I feel so upset with myself because the stuff I want to be doing is not getting done. I am not reading; I am not sending submissions to agents. But if the goal is to be a professional writer that earns money and things from words, well, I guess I'm doing that.
First there was an article for Visit Wales. That was a tremendous bit of luck that came out of nowhere and earned me a little bit of money that immediately disappeared because Jenn had forgotten we had to pay council tax this month.
Far more exciting, and also last week, was a huge adventure to the Midlands to ride motorcycles, drink free beer and score a free set of motorcycle tires. I wrote about the whole thing on my motorcycle blog, which I think was very much one of the reasons I won the competition.
And certainly I'm happy about all this. I mean, I'm pretty sure the value of that Michelin launch (free tires, a day on a top-level motorcycle, an evening in a shockingly expensive themed hotel along with food, booze, and tickets to Alton Towers) pushes me safely past my goal for this year of earning 10 percent of my income from writing. But, you know, you're not going to end up in Paris Review writing about motorbikes.
I don't know. Maybe I'm incapable of actually being happy. The correct way to look at things is to say: "Chris, you're solidly working toward your goal and it is resulting in your getting money and super awesome stuff. Stop lamenting that it won't earn you a Pulitzer and just keep moving forward." But emotionally that's hard to do. I' not being the awesome person I want so much to be.