From this week’s Night Bazaar column, my second-to-last:
This week’s topic is “What was the year like for you as a writer.” Such a topic is dangerous for me. It encourages me to navel-gaze, something I’m far too good at. So, honoring the mood of the season, I’ll try to keep it moderately brief, and hopefully maudlin as hell.
2011 was the third year I’ve lived without a day job (though the first year, 2009, was a partial one). I like it. I’ve also loved my day jobs, but there’s something exceedingly “special” — in both its ironic and non-ironic senses — about being able to focus totally on reading and writing.
And when I say reading and writing, that’s what I mean. Reading is the side of the writing life that I never thought I’d like so much, and for me, it has to be a daily occurrence, or I lose a sense of what I’m here for.