Yesterday I was working on a short fiction piece that is probably one of the weirdest things I've written (though it may not be weird enough), and I walked away from the computer very happy. Which means that I have to keep writing because when other stuff doesn't fall into place in life, writing sure does. Or at least the way I feel about it does.
I think my mistake has been to put all my eggs in one basket: whether it's a job or people or whatever. For some reason, I sometimes assume that things in the non-fiction world (ie, reality) will be enough, but then when I hit walls, instead of focusing on the obstacles, all I've got to do is write, and it's a nice option to real-life disappointments.
So the lesson I've learned is to keep pursuing creative projects because it makes life a lot more tolerable. Sort of like a backup plan: if there's no real-life adventure, then writing (or photos) can provide it.
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