I have no idea where this is going to end. In my pipe dreams, I write this fantastically successful novel, so successful that I can tell my day job to go jump in the river, and stay home to write full time. Realistically, I know that is not likely to occur. I'm sure that for every author who actually manages to get a book published, there are three or four who couldn't sell ice in the desert. And of the handful who manage to get one book published, the number of folks who go on to successful multiple published works is even smaller.
But I've come to the conclusion that publication, while nice, doesn't matter. At least, it's not my primary goal. I have a creative outlet again. I have found over the last week that the thought of"Hey, I've got a great idea for the story - I'm going to go home and write it out," makes the day a little more tolerable. I can go through my mundane corporate day looking forward to something. My work from 8:30 to 5:00 pays the bills. My work from 7:00 to 9:00 (or so) feeds my soul.
So things are good. I hope the momentum continues. I think it will. And if you're a friend looking for a copy to read, let me know. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
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