I used to think that I would be rich and famous one day. I still hold out hope of being rich.
My teenage dream was to tell stories. First it was about making movies, then writing screenplays. Through college it became about being a famous novelist. The years after college are a Schrodinger's Box of possibilities - I could be a famous novelist, or I could not. I would have to find out.
Now, more than a decade later, I have a little bit more insight on what's inside that Box. Four times I have gone through rounds of querying agents and publishers. No round has gone well. But these experiences have forced me to think about why I write.
I am fortunate enough that I have a day job that I enjoy and that provides for my family. While profiting off of these years of writing would be nice, it is not necessary for my family's survival. I have come to think about writing like playing the guitar or golf: it's a discipline that takes time, that brings me joy and that maybe results in a product other people are interested in. Not strangers but family and friends, in the same way that they would come to a coffee shop concert of a co-worker. And just like golf, this practice definitely costs me more money than I earn from it.
Part of the dream I had (and still have - Kurt Vonnegut was 49 when he published his first novel) is seeing my novel on a shelf. Technology has come a long way in the last decade. Canva can design some amazing book covers. Amazon can print a book on-demand and still ship to your house in under two days. Self-published or not, the dream of having my novel on a shelf has been realized.
I used to think that I wrote stories for an eighteen-year-old version of myself. Now with three boys, I have realized that I'm writing for their future enjoyment (this stuff is PG-13, they need a few more years). That's an audience unique to me but it's audience enough to keep writing.
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