I'm lucky.
Usually I'd tell you the opposite. A black cloud has followed me most of my life. I am not lucky because I'm wealthy, or wise, or had an easy life. Literally none of those are true. Just take a look at my back account, poor life choices, and emotional scars. No, nein, nope. I've been extremely unlucky when it comes to those things. What I'm talking about is writing, my passion, my dream, that little hope inside that's taken up inside my chest.
I seem to almost be there. I've got several agents looking over my stuff, seemingly pretty interested in it. Sure, this is the first step before many more. I have more editing to do, they need to sell it to editors, there's contract negotiations, and of course subsequent books before I can finally make this a career.
But dammit, dammit, I've read about excellent writers who took ten, twenty years to achieve the same I have. Me, I'm on year two, and I'm at this stage. It's not talent, intelligence, or anything else that's gotten me here. It's just luck.
And for once, I'm happy to have it.
No comments:
Post a Comment