As I have considered career options (a seemingly endless consideration for a man who took jobs rather than pursuing a career), my wife and I wondered if getting paid to write was a good idea---when a beloved hobby is converted to work, will it become as tedious as the other tasks I have completed under the auspices of employment? Of course, I pondered that in the same way that 20th century Red Sox fans contemplated a World Series title: 86 years of losing makes heartbreak a part of one's soul---would being a winner cause inexplicable identity confusion? The favorite response to that question came from one hardened Sox fan who said, "Maybe so. But I'd sure like to test the theory."
So I'm testing the writing theory, and like the people of Boston, I think I'll make the transition just fine. With the work and the commute, I have much less time for blogs like this (penned during my lunch hour), but I'm going to be making the transition with a permanent smile on my face. I'm sure there are headaches on the horizon, but getting paid to spend the day being creative? That's as close to an ideal career as I can imagine: In the morning I go to the office, but it hardly feels like going to "work".
When my daughter Sage was born, I worried that I would have no time to write, but the reality didn't play out that way: Yes, I had less time, but writing time became a precious commodity, and I found myself using it more diligently---thus, my productivity actually improved. I'm hoping for a similar result with this change, though as my posting frequency shows, I'm still adjusting. (It seems ironic that my writing pace has been slowed because I spend so much more time writing now, but I like that irony.)
So life is good. I certainly wouldn't say I've won yet, but my personal Red Sox are finally in the series, and I'm swinging for the fences. (And hopefully, my personal Bill Buckner stays on the bench.)
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