Huh?
For the creative, unemployed writer, motive doesn’t really enter the picture. Deadlines, money, nothing to spur one on except pure desire and inspiration, or need to speak out.
Well they’re all with me now (although deadlines and income would make it even better and me, more dedicated), so I’m primed and ready for the next semester which starts in about a week. There’s no question that my own life’s narrative line is heading towards a project of writing story, in whatever form I eventually realize as my megaphone. Study and learning will never stop; they don’t end in a cul-de-sac of publication. Word by word improves the process and leaves footprints of progress that indicate depth and experience. But there’s always a trail up ahead, and where it travels into dense undergrowth, learning becomes a machete.
Love it. Love it. Love it.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology