I didn’t get much done on that long car ride, but the trip itself threw me out of my comfort zone and made me start to think.
And to doubt.
I have no idea if my writing is all that good. Or if it is necessary. Or even important. And it takes a lot of time. A lot of time I could spend on other things.
I could spend that time exercising (which I have struggled with since breaking my ankle at Thanksgiving), or reading, or playing video games with DH, or doing the hundred things on my “To Do” list.
I want to say writing makes me happy, but I’m not sure it does. It’s a lot of alone time with a keyboard that few understand with the only reward some words on a screen. Is that enough to keep writing!
All the reasons I stopped writing before my children were born are resurfacing, and they are even more convincing now than they were before.
Need more time to think and really assess what I want out of my writing. I already know I will never be able to quit my day job. So what do I want?
The answer to that will determine the future of my writing.