It’s odd to feel this way when I love my job as much as I do. I know exactly how fortunate I am to be able to earn what mostly constitutes a living while sitting at home in my jammies. I’m aware that I’m very blessed not having to go out each morning and drive through rush-hour traffic to get to a sterile office somewhere. Most people would envy me and no doubt get very snarky when I whine. I wouldn’t blame them, but even the best job in the world can get tiresome.
Most of all, right now, I want to write and when I’m on a tight deadline, that’s hard to do. I edit all day, taking one or two quick breaks for lunch and maybe a fast jaunt along the court and up the bay front road. I have supper with Husband and then come back to my lake office in the bedroom to keep working. By the time my eyes are so bleary I can no longer see, it’s too late to write. I go to bed, get a few hours’ sleep, and start all over again.
I think the answer to that is probably, no. The highly successful, very well-paid novelist is a rare bird. Most of the published romance novelists I know have day jobs, so I know that I’m not alone. But sometimes, it depresses me when I have to set my writing aside to earn a living. Poor Nan! It’s a sad, sad tale, isn’t it?
Well, I’m on my last editing gig and in a couple of weeks, I’m off for a writing vacation with one of my very favorite people. I can write again soon. In the meantime, I’m making notes as I think about how I want my newest story to progress, plus, I’m taking time out to whine right now! All in all, I’m very lucky . . . and I do know it.