This is a continuation of the previous post, “The ‘we’ of this website,” so if you’re particular about those things, you might want to read that one first.
That post was supposed to be the introduction to this; the theme here was what I was getting to then, but I didn’t get there fast enough.
What I was getting to was this: The possibility of failing is fearful, but thoughts of success aren’t totally comforting either. Let me preface this: I’ve always had faith that I was going to become a successful writer. That begs the question of what I consider a successful writer? Just what will be the point when I deem myself successful? The answer to that is precisely this: I will consider myself a successful writer when I no longer have to pull shifts tending bar.
That’s the goal. Success for me will be when I only have to work 40 hours a week. I talk about the schedule I’m working right now, and people think I’m a workaholic. That couldn’t be further from the truth; in fact, the reason I’m putting in the work now is so that I won’t have to be a workaholic. Success for me is going to be able to spend my days pretty much like I do now, work for eight hours or so, and then be done with it when Becky and the boys get home from school. That is all I want.
God may give me more than that–I think He will, but that’s how we are–and he may give me less; whatever he gives me, however, I have faith that He’ll give me exactly what I need, and I’ll work with it.
You parents know what I’m talking about; you just do what comes next and deal with what you’re given. There’s no time to sit around and bemoan how poorly we’ve been treated, or my what a crappy draw we got; those kids aren’t going to raise themselves and whatever God–or fate or whatever grand construct you might believe in–has given us, we just have to roll with it.
And I’ll have to keep that in mind should this website really catch on. Like I said, I’ve always had faith that I would become a successful writer, but now that I can see that might be happening in the not so distant future, it does give me a bit of a fearful pause. I know what it’s like to work at something a long time, only to realize it was something more than I had anticipated when I finally got it. I chased Stephen King for two decades, and when I finally caught up with him, when I had finally read all of the 55 or so novels he had written, the moment of satisfaction was fleeting, but the realization that there wasn’t a Stephen King book for me to read lasted for four months, until the next one came out. Heck, I worked for five and a half years on a Bachelor’s Degree while working full time, and I spun so out of control once I got it that it only took me four months to drive into the side of a moving cop car drunk. I’ve seen how what I hope for can turn out to be something altogether different.
So, we’re heading into something, no matter how it turns out, that we’ve never experienced before. I guess that’s where this slight feeling of fear lies, in the unknown and the wonder of how it’s going to be different than what I’ve anticipated. I’m kind of anxious for it all, and I’ll be able to dear with those small wells of fear, and it helps so much that I know you’re with me.
Be well, my lovelies. Great blessings await you today, I just know it.
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