In the months since I started editing, I’ve written for others much more than myself. Every time I come home from my SCBWI critique group, I’m really jazzed to finish my book. Then I open somebody else’s book to edit, and my enthusiasm for mine goes away. Since I don’t feel the urge to write my own book like I used to, I guess I’m moving on in more ways than one.
Now we’ve gotten an offer on our house, which we put on the market because the kids are all grown and living elsewhere. Until the packing and moving are all finished, that might be it for both writing and editing. I’m slow as molasses when it comes to unpacking and decorating. If we move in October, it might be next year before I’m settled. But then I hope I’ll have more free time than now. Less yard for hubby to maintain and less house to clean for both of us. I don’t do well in that department.
The question is, will I want to write my own book again, or will I still be happier editing? I think I’ll make a bigger contribution to helping kids learn to love reading by helping other writers create awesome stories than by writing my own books. Sometimes I wonder though. Maybe I choose editing because of the money. It’s not much, but it’s a lot more than the near-nothing (way less than little) I’ve made writing. If there’s enough time for both pursuits, I won’t have to choose. Then moving on will be more like coming home. It’s probably a dream, but still…wouldn’t that be great?
Are you moving on in one way or another? If so, how?
Edit: Since Ken told me I was off the list, and Alex said it was probably an accident, I joined again. Once more at the bottom of the pile. A little depressing, but that won’t last. I’m too stubborn to stay down. I won’t ever reach the top, but I’ll keep climbing until I fall off again.