I write this from a large, one-bedroom apartment in Tampa. After weeks of packing boxes, reserving moving equipment, enlisting friends, and worrying a path in my floor, I finished my move.
Periods of transition are ripe for flights of fancy, from my experience. I think that’s what attracts me to writing: I love pretending to be something else. This time, it was a fantasy of moving abroad to teach English, something many of my friends have done.
Interestingly, the desire has lasted well past the typical honeymoon period of these things.
My first thought, given my near-commitment to graduate school last year, was “will I have time to write?” Assuming I move to a country with adequate electricity, yes, I’ll have plenty of time to write. It wouldn’t keep me from selling stories back in the states, either.
One thing it has led me to: I won’t ever write full-time in the foreseeable future. Cory Doctorow said it takes four books, sold one-per-year, to get enough royalties to sustain a full-time career. Without even a single book at a publisher, I can’t think that far ahead.
Given that I’ll have a day job, one way or another, what should it be? Teaching is a possibility. I could also stay at my job as a programmer — which I do enjoy, but I feel trapped in more often than not. After all, I moved primary to be closer to work.
I’ve also watched part of the writing community, SF in particular, explode after some unsavory types wrote publicly about their desire to return to a pre-1970s mentality: run by white men, publishing stories written by white men, and read by white men. My own thoughts are these: inclusiveness and diversity are inherently good, and such people who argue against them belong back in the 20th century, where they belong.
So, current plans. I want to finish my rough draft of Future Vanguard, a middle grade novel, late next month. After, I’ll rewrite “Mold,” a horror story I worked on earlier this year, followed by another pass at A Buried Stone Gate.
I’m also learning some Japanese. I’ve long wanted to be fluent in at least one language, and I read so much original Japanese material that it just makes sense.
I may also write on more general topics on Full of Fried Fish. My life isn’t just writing, you know.