Dunno... I guess before it didn't occur to me that I couldn't do it - write and publish a novel. Now it occurs to me that I might not be able to. That maybe I'm one of those people who constantly dreams about it and thinks about it but never gets there...As an explanation (and one that garners nor expects any sympathy) I must inform you that I've never not succeeded where I've put my mind to it. I got into my first choice college early admission (and I didn't even have a back-up in mind...). I also got into my #1 choice for law school - actually have never received a rejection from a school unless you count Georgia Tech's Masters in Information and Design Technology (yeah, what was I thinking??) I even got into med school with a program that didn't require MCATS or Organic Chemistry. I've never really had a hard time finding a job, although finding the man of my dreams did take QUITE a while (he was worth the wait!).
So it has never really occured to me until recently that I might not be able to make a living - a good living - being a published author. But then I remember the day I looked at my mother's life not as a child, but as a friend. She's been divorced twice, and is now on her third husband (an absolutely wonderful and loving man that we are all lucky to have in our lives). I'm sure this isn't the life she expected and dreamed about as a child.
What right do I have to expect that my dreams will come true? That I'm any different from the hundreds and thousands of other writers out there who are diligently writing, polishing, editing, sumbitting and getting rejected? Or even selling but not enough to quit their day jobs, to not constantly worry about money?
That's the question I wrote to The Boy last week. In the next post you'll read his response. It's why I'm not worrying quite as much, though I still get the odd "will this work?" pangs.