This question has lurked in the undercurrents of my darker thoughts this last month. And like a good ostrich, I buried myself in other activities and never gave myself the breathing room to answer it.
Then, in the space of two days, three different friends asked me this same question. None of these friends know each other. None of these friends were prompted by me. Suddenly, this question was refusing to be ignored. The Universe was not going to let me gloss over this internal debate and carry on.
My glib response was: Of course. I'm a creature of habit, and I've been habitually writing for the past 12 years. To change that was going to take a little more than shaken faith.
A little deeper was the affirmation: I can't stop now; I've worked too hard to give up at this point. Basically, the past shall dictate the future.
Not a resounding cry in favor of writing.
Interestingly, though I had already responded, Yes, I love writing too much to stop, in various iterations to all three friends, the question refused to lie dormant. It bubbled up from my subconscious over and over again. The Universe kept throwing the question at me in a dozen different ways.
- When I diagnosed physical problems that had cropped up over the month using Louise Hay's You Can Heal Your Life, there was the unanswered question: Does writing make me healthy?
- When I discovered Amanda Gore's Joy Project, there was the question again: Does writing bring me joy?
- When I read The Gabriel Method by Jon Gabriel, there was the question again: Does writing feed me mentally, saving me from mental starvation?
- In Adam Savage's talk at Maker Faire, there was the question again: Do I feel a compulsion to write?
Will I continue to write regardless of monetary reward or the accolades of being published? Gladly.