Two year writing anniversary.

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Sequels to my earlier unpublished books?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.