Are We Crazy For Wanting to Be Writers?
By: Itxy Lopez
Tags: Advice, Writing Tips, Creativity, Success, Writing

I’ve always dreamed big dreams. No matter what I’ve tried pursuing, I’m always confident that I’m going to succeed. So far, I’ve never actually succeeded, but I keep believing it anyway because the alternative doesn’t make sense. Why would I attempt something that I was sure I was going to fail at, right?

Someone recently left a comment on my article What My Day Looks Like as a Full-Time Writer saying:

“I am curious as to how this will change as you grow and develop as a writer and an adult. Is your only source of income writing on Medium or do you also do freelance writing etc.?”

Very confidently I said that Medium was my only source of (consistent) income. I also said that I’d like to self-publish short books, but most of all, I’d love to publish novels traditionally.

It wasn’t until I wrote it that I realized how insane I sounded. Naive, even. I mean, how many other writers want to publish novels and make a living off of writing books? What makes me different? What are the chances of me actually succeeding?

And am I an idiot for assuming that at some point I’m going to make $5,000 a month on Medium? Because I do assume that. I genuinely believe it.

To me, all of these dreams aren’t a matter of if they’ll happen, but when they’ll happy. It’s not because I think my work is great. Nor am I saying that I don’t have doubts that I’ll never succeed in this industry, nights when I want to curl up in bed and forget it all.

I ask when and not if just because I’ve always known that I’m not going to quit. Giving up is an option so far from me it touches the sun. That’s why, even for something as insane as traditionally publishing a book, I don’t doubt that it’ll happen someday. Even if it’s twenty years from now.

But am I crazy? Should I be setting more concrete goals? Should I think about finding a “real” job instead of writing articles on here? As I sat there, for the first time in my life, those are the doubts that ran through my head. For the time, I was genuinely afraid for my future.

I got a glimpse into what “everyone else” thinks. For a moment, I thought, “This is why people judge those who pursue their dreams. Because they look fucking crazy.” I know what I look like now, to others. Like I’ve got my head stuck in the clouds.

But after the fear dissolved, I thought: Is that so bad?

I mean, this is what I want. It’s clear to me, now more than ever, that this is what I want. To write for a living.

If you were to ask me what else I’d like to do other than write I’d tell you to stop asking questions that have no answers, like what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

I know one thing: this is the only life I’m gonna get. This is the only chance I’m going to get to live and reach my goals. How can I not go after them? How can I not believe that I will achieve them, especially knowing that even though the odds are low, this shit is not impossible? I’m not on a mission to swim every inch of the ocean. I just want to write.

If people have done it before me, then there’s nothing that says I can’t.

For the first time, I realize maybe I am a little crazy, but I’d rather be crazy than be dictated by fear. If I can’t imagine doing anything else, then why would I do anything else? How could I let other people’s opinions stop me from living my life as I want to? Especially when most of those people wish they were doing what they loved, too.

I’m going to continue believing. I’m going to keep assuming that I’m going to reach these goals.

If you’re crazy like me, if you want to make a living by acting or writing or drawing, then keep being crazy. As Robin Williams said once:

You’re only given a little spark of madness. You mustn’t lose it.

Be dedicated, keep learning, and stay open to the opportunities around you. Don’t stop until you’ve gotten to where you are because as Hugh Jackman said, you have to follow your gut even if it doesn’t make sense.

Making a full-time living by making up stories doesn’t make sense. Being in a movie that people watch on the big screen doesn’t make sense. Making music and singing in front of thousands of people doesn’t make sense. But logic is overrated.

Let everyone else fit in and make sense, and you, my friend, keep being a little fucking absurd.

I know what I love. I know what my gut is telling me, and we all know that when you don’t follow your gut, shit always goes wrong.

Trust your gut, too. It doesn’t need to complicated. I’m not saying you have to quit your job and risk losing a stable income. I’m saying that if you want to keep writing, then stick around no matter how many cracks in the road there are and even if you can’t see the end for a long time.

I’ll be here too, anyway. You’re not alone.