Fight Song

My life is undergoing a transition right now. I was laid off from my job last week (well, I was laid off two months ago, but they "let" me stick around for two months so I could knowledge dump onto those who would be paid to do my job). The situation has forced to me take a number of things in my life a little more seriously. I realized early on in this process that I had become very secure in my working life. Besides a handful of writing projects (Alcova, my novel), my writing had really fallen by the wayside. If I was lucky, I'd write a few pages a week. That usually didn't happen. Writing outbursts were few and far between, and resulted in the 40 or so pages that currently constitute my novel. I was content to make my money as an editor, to spend that money on video games and nice dinners, and let that be that. My hobbies filled up the rest of my time (music and sports, duh!). Writing was just barely a concern. An afterthought. I see now that I was well on my way to becoming yet more like my father. He is very comfortable in his lifestyle. He works a job that doesn't seem to really fulfill him, and his hobbies fill up the rest of his time (music and sports -- duh). My biggest fear in life is to wind up exactly like my dad. It's no knock on him -- I think he's relatively happy. He's more of a loner than I am. But it's not for me. I want to be surrounded by friends. And I want to write. I fervently believe that the only thing I'm really good for is writing. Writing is what I am meant for. So here I am. No job. Lot of savings, unemployment coming in for six months. And a burning desire to subduct all other interests to my writing fire. My plan crystallized a couple weeks ago. I want to be a professional writer, but as I have no contacts in the writing world, I'm going to have to do this myself, I'm going to have to become a writer through sheer force of will. As long as I am unemployed, and even when I become employed, I'm going to churn out short story after short story. I'm going to send planeloads of stories to fiction magazines and journals. I will get stories published. I must. When I get my first story published, I will not celebrate. I will send more stories out. I will build up as big a published portfolio as I can, I will get my name out there and keep it out there. I will make contacts with publishers and printers. Through all this, the goal is to find an agent. An agent or a publisher willing to publish my first novel. And then... well then we have to hope the marketplace is interested in my novels. I've finished -- for the most part -- my first short story. I'll send it out hopefully by the end of this week or the beginning of next week to a few magazines. I want to start writing my next story though. Something sci-fi oriented; a lot of the "fast turnaround" outlets are sci-fi or fantasy oriented. So with that second story, I should be able to send it out repeatedly throughout the week after it's done being written. I've been trying to start this second story for a couple of days now. I've been going through various ideas in my head. But really -- considering how many stories I want to write -- the idea doesn't matter too much. I'll get to them all in due time. I just need to start putting pen to paper. This entry is less introspective than usual. I'm using it more as a personal declaration, a manifesto of what I hope to accomplish in 2009. I've been given the gift of time, time to write, and I don't want to squander it. I feel very deeply that this is an important moment in my writing career, an opportunity to rise to the occasion. I must rise to it, I must seize this moment. If I don't, I'll regret it for the rest of my life. I must rise to the occasion -- I will rise to the occasion.