Sometimes I can’t help but question my relevance. I often lament and wonder if I chose to get into the right field of work; though I’m not really good at much else that you can make a living off of, I don’t even really know how good I am at writing. I lament the fact that I put myself in $50,000 worth of student loan debt to spend two years at school and basically land in a go fer job that I more than likely would have been able to get without shelling out a dime. I lament a lot of things about the way things have gone career wise this past year and a bit. Of course there have been high points (set work on Supernatural and and a cushy production office job starting up in June) and extremely low points (editing an independent horror film so absolutely bad that it will never ever sell and I will never ever get the other half of the money I am owed) but really, there is nothing that has happened thus far that convinces me that relevance is something that will ever be within my grasp and as far as I and see, there is nothing in the near future that hints at this either. I can enter contests until I am blue in the face; I can struggle and toil and manage to actually have something to show my agent and have something for her to shop around; I can do all of these things, but what are the chances, really?
For all I know, I'm just a really big hack with no one around with the decency to tell me I suck.
I'm starting to find truth in the saying that to be a writer is to be a masochist
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