Write for your life

I had exciting plans for tonight, really. I just can't do them anymore. I'll probably just play League of Legends and sit around writing stuff all night. It'll be really exciting. Yep.
Anyways, since I'm currently trapped at my house I'll explore a really exciting topic with you, dear Reader. For once, it won't be the future, which is something I usually write about on here. Instead, I'll do a weird sort of self description and write about writing.

Awhile back I did something called NaNoWriMo and I wrote a novel. It was a very exciting time for me and I felt accomplished and intelligent and dedicated and all sorts of good feelings. It's been the first time in a long time I've really gotten into one single activity with intense dedication to the exclusion of a fair amount of sleep and time with family/friends. It felt good, really good, to have that kind of dedication to something. It made me, for a short time, contemplate a career in writing of some kind. Maybe novels, maybe television, maybe movies. Who knows. But that idea was pretty much abandoned shortly thereafter in favor of more realistic and practical career options. Like teaching and such. After all, when my parents and relatives and other such people ask what I want to do with my life, saying "I'm going to be a writer" make them ask other questions about what I want to write. And they'll want to see the other stuff I've written. And so on and so forth, going down a slippery slope into annoying relatives.

That, and the fact that I don't have the confidence in my own abilities necessary to say that I want to make a living purely off my ability to entertain and dazzle people with my words. I like words, I like messing with them, and I speak and write fairly eloquently. According to others I do, anyways. But to make a living off that is kind of a scary thought. And it seems almost unnatural, really, to do something that you would be doing anyways in order to earn money. Seriously, it seems too good to be true. Like the people who do write for a living must suffer some horrible price in order to do so. Do you have to sell your soul in order to be a writer? I might go for that deal if I could be the next Terry Pratchett or Neil Gaiman. A lack of self confidence is sort of a running theme in my life. It's rather unfortunate.

I re-read some of my novel, titled "Jump!", today. It's actually not awful. Significant improvements to be made are glaringly obvious, but still. I didn't hate the idea, and even some of the writing seemed to flow surprisingly well. But it's still difficult to say that it would be at all a viable option for my livelihood.

I want to make people laugh and think about things. But so do a lot of people. I don't think I can beat them.
Why does it always come down to who can beat who, Reader?*

*I lied. It ended up pretty much being about my future. Damn it.