During my time as a stay-at-home writer, I’ve learned an important and difficult lesson;
Writing is really hard!
Sure, everyone tells me writing is hard – goodness knows enough writers complain about their woes – but to be honest, I never believed them. To me, writing always seemed like the easiest job in the world. You do what you want, when you want. There’s no pointless busy work. It’s never boring. You answer to no one.
Yet despite all the benefits, there are challenges. Sometimes the words just won’t come. Rough drafts are humiliating. Research is laborious. It’s completely thankless. Getting critiqued is heartbreaking. Revising is like taking off a band aid. Temptation to procrastinate is rife. Guilt and doubt is consistent. You never know what you do will be useful and what will end up being a waste of time.
Why am I just now figuring out that writing is a hard job? Because up until now, it’s always been a hobby that I thought was a job. Boy, was I naïve.
I feel like an idiot complaining about my dream job, especially since so many people long for it. When I don’t complain, however, I do myself a disservice. In my head writing is supposed to be easy; when it’s not, I feel like something’s wrong. I pull away. If we only write when the words come easily, pretty soon they won't come at all.
I need to face my work head on and say, “Writing is hard and I still love it.”