Confessions of a Lost Scribe

It’s 9:30 on a Thursday night. I have just spent the last two and a half hours in front of my computer trying to figure out how to put a website together. At least I had my trusty AI companion by my side.  All of our combined knowledge and efforts resulted in a single embarrassing page. One stinking page to show for all the time away from family, from writing, from exercise. Basically, anything worth my time. Why am I doing this? Is it because I enjoy computers? Is it because I am trying to avoid my family? Or is it because I have bitten off more than I can chew? I guess the answer depends on who you ask. Since I don’t know anyone in tech who would vouch for my love of computers, the list is getting narrowed pretty quickly.

I decided recently, against my better judgment, to give the baking thing a little more consideration. See, I love to bake (for those who don’t know), and I have gotten pretty good at this craft. And I’m not just taking my word for it. I’m hearing the responses from those who dare to take a bite. I have convinced myself, or have been convinced, to branch out into the farmers market world and sell these suckers. It sounded great at first. Then I started figuring out what it actually takes to sell these things. I recently created a couple of social media pages, and now we need a website. With each step, things get more and more complicated and time-consuming. I began to ask myself the same question I used to ask myself when I ran the screenwriters’ group–what am I doing?

My family has been understanding and supportive. My wife said she would help at the markets; my daughter was on board as well. I never would have decided to move forward if the support wasn’t there. There is way too much time and commitment required; if they weren’t on board, I’d fail. They are, and it feels wonderful. I am blessed. I still wonder, though: What am I doing? I love to bake, but start a business? That part sucks.

Every morning since February, I have been getting up at 4:30 a.m. to write for an hour. I have been working on my book, actually rewriting it. It has been an exciting process, and I have learned so much. I have had the time and have made the time to commit to this process. I stepped down from the screenwriting organization I started and ran for 17 years to give myself the space that I needed to concentrate on my craft. That was then. How quickly priorities change. Have I learned nothing from the years of committing my limited time and energy to other things? I loved running PSA, and I loved the feeling of seeing others excited about upcoming classes and events, but at the end of the day, it didn’t fulfill me. There was always a nagging in my gut that I was missing something.  That something was my writing. Oftentimes I found myself asking, “Why am I doing this?” The answer was always, “Because I needed to.” I made excuses and convinced myself that I liked it until one day I finally answered my own question–I was doing this to avoid what really needed to be done –write my own story.

I love baking as much as I love writing. Both are creative, and both give me a sense of purpose, but for different reasons. I have committed myself to completing my book, something that stands above all else, and while I am taking on the challenge of this new venture, I must take a step back and understand why I am doing it and not let it become the reason I quit writing. I am doing it for me and my family with the hope that maybe someday, out of this hobby, I can grow something bigger than myself and leave a lasting legacy that can be carried on when I am gone. That is it. Plain and simple. I am doing it for us.