Here I am, four months until I get to celebrate a full decade since I self-published my first novel.
I love writing stories.
It’s what I have always loved to do. And I love it more than anything else I’ve had the pleasure of doing over the years.
Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing glamorous about having a passion.
I often say passion means to suffer. It does. It truly does. The universe doesn’t suddenly make sense because you know what is the one thing you love doing more than anything else in the world.
In fact, most times it feels like an obstacle.
I love to write, yet I’ve also come up with a rather impressive reasons why I shouldn’t:
- I am primarily a personal development blogger
- It takes a lot of time to write something, then try to sell it
- The niche is overcrowded
- There aren’t that many people interested in reading fiction
And on and on.
The funny thing is, you only need one reason why something won’t work.
If you start writing down an entire list of reasons, most probably it means that you, somehow, wish it would actually work.
Somehow, deep down, you know that the obstacle is really the way to go.
There’s nothing else to do.
It is the things we smear with realism that usually make us dream in ways that stop us from falling asleep.
That’s the way of the world.
I am a writer. I write stories. It is what I love to do, and I can’t find much joy doing anything else if I can’t write.
And that’s what I am going to do.
I am going to write.
And I’d love it if you could join me on this journey.
I’d love to share my stories with you.