Anne Faye

 Why bother writing? I admit that this is a thought that has crossed my mind more than a few times lately (and by lately, I mean many of the last twenty years that I have been writing). It is hard to keep going when book sales and page views are minimal and the income produced is far below minimum wage. It is hard to see so many books out in the world with tons of reviews and sales and know that by comparison my work has failed (and by extension, I have failed), that very few people care about anything I write. To be fair, there are many writers in the same boat as me. Of course, I'm not actually able to stop writing, at least not without feeling even worse. God gave me this gift. I have all these ideas that need to get out or else they just sort of bubble inside of me if I don't work on them, taking up mental space that is better used for other tasks.   On my better days, I do realize that writing for one person matters, that perhaps a few someone's lives are a bit better...

I was feeling seriously discouraged yesterday. I was cleaning out a closet, purging a bunch of stuff, among them items related to failed career attempts. Some of this was from ten years ago, and I am sure no one cares, or remembers, but me, but I still felt like a failure. Then, I got a present-day career disappointment. All of which left me feeling, why bother? Then I walked into my hallway, where I have this poem hanging. I first discovered this poem when I was a sophomore in high school. I typed it up (on a typewriter!) and made a frame for it and hung it in my bedroom. It helped keep me going through some very bad days. A few years later, I came across a framed print of it at a craft show. I bought it and it has been hanging in my home ever since. Most of the time, I hardly pay attention to it, but every now and then, it is just what I need. I can't say that it totally brightened my mood. I still feel pretty discouraged, but it serves as a good reminder to keep going, even ...