Every once in a while, I get to that point where I am ready to throw in the towel on my independent work as an editor, educator, and writer. My "practical" inner voice that sounds a lot like my mother says, "You need to focus on stability and taking care of your children. You can't make a living at writing and editing."
Then I have days like this.
I met with a client today. I drove 2+ hours to Cleveland, met with him for 2 hours to talk about his novel, then drove home 2+ hours. Some might say "you blew a Saturday". I got to talk with a writer about something important to him - his story. I like the characters, and I can see that ruby in the rough, waiting to be faceted. All the layers of the story are just behind the gauze curtain, waiting to be revealed. And I am geeked for him. I think it's a fabulous story and can't wait to see the next stage.
There is such a plethora of talent out there in the world, and as an editor, I get to read that talent. And I truly believe that all stories deserve to be told, and that there it no manuscript beyond redemption. I enjoy helping people get to their publishing goals.
But I have my own stories that are dying to get out. It's a challenge keeping all the plates spinning on their pikes: editing, copywriting, parenting, wellness, fitness, worship, friendships, teaching, reading, laundry. Oh, and sleep. I'm proud of the work I do, and I realize that editing actually feeds my spirit knowing that I've helped someone. I don't think I can give it up. But I need to make space for my own future books.
I think today's meeting told me "keep guiding" but it also reminded me to "keep writing." And I haven't been, except for my day job as a copywriter, which I am grateful for because it pays off my car and keeps the power on. But the stories are getting antsy, like children who've had to sit still too long. I think I need to let them out to play.