I want to be a writer, a best-selling writer, to be exact.
Currently, I write six out of seven days a week. For five of those days, I write for an hour before I go to work. For two of those five days, I write for an extra half an hour after work, usually in the late afternoon or the early evening. And during my sixth writing session, I write for two hours, usually late in the morning.
Does this level of dedication mean that I will get what I want?
I’ve read dozens of books on writing and will read many more in the future. I’ve completed many a writing activity, and have taken part in writing courses. I’ve spent hours reading and watching videos on the process of both self-publishing and traditional publishing.
Does that mean I’m on my way to becoming a star?
I’ve spent over five years working on my craft. I’ve never managed to complete a novel, but after every failure, I’ve learned something from the experience and, as a result, my writing chops have improved. I will keep on learning. The writing craft is a lifetime of learning, didn’t you know?
Does that mean I’m on the way to becoming the next JK Rowling?
I’ve written when I haven’t wanted to write. I’ve written when I was feeling angry and afraid, sad and frustrated. I’ve written through migraines and period pains, through writer’s block and writer’s cramp. Well, maybe not cramp, but my hand did hurt after writing. Did I mention that I have Kerataconus? An eye disorder that has eaten away at my eye sight so much so that I have to rely on contact lenses for my vision.
Does it mean that I now deserve success? I’ve proved that I am more than just an amateur. I write when I don’t want to write. Surely, that means I deserve to catch a break, right?
Er. nope. I could write for years upon years, and go from trying experience to trying experience without ever getting a sniff of success. That’s Life.
Can you be whatever you want to be?
You can certainly try your damnedest. But you aren’t owed anything in life.
Success is a possibility. But so is mediocrity.