Hell yeah, I'm a writer. I tell myself that every day. The problem is, I can't seem to get anyone to buy my wares. Outside of my day job, that is.
And that's at the heart of the matter. A two-hour commute from the island to the city, then eight and a half hours editing instructional materials for a very wonderful and upstanding organization, then two and a half hours home again, then getting dinner on the table, dishes washed, kitties fed, etc. And a freelance project on the side, and an occasional teaching gig. And the "aging parent problem" too. So where does the writing get done? Not on the commute--that's where the freelance project project gets worked on.
So why am I telling you this, all the nonexistent readers of this blog? Because at the Pacific Northwest Writers Association in July, an agent advised us to establish a platform for putting our work out there...a blog, in other words. To write about the travails of being as aspiring writer and my encounters with the natural, the praeternatural, and the supernatural... to say nothing of the crazy humans of this planet.