Come 5pm, when I’m putting together the invoice for that day’s work, I think back to being a little kid, copying verbatim out of my father’s books, or making up little stories about Teenage Mutant Turtles and thinking ‘Wouldn’t it be awesome to do this for a living.’
OK, so back then I never quite imagined that my writing career would consist largely of producing website content for businesses, but I’m completely OK with that.
Strip away everything else about me, and at my core, you’ll find a writer. It’s what I do. It’s who I am, and for reasons that I’ll probably never be able to articulate, I’m certain that this is what I was born to do.
If spending a large part of my day writing about how good my client’s businesses are means I get more time to write a novel or indulge in a little blogging here or there, I am completely happy.
I don’t want fame. I don’t want glory. I just want to write.
I’m 30 years old now. I’ve only been working as a full-time copywriter for the last two years, and only as a freelancer for the last 13 months, and I’m completely OK with that, too.
I’ve worked hard to get this. I’ve had to learn a lot. I’ve had to make lots of mistakes, piss a few people off en route and then go back and apologise later. I’ve had to get over those times when I felt like giving up and going out to get a ‘real job.’ I’ve had to fight for this, but it was worth every moment of it.
Every morning, I get up, put the coffee on, put the music on, then start writing, and I can’t believe how lucky I am.