That illusive, hard to describe, and even harder concept. Some have it in spades while others struggle with it on a daily basis. Me? I fall somewhere in there.
I decided to write seriously (as in try to make a living of it) not even a year ago. Before that I wrote a lot, but it was for me: poems, short stories, nothing fancy. Then I wondered into the land of NaNoWriMo. If you don’t know what that is, Goggle it, learn about it, then DO IT! It changed my life.
So here I am, trying to find a balance between editing my 2015 NaNo novel, writing a new YA novel, gearing up for NaNo 2016, and doing a fair bit of freelance work. I have sold two articles so far … this is a big deal to me because I never thought anyone would want to pay for something that falls out of my brain. Oh! And I am starting a story series on another site but more on that in a later blog.
So what’s the point? Motivation comes and goes. Why? I’m not really sure yet. But I k ow it has something to do with what goes on inside my head. Not that I would wish any of you to visit there. I’m sure you all have your own demons and don’t want to play with mine too. Which brings me to the title of this piece.
In the early days, when I decided that I wanted to take my writing to the “next level” (whatever that means), I thought about what I wanted. Did I want to be a full time writer? A freelancer that supplemented income with paying jobs? Or was I just writing to shut my bitch of a muse up. How I came to all three of these is still a mystery and eventually I will have to let one of them go. But for now I’m having way too much fun. I thought about what motivates me. What I want to become. How I was going to get there. And I did all of this while working a full-time job. Yes, I still have that job but hope one day to put that behind me and focus 100% on my writing. I’ll get there.
While thinking on these things, I remember it raining heavily at work. And being from the poor class (most if not all of us are) my shoes were getting worn out and the soles had a few holes in them. One can deduce then that on a rainy day my feet would get a bit wet. A feeling I bet is not liked by many. And I hated it.
This was my motivation, and still is. Every time I begin to feel that things are getting out of hand, that life is pulling me under, that my writing isn’t good enough, or that I am doomed to not get to where I want in my writing life; I remember one simple phrase: wet shoes.
I don’t want to have wet shoes when I work. I am tired of being an okay writer. I want more! And if it kills me I am going to be more! I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror and know that I have done everything I can possibly do to make myself a better author. Those wet shoes are a reminder of where I was/am and where I want to be.
Funny how a thing so small … so inconsequential … can be such a motivating force.
So what about you? What is your motivating force?