I was visiting Christine Fonseca's blog today. I became so enamored of my comment to her post (actually a post of a post) that I decided to re-post here.
Hmmmm….I can relate to Benoit. I think that has been me for much of my life. Or maybe I just wanted my journey to go the scenic route? VERY scenic? I turned 44 today and never became the if-not-famous-then-at-least-self-supporting actor I wanted to be. I never did even get so much as a bachelor’s degree in anything. The most writing I ever do is during NaNoWriMo. It has taken me 10 years of doing that to finally realize that my writing does not completely suck–not that I consciously thought that, or why would I bother writing at all? But why on earth would I think it was good enough for publication? And why on earth did I have to decide to choose preferred professions that are so difficult to earn a living solely on that profession alone? So I dropped the acting aspirations in favor of motherhood, and put the writing in a semi-holding pattern….and now that I am in my mid-forties, am I too old to think I could ever be a published fiction writer–I mean other than on lulu or create-space or a blog….
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