I think I am just feeling blue as it is the end of my first week back at work following a little holiday to Gran Canaria Winter Pride (that's a whole other blog I could get into but not suitable for general reading, I fear!). Still, I am wondering if my writing will ever allow me to escape the rat race I find myself in.
Don't get me wrong. I don't have a bad job, I get paid well, and I have a good life. Husband, holidays, obviously, meals out, nice house etc... etc... so certainly no sympathy is required, but all the same, my job is not a vocation. I do not wake up every morning thrilled at the prospect of what the day may hold in store. On the contrary, there is an inevitability to the dramas each day will bring when you work in IT!
But I do have a passion, a flame sparked in my youth and rekindled just a few years ago. Writing! I want to be a writer. Well, I guess I am a writer. I have two books available currently, Echoes of a Boy and If I Had Died Last Summer. You may have seen me bleating on about them on social media.
It has been an incredible journey, and the third book is well underway, but how on earth do I make it my job? How do I monetise it? How do I make it my vocation in life? I dream of waking up at a reasonable time rather than the 6 am alarm. Going for a little swim and then sitting down for a few hours of writing before pottering around to the high street for a coffee. The most stressful event in my life would be the deadline for submitting my next draft.
What a dream! Ideas on a postcard, please. Until then, I am signing off for the weekend and come Monday, I will be back in the rat race. Maybe I will see you in a traffic jam on the M40 sometime.