I've been thinking about this a lot lately. I know I enjoy writing, but do I have what it takes to dedicate myself to it? I'm not sure. When I consider how often it's the last item on the priority list, I think perhaps not. I can't even say its the fault of the husband, children, job, or household chores. I watch too much tv to say such a thing.

~Reading doesn't count. It's part of the whole process for me.~

So then I ask myself if it's not a priority, what is it? A hobby? It's certainly not an addiction. I can go for days, even weeks, without writing a single word. It used to be. I remember when I couldn't get enough time on the computer, when I'd ignore television and even the people in my life, just so I could get the story out of my head and onto the screen.

When did I lose that drive? Will I ever get it back?

Then there's the whole publishing thing. Is it absolutely necessary to be published in the traditional sense? Lots of people take the e-book route. Lots and lots. I don't know how well they're doing but they've at least made an effort to get their name and book out there.

I have a story I've been seriously considering polishing (grammar and typos only) and converting to a pdf. I think I might just throw it on my website, or this here blog, and let the curious read it for free. I'd be sharing my story, and isn't that really what it's all about?

I'm going to keep thinking on this. I just don't know what in the hell I'm meant to do...