Image by Steve Johnson from Pixabay
Welcome to what has to be Version 6 of “Why Am I Still Doing This?” And by “this”, I’m referring to writing plays. I know deep deep deep inside the answer is “because I don’t know how to do anything else.” That’s because that’s been the answer every time I ask this question of myself. But like everything, this too shall pass.
Right now, this question revolves around another question, “What difference am I making by spending time to write?” Honestly, what are the returns am I getting by writing? Tbh, I am getting paid… or more precisely I will get paid when I’m finished writing. I have two sources of incoming income after I finish 2 of my projects. Damnit. I guess this is the reason I’m writing this post is to remind myself that I am getting some kind of financial gain, and I’M TRULY GRATEFUL for these opportunities!
But I guess in the bigger world picture, I think I’m asking myself, what will I get in terms of legacy will I be getting back. It’s that existential question of “does what I’m writing or what I’m doing going to matter?” Damnit again! All this makes sense after typing these questions out. Of course it does. It matters with everything request I get from a student asking to use my work for a school project. It matters every time someone asks what I’m working on next. It matters when I’m reminded by the times when someone thanks me for writing a story told on stage that is a reflection of the world that they live in.
Damnit. I started this post as a kawawa-why? am I still doing this and, per usual, when I sit down to write (on a comfy sofa I might add) the answers seem to flow out of me like dialogue that spills out of a character confronting what’s been on the tip of their tongue from the inciting incident.
Onwards and upwards!