I learned something about myself over the last couple of years.
I don’t do hobbies. If it’s a hobby, it’s something that can be easily cast aside in favor of doing other things.
Like dishes, laundry, dog baths, grocery shopping, bills, cooking dinner, running kids, laundry, dishes, laundry, dishes…you get the point.
Or binge-watching Netflix.
(Not that I do that or anything.)
Yes. Two years after independently publishing my first book, I am no closer to finishing the second. Don’t get me wrong. I have been writing. On occasion. A few minutes before falling asleep. When I’m not so tired I can’t keep my eyes open.
Considering the number of words I can put on a computer screen on any given day, it’s ridiculous really that I have four partially finished books and the number of words I write on those nights may total two paragraphs.
Seriously, I’ve been writing on it for months and have 10 pages.
Why is that?
Because it was a hobby and I don’t do hobbies it appears.
Everything happens for a reason. At least that’s what I’ve been told and though I don’t know if I completely buy that line of thought, my life has led me to this point.
So here I am, full on pimping out my writing skills as a business.
If you need writing services, let me know!
(Unless you are in school. No. I’m not writing your paper for you. Those red marks build character.)
Today is a writing day. Let’s see what kind of word count I can get now.