When I first started writing almost 10 years ago, I was quickly consumed by the need to write All. The. Time. It was an addiction, this putting words to page, creating characters and worlds and living in my own fully-interactive fantasy. I mean, really? How is this even legit work?
Of course, my idea of what’s work and what’s play has evolved much in the last decade, along with my understanding of the innate human need to create.
I was determined to make a living at this gig solely because I *needed* to do it full-time. Like… there was going to be a problem if I couldn’t. So I worked hard at that, and in the beginning, the marketing and the business was as fascinating and amazing to me as the writing. I’d always wanted to run my own business, and here I was, an entrepreneur!
Now, I’m like “really? marketing again?” but that’s okay. I’ll feed the beast so I can keep my addiction going the other 28 days of the month.
I know the world is enamored of money, and money is fine–I’m capitalist enough to love a free market, especially one I get to operate in–but money has never been STATUS for me (as it seems to be for a lot of people). Then again, I’ve never been into status markers as indicators of much of anything other than you have money. For me, money has always been primarily about FREEDOM. Having sufficient amounts of the stuff allows me the freedom to sip chai tea in my PJs and write stories about sexy dragon shifters or tormented debt collectors or humans made immortal by the radical heightening of their intelligence.
A decade of doing THAT has immeasurably enriched my life in ways that make a mockery of my bank account.
So, yes, I’ll market today… so I can win back my freedom next Monday. And so I can do that other thing that feeds my soul–seduce more readers into that fully-interactive fantasy world with me.
me writing about marketing instead of actually marketing