The wanabe novelist blues

This morning I listened to a interview of the author of “The Lost Sisterhood” (see video below) and I thought to myself “*I* have a story about Amazons!” and I got a little depressed thinking I will never get it done and published because I can’t afford to be a starving writer (or my family can’t afford for me to be one).  If only I had been born into a publishers/professors/novelists/famous actor/newspaper/etc family, the struggle would have been over by now.  I know I write relatively well.  My art is very good by all accounts, but I still can’t sell any of it.  I don’t have the time with a full time job, and I didn’t have enough time to learn the ropes between employment.  I understand this is what agents are for, but I haven’t got an agent either (most of the authors I know don’t have agents either).

I just got a new job with a fabulous pay raise, but it’s not writing.  I’m working in an energy/utility in the Survey department.  I am a surveyors daughter and have been working in related fields since I was 16, so I have a lot of experience.  I spent most of Saturday just dinking happily in my back yard, doing my next favorite hobby, gardening.  This morning, I’ve been working on my art, but more to sell at my etsy store than to add to my illustrations.

Is it vanity that I think I’m publishing worthy material, or is it what I need to keep pushing forward toward that goal?  I don’t really know.  What do you think?