Writer Woe #354-So much for the short and un-fruitful life of “Sugar Freelancer.”
Well, he’s not entirely gone, but until I can get my shit together, he’ll be on indefinite hiatus. So, this next incarnation of mine, Literary Journeyman, isn’t as bombastic but still has that artsy odor generally associated with coffee shop hipsters who, too, cannot get their shit together.
But yes, this one doesn’t feel as hyped-up for the audience and anxiety-inducing for me, but it still has enough of an identity to be marketable. (which translates to, “I was able to buy the domain name”)
I…you know…this is precisely the same thing I cried about 15 posts ago. Come to think of it, I sorta had the same crisis, er, a post ago. I suppose I’m still in my feeling out phase. Maybe it’s not that I can’t get my shit together. It’s that I need to get my shit together before I get my shit, together right?
Maybe it’s about time I turn to Medium.com, a website filled with articles for writers, freelancers, content creators, and full-stack polymaths who somehow have time to write life-lessons articles in the middle of their podcast/photography/music composition/freelance brothel running activities (probably? I’m jealous, just sayin’)
Anyway, I wrote this one in response to this one. To sum it up, I wrote this:
“At the end of the day, they [my wife and future child] are what drive my decisions. If I can take care of them, and continue to grow as a writer, great! If not, I’ll have to make some tough decisions. It’s not like the terms “side gig” or “passion project” don’t exist right?”
So yeah, am I back to square one? Fuck if I know. Maybe it’s true what Tim Denning said, and I may have to eat shit before I can rise again. How the fuck do I end this post?
Well, you’re a poopy-head, Alan.