Yeah, so day 6 didn’t quite happen, so I wrote 4,000 words on day 7.
One of the problems with being a writer who is not employed writing is that most of ones time is taken up doing everything but writing. Perhaps even worse, too many people think that writing is something that happens by some sort of osmotic magic, as if the words leach out of ones skull and onto a page, fully formed like Athena leaping from Zues’ skull.
Of course, making such a statement immediately puts many of a writer’s family and friends on edge as they believe such an accusation is leveled at them. Sometimes it is, but not in some sort of insulting way. Frankly, writers are really bad about explaining their craft and defending their time against intrusion.
So what remains is that the writers that succeed in their craft are the ones that persevere in spite of the challenges of a world often set against their success. As Harlan Ellison said in “Dreams with Sharp Teeth”:
“Most writers I know run that idiotic number about “Oh, I like to have written but I don’t like to write. It’s hard work.”… Of course it’s hard work. If it weren’t hard work, everybody would be doing it. And the better you do it, the harder the work is… Art is supposed to be hard.”
To which I add: If it isn’t hard, you’re not doing it right.
So, despite the challenges, I suck it up and move on because I want to see my work in print in ways I, a writer, cannot adequately express in words. 14,000 words and counting!