Thankfully in Oz we don't have anything quite like Black Friday. The Boxing Day Sales are about the closest we have, but there's a much greater risk of being trampled in a clothing store than there is in the grocery store I work in so I feel pretty okay. Need to pay the rent somehow.
Oh dear God, I never want to work retail. Least of all during Black Friday. I have too many nightmares.
Making money feels good, but making money doing what you actually want to be doing (even if that is writing, which is a love/hate thing) feels even better. My retail job feels like selling my soul compared to earning through writing.
I know what you mean. I never had a job so making my own money for the first time felt pretty good. They have a payment threshold of one-hundred bucks so I won't see my first paycheck for a while now, but I'm determined. I can't picture myself doing anything else.
Making anything off writing, even if it is just peanuts, feels pretty excellent. I won $75 a couple of weeks ago for a short story I wrote, which is the largest sum of money my writing has ever brought in for me. I'm still on quite a high from that.
Stupid uni! At least I enjoy the reviews and made eleven bucks off of them so far so I can't complain too much.
Yes, this matter of priorities is what has been tearing me away from my writing of late. Stupid uni.
There's also a matter of time. My reviews are currently my primary source of income and it takes all week just to chart down one. They're kind of top priority. Then I get lazy and can't be assed to keep my social network pages up to actually promote myself.
Nothing you can do but continue practising. I have lot of half-finished stories that I need to get back to. Lately though I've been submitting my work to writing journals and competitions and gaining a little bit of success there has encouraged me to submit to more. Having cut off dates for these things encourages me to actually see my ideas though. That hasn't helped my novel at all though. Or my other novel.
The only stories I've finished were a bunch of old Harry Potter fanfics and they were bad. Everything since then have been left incomplete. Some times I'll get as far as chapter twelve, other times I'll barely make it to chapter two. I have so many different characters, locations, ideas and versions of these ideas in my head it's a pain to even know where to start. I'm also starting to think it may be in my best interest to just stick with reviews. At least I finish those.
