Alright ya little punks! I see you giving me the side-eye because I haven't blogged for almost a month. I have my reasons, I just can't tell you what they are because I haven't made them up yet.
Here's the deal. I planned to do nothing but eat pizza and write my book this summer, but I got a job offer and took it. How else would I pay for an editor? Because of the new job, my writing time has suffered severely and is in critical condition. (Doctor said it might not make it.)
I'm bringing this up because today's post is about sacrifice. As a writer, reading that word has probably made one or two memories pop up in your mind. We writers are constantly sacrificing things to make sure our work gets done. Whether it's time, people, length of Buffy marathons; we are always cutting back so our writing life doesn't suffer.
I can't even count on both hands the number of times I've had to skip parties and quality family time because of writing deadlines. (It's not as gloomy as I'm making it sound. Sorry.) To me, the most successful writers are the ones who know how tough it is but do it anyway, because they just love it so damn much. That's why whenever someone says to me, "this process is too long" or "writing is so hard," I say "shut up and deal with it or do something else."
Writing a novel is a painful process. It's kind of like having a child. You carry it around for a while, while it grows. Several months later, you let it loose on the world and eventually people ask you when the next one's coming (that's if it's a cute novel). If you love writing, then it doesn't matter how many things in life you have to sacrifice. If you love it enough, then you're a slave to your craft and you can't see your life any other way.
Write your little hearts out, you beautiful weirdos.