Two years ago I went on a writing vacation to the coast.
My idea was to write an analog story about my childhood and set it in a fantasy setting. I called it The Reluctant Wizard. What this trip did was unlock my creative door. I'd been struggling for a year with Faerylander (at that time called, Almost Human.)
Somehow, tapping into my childhood emotions got me going again.
Then I had an idea of writing a cyberpunk version of the Hobbit, which I called Freedy Filkins, and which is now called Cyber Flash. It was fun to write. I didn't worry about whether it might sell or not.
Anyway, from that point on, I haven't stopped writing. Anything that came to me, I wrote. A vampire story? Haven't vampires been overplayed? Maybe, but its knocking at the door so, well, Okay.
Sequels to my earlier unpublished books? That seems dubious, but Okay.
Stories about a wild pig apocalypse? Uh, Okay.
Donner Party Werewolves? I like it, Okay.
Bigfoot and the California Gold Rush? I like it, Okay.
Even though I'm struggling with Faerylander, write two more sequels? Okay.
And so on.
I worked out a work strategy, a pace I could maintain, and cleared the decks to do nothing but writing.
I gave myself 5 years to concentrate on writing, and I'm now at the 2 year mark. (I don't count the struggle of the first year where I was just relearning how to write.)
I'm going to try to moderate a little. Fit in some more gardening and trips and more work at the bookstores and movies and books and so on.
But I think I can still keep up a steady writing schedule.
I'm not worried about how well they sell, only about how well I write them. I've worked out the math, and it's ridiculously low odds. ("Never tell me the odds!)
But I don't care. It turns out I like writing, telling stories, and crafting them the best I can, so I'm going to just keep doing that.
7 hours ago