My brain hurts…

Writing is something that I’ve always enjoyed, and something which has never been overly difficult for me. That’s not to say I haven’t struggled to bring a story to a conclusion that made sense, and was also entertaining, or that I haven’t tried to figure out why a character behaved a certain way, but it’s more of an artistic challenge than a painful struggle. It’s kind of an enjoyable pain, like choking down that last chocolate chip cookie even though you’re full, because there is no sense in leaving just one.

But as I embark on a “professional” writing career, I find I have to write things that aren’t compelling in order to get published, get clips, get “out there,” and yes, make a buck. I am working on a series of articles for a web content provider about things to do in my hometown. Interesting? Maybe. Compelling? Definitely not. Couple this with having to write on breaks from my “real” job, or after all the kids have gone to bed, and I’m not at my peak. I tried writing with my three year old daughter on my lap a couple of days ago. Well, I think I can salvage the keyboard once the Coke dries, and I take it apart and clean it…

But I’ve got to work my chops, put in the time, pay my dues. At least I’m not trying to write while working off my passage on a whaling ship. Harpooning animals makes me queasy. And I’m using a computer rather than a manual typewriter in a bumpy railroad boxcar with a scruffy guy named Willy who chews tobacco and drinks wood alcohol.

It could be worse.

So even though my brain hurts, and I’ve Googled myself into a site that showcases local weasel wrestling tournaments, I guess I shouldn’t complain. At least I’m pursuing my dream.

Did they just harpoon that weasel?