I ask myself this all the time when I spend hours writing my novel.
After you’ve written half a dozen or so, you lose count.
And after you lose count you are left wondering was it worth it since it is doing absolutely nothing for you but taking up memory on your computer.
And as I write my new novel this question is perpetually in my mind.
For I think this one is going nowhere as well.
I hate going to bookstores and seeing all the books that got published that shouldn’t have been published just because they are written by someone famous or some “expert” in their field. It makes me angry because that is part of the reason I can’t get mine published.
Yet, here I sit. Driven by something deep inside of me that won’t allow me to quit. Even when none of it is fun or exciting or even remotely interesting.
It will be worth it–IF–and that’s a big IF–I ever get published.
But it’s a dream I have and unfortunately dreams die hard.
Like teaching that I am still holding on to by a thread.
Owning a home with a barb-wired fence.
Watching my kids grow to adults.
Training my hound to be a therapy dog.
Finishing reading a novel I first picked up two years ago but keep putting down in order to write.
But the fact that dreams do come true motivates me as well. Keeps me going at all hours of the night. For who among us hasn’t had some part of a dream at least come true?
And that, my friends, is what life is all about.