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Story of my life. Get it?
Most writers dream of being ‘found’ and published. I don’t. Shall I tell you why?
That’s right. It would mean having to sit down and actually write, to a deadline, on topic. Something that I struggle immensely with.
If I was a published author I would have an editor, of which I would never remember the name. I would have a publishing house, that I probably wouldn’t like the name of, and I would have a ‘boss’ which I don’t like the sound of because I’m not very good at taking orders, who would end up with a very unfunny (to him/her) nickname.
The money side of being a published author sounds very attractive. But do you realize how many copies you need to sell to make money enough to pay your mortgage? Well, I don’t even know that answer, but it’s somewhere in the millions anyway. That’s millions of copies of one book, every year. The chances are if I ever do get published that I’d earn maybe a few hundred quid, yes. You read that correct.
Contrary to popular belief, writers do not make a ton of cash on a regular basis and a large portion of us have day jobs that suck, bills to pay and hungry little life suckers… I mean children, to feed.
My writing style is called Pantsing. Yes, it sounds funny, doesn’t it? Have you heard of the term before?
It means that I write by the seat of my pants. If an idea strikes me I have to sit down to write the flow of words that stream out of my head as I think them, until the flow is done. It can happen at any moment, day or night, but usually when I have something to do or when I’m about to go out.
I can write like that when my children are at home, or if I’m in a busy cafe. I block out the world when I’m in the Pantsing Zone. It can come across like I’m being rude, but honestly, if you can see me typing then you can assume that I’m in the zone and therefore not likely to answer you. It’s just common sense.
Being a Pantser almost guarantees that I wouldn’t be able to work with a publishing house. Simply because I can only write to any reasonable degree when the planets are aligned, or, well, when the Pantsing takes over. I can’t force myself to write. If I did then it would not be worth reading.