I don’t think there’s really any point to this post, so skip over if you like.
I was raised that if you wanted something, you worked to earn it.
The one time I faltered from that, at about age seven over a package of bubblegum, I was not only made to publicly humiliate myself, but got my ass busted for stealing, grounded and given extra chores so I’d have plenty of time to contemplate the sin that earned all of that.
It was a lesson I took to heart, and I seriously doubt that I’m the Lone Stranger in learning it.
Growing up, one of the most excruciating punishments for wrong doing my parents devised for me was to ground me from reading for enjoyment.
I was one of Them: a four-eyed little bookworm who preferred my nose buried in a book, imagination being sparked by what I read, to socializing or playing.
I’m still that four-eyed bookworm, just older and taller now. I have developed the ability to socialize, make friends and not stay stuck in my imagination all the time.
But I still believe that if you want something, you work to earn it.
My ass will sting in reminder if I remotely contemplate doing otherwise. As a result, I go without a lot of things I’d love to have.
There’s something I want, and I’m working long, hard hours to earn it.
I want people.
Not just any people, but readers.
You see, I finally began writing to fulfill a dream I had as a child. It’s only been a few years since I grew serious about pursuing it.
I want to entertain people the way I was and am entertained by other authors. I want to create characters you’ll fall in love or hate with. To make you laugh, cry or say ‘oh no, she didn’t!’ and hurry to turn the page to see what happens next.
Those of you who will read my stories and react like that are out there. I’ve already found a few of you!
But doing this, I also have to consider how the time I spend at it affects the rest of my life and the people who share it. I’ve discovered that I personally need to justify it, so I place a value I think is reasonable on some of my stories and try to sell them.
Today, my S/O asked me why I keep writing if I’m just going to get worked up over things like book piracy, distributors taking enormous cuts of my earnings and such.
“Because I love to write and need to.”
He said, “So earning from it isn’t the important thing or a goal.”
“Yes, earning is a goal and important to me.”
See, while I may write because I love it and need to empty my imagination out on a regular basis to keep from being interred in Happy Acres Sanitarium, I share what I write in order to entertain and earn.
I have a box full of stories no one will ever read. I wrote them solely for my own enjoyment, and don’t need to share them to have that enjoyment.
The stories I put out for public consumption are written with entertaining more than myself in mind.
They’re fun, but they’re also work. A lot more of my time and effort goes into them. And it’s not unreasonable to expect to earn something when you work, right?
You have the choice to buy or pass by.
What I’m supplying may not be what you’re demanding.
That’s life.
I’ll keep working to earn those readers I want.
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