I read a post the other day on Jack Flacco's blog called, Me? A Published Author? I've actually read a lot of posts like this in the relatively short time I've been writing. I'd like to believe that most writers write because they feel the need to do it. It's like great musicians and composers; something inside them is inspired to create, and they follow that instinct. Whether their motivation is to change lives, share a story, make a difference (for good or ill) or just because they enjoy it, they MUST create.
In the months before I started writing, I had been thinking and praying about our lifestyle and finances a great deal. I'd been asking and hoping for some way to help our lives become more stable. It wasn't long before the idea for a story came into my mind, and I began the long process.
At the time, I knew very little about the publishing industry, but it wasn't hard to learn. I did as much research as I could, and I wrote. I found friends both in person and in the online writing community and learned a great deal from them. I started to wonder if maybe my writing was the thing that would bring us stability in our finances.
Around this time, my husband was hired at a new job that gave us a more predictable and higher income. We had what I'd been praying for.
But, I continued writing. The draw to do so was still there. Is still there.
So why do I write? Why would I like to be published? Because perhaps it would mean a better life for my family. A home we can comfortably grow into over the years, and more freedom to create memories with my husband and for my children.
My family is the most important thing in the world to me; their safety and comfort weigh heavily on my mind all the time. This has been especially so in the past couple of years, when we've had weeks of little food, and having to ask our family or our church for financial support. So, I don't mean having the largest house, or the nicest car, or even the best new technology. I only hope that someday - through my writing or not - we will be able to live in a safe neighborhood, in a home fit for us, and the ability to do fun things and learn and grow in the process.
Is this selfish of me? I write because I want to, but with the eventual *possible* goal of comfort for my family as well.
Why do you want to be published?
P.P.S. Today's my little brother-in-law's 17th birthday! Happy birthday Tater!
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