Thursday, May 31, 2012

My Selfish Goal

      I've been thinking a lot about my goals, and how I can possibly achieve them.  I've spent the last few years raising my children and my loftiest ambition thus far has been to keep my sanity in tact.  I remember that I used to have goals for my life- doctor, lawyer, Marine Biologist- but they've all just sort of fallen by the wayside.  Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't trade my children or the precious time I spend with them for anything, but I did envision something different for myself.  It might make me selfish, but I'd like to acquire an identity outside of motherhood. 

      I don't want to go back to school.  Even though I finished my degree almost three years ago, I still have vivid nightmares about missing six weeks of a class I forgot I had, or trying to do ALL of my work-study hours in one day.  Those dreams are probably my worst nightmares to date.  But I want to do something.  Not to toot my own horn, but I am gifted in some ways I think- not all of them are evil.  I'd love to be a Career Author.  I'd love for people to read and enjoy things that I have written.  I'd love to watch my bank account swell with the royalties and profits from my adoring fans!  Ahem, anyways...

     I've written some stuff, but looking back on it, my heart wasn't really in it.  I wrote romances because it's supposedly the easiest and most profitable genre, not because I was particularly good at it, obviously.  I've submitted some adult-oriented stuff for contests and received fairly high reviews.  I guess, thanks to the fame of the Shades of Grey books, I could become Queen of the Smutkingdom.

    I want to write a novel that inspires the masses.  It will enthrall my readers, making it physically impossible for them to put my books down until they've read every single word-twice.  I want to write something that makes you think about yourself and your world differently; something that hangs with you for days, months, years even.  I want to publish a novel that makes Stephen King weep in envy of my awesomeness, and then I will use my newfound fame and clout to demolish his undeserving literary career.  Oops, that part was meant for my Evil Plotting notebook, not my Blog Idea notebook.  I really need to get a better filing system together. 

    I want to be a respected author before I die.  Of course, I'd have to have written something that's not garbage to accomplish that.  I guess I could write a novel that's somewhat worthwhile and then fake my own death, dead artists do seem to be the most popular.  Look at Michael Jackson, we all hated him and thought he was a creepy pedophile until he died. His estate has made millions of dollars since his death.  I think I'm onto something here, I'll make a note of it for my previously mentioned E.P notebook. 

:. I think Mr. Cropper left out two very important letters from his title .:

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