When Writing Becomes A Painful Sacrifice
By: Mecyll Gaspary
Tags: Writing Life, Writing Tips, Inspirational Stories, Writing, Writing Prompts

When Writing Becomes A Painful Sacrifice

For anything worth having one must pay the price; and the price is always work, patience, love, self-sacrifice — no paper, currency, no promises to pay, but the gold of real service. John Burroughs

I stayed awake the whole night to write as many articles as possible to meet my deadline, while my husband stood not far from me, facing down to focus.

Although I still have more than a week left, I tried my best to finish the project earlier than the agreed schedule. For what purpose? Money. I need money as soon as I can. I know it is an unhealthy lifestyle choice, but what can I do to feed my family?

For sure, I am happy that I earn an income by writing all day long. I have no problems waking up early in the morning to start my day and run errands before I sit down on my swivel chair and start working until early morning the next day.

From day to night, I did nothing but typing words on the screen. But would you believe me that writing is also as exhausting as any other physical job?

How couldn’t it be stressful when someone shells out real money from his pocket to pay for my writing services? Is there any hobby in the world that doesn’t require sacrifice to make it work? Even the most stupid hobby entails time, effort, and money, too.

It is my fault that I have come to this situation. It is my fault why writing slowly becomes another day-job.

Deep down in my heart, writing has always been my constant companion. My diaries and journals have been the only ones that lent their ears to me when nobody wants to listen. From grade school to college, I preferred staying in the libraries when the world seemed to be unfriendly to me. At least, the books allowed me to be weird.

That was writing for me before it morphed into a business opportunity. Over the past six years, turning seven, I honestly couldn’t recognize my writing style before I began freelance writing.

Though I have an unquestionable passion for what I do, it changes the whole meaning and experience. It doesn’t feel the same way.

Despite the money I make, writing becomes an obligation. Rather than a source of life and balance for me, it devours my soul and well-being. When money comes into the picture, resisting ill-intent and negative perspective towards it is indeed challenging. I know you felt that, too.

I couldn’t count how many times I wished and hoped they would understand me. Besides, I am doing this for them.

As my once-hobby-turned-business continues, I worked with a client willing to pay thousands of dollars to write for him. Of course, I accepted his offer, so I did.

I jumped into writing three to four articles a day, which became five a few weeks ago. Just a day away from the original deadline (before moving it to the 31st), I almost finished 80 articles with at least 500 words each.

At this point, I am wondering how writers survive this kind of life. It’s anti-social by nature. There is no way you can socialize and write at the same time. So, you need a place where you can remotely work and be alone.

It is a rather unfortunate kind of life. But I chose this. When my parents want me to search for a teaching job, I refused and pursued this choice. It is my fault that I have come to this situation. It is my fault why writing slowly becomes another day-job.

My eyes focused on the screen and sometimes with a headphone on to play music. I was too focused to such an extent that I unintentionally ignored other people. I couldn’t count how many times I wished and hoped they would understand me. Besides, I am doing this for them.

If I were selfish, I wouldn’t do this. I would rather spend most of my time on necessary things. And there’s nothing more valuable than spending it with my loved ones while they are still around.

Because I know human life is only a borrowed time. You will never know when you will lose them. The fact is, it happens when we don’t expect it. At least, I was able to cherish those moments with them.

If I give up writing, how could we live off our lives if I won’t make a little sacrifice? How can we have something to put on the table if I won’t do this?

I am wondering how writers survive this kind of life. It’s anti-social by nature.

Besides, all I have to do is sit down, stare at the screen, think, type, and repeat the process. That’s how it is all about, am I right? Writing is simple. It is only a combination of thinking, typing, and sitting.

But is it worth it?

Is my purpose big enough to keep myself in this painful writing game undistracted?

Honestly, I do feel guilty when I think about how much time I took for granted because of it. I have been talking less and less with my sister, my parents, and my husband. I tried to take breaks in between, though I knew that one hour away from my screen could have been a finished article.

Every hour I missed writing was an hour of free and once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to show how much you care and love your family.

Yes, money can bring you and them to greater heights, live in a comfortable shelter, and sustain the likelihood of your survival.

For writers, earning money is a motivation for sure, as most of us want to make a living from what we love doing. Nevertheless, the purpose of writing and the decision to monetize that craft should align with what you truly value in life.

For me, I will consider myself a hypocrite if I tell you I didn’t work hard for money because I do. But here’s the difference. That money I will make from writing will help my family pay off debts and be free. That money will allow me to see my family’s happy faces. That’s how I see it.

Is it wrong?