I’ve been asked several times if I’ve ever considered writing a full-length novel. As a matter of fact, I’ve been asked so often that I’m beginning to feel like a failure every time I complete a short story.
It’s not like I begin every project thinking, today I’m going to write a short story. I’ve found that between work, family and other obligations I can’t seem to find enough hours in the day to sit down and write on a consistent basis. I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I should set aside a certain amount of time each day to write and the heck with everything else. That’s so much easier said than done, my friend.
The problem is (although I hate to admit it) I’m no longer a spring chicken. Writing late into the night on weekdays and weekends would have been no problem twenty years ago when I was a young stud, but if I tried that today, I probably wouldn’t make it to work in the morning.
Writing a novel takes time, energy and did I mention, time? I’d love to be able to sit down every day and just write, that would be heaven, but honestly I can’t afford to do that.
I’ve always thought that once I retired I’d have the time to write (where have you heard that before), but the way the economy’s been in the last sixteen years, retirement keeps getting pushed further and further away.
So I’m stuck with three choices. I either set aside two or three years of my life to write a novel using what limited time I have or I continue to write short stories and novellas until I can afford to retire. Option three is my favorite, I hit the power ball numbers and everything else takes care of itself. Ha. Ha.
The reality of the situation is that I’m probably going to continue writing short stories and novellas, while secretly hoping to hit the lotto. The first choice although tempting, would probably put me in the poor house and make my wife and cat miserable.
All kidding aside, thank you for following my blog, buying my books and reading my slew of (hopefully entertaining) short stories.