I realized just what a long semester it had been this spring. Classes took all of my time and disrupted my writing quite a bit. Then I noticed that I said the same thing at the end of the previous semester. I’m starting to wonder if teaching full time will be compatible with a writing career. That’s part of the list of things to do this summer. Can I get it done?
Over the semester, I made a couple more passes over my novel. It got to the point where I couldn’t find anything else to change. I think it is as concise as it will get for the foreseeable future. I just need to do a blast to as many potential agents as I can or decide to go another route. The two alternate routes are self publishing and letting the whole thing drop.
I think I’ve gone too far to just drop it. It is more likely that I would spend a little time coming up with possible covers. Then I would use social media to see which cover was more popular and use that to self publish. If it sold anything at all, that would be good. If it didn’t, I would at least have completed a project and be able to move on.
It ultimately comes down to where writing fits into my life. I’m currently split on two major sides: writing and teaching. I’ve always been a teacher, even before that was my official job. In previous jobs, I always did the employee training. In primary and secondary school, I did the tutoring. In Boy Scouts, I trained the younger scouts all the time. When I took the full time teaching gig, I told my friends that I would have to become more teacher like. They all laughed and said I didn’t need any change.
The teaching gig is also a sure bet. My department has strong enrollment and is likely to in the future (I teach computer programming and databases). My students like me and give good reviews. My coworkers seem to like me and respect my opinion. The job pays well enough and I have a state pension slowly stacking up. It would take something significant to make leaving this job a good idea.
Then there is the writing. I still go crazy if I don’t write occasionally. Some story bits will keep me from sleeping if I don’t get them down. Like with the teaching, I’ve always been a storyteller. When my cousins and I gathered around, I was the one who had to keep them entertained with stories. Cooped up when the weather was too cold or too hot to be out, I blathered on about whatever monster would keep them most enthralled. Later, starting in junior high, I started writing the stories. I still have old notebooks from decades before and am only slightly appalled at the quality of my writing back then.
It’s likely that I will have to keep my day job and write as I find time. I may find publishing success or not. There is still some internal debate whether that is okay. There is still a part that wants my stories to change the world, to be sold for movies, and get death threats. The summer is young and the semester just ended. By September, the writer may yet beat the teacher. The idea of losing either of them makes me sad.