It didn’t take me long after returning home to figure out that the world was still in bad shape. I’m trying to find a job in a state with one of the highest unemployment rates in the country. I’m relocating to a new city solely to be settled for grad school next year – but I still haven’t started my application because I’m looking for aforementioned jobs and housing. It’s been a little overwhelming, but after a brainstorming session at Starbucks, I came home and found another ten apartments to investigate and applied for two more jobs. It was electrifying, and at the end of it I felt accomplished, a familiar sensation I hadn’t felt since…
…since the last time I really worked on my book.
I don’t plan to get rich from writing. If my book gets published at all, I don’t expect to become a millionaire because of it. But I know there are still opportunities out there to actually earn money for the stuff I write – if I can just knuckle down and produce something. I have a handful of ideas for travel articles, but I need to find places that will publish them. Heck, there are thousands of poetry and fiction contests out there to enter.
But first I need to write them. And now I believe those sayings about practicing writing, because after not working on my book for four months, it’s very hard to get back into it.