Tell Her How Hard It Is

Selket help me, I hate that statement!

Tell her how hard it is.

I write for a living now. If you're reading this blog on a regular basis, you know I quit my Day Job in August of 2012. If you didn't know, now you do. I'm so tired of people telling me I can't make it as a writer. Have they seen my P/L report or my bank statements? No, none of you have, so why tell me something I know is patently false.

Tell her how hard it is.

Three months ago, Fabulous Niece moved in with us. This kid is so fucking talented in so many mediums! Her mother and stepfather did their best to literally beat any artistic out of the child. Yet, she still managed to get music scholarships to two different universities. The two assholes made sure she couldn't accept those scholarships, but by the time DH and I found out what was going on, FN had lost them.

Tell her how hard it is.

FN is a talented songwriter. She already knows eleven different instruments and is currently teaching herself how to play guitar. I write and DH played in rock bands for years, so we're encouraging her to pursue her interests: take lessons, continue writing songs, seek paying engagements.

Tell her how hard it is.

I'm so proud of FN that I stupidly told two friends what was going on with her. Know what they said? Yep. I wanted to scream, "Do you have a clue what I'm doing for a living?!" And one of them was a fellow fantasy writer. *smh*

Tell her how hard it is.

No, I'm not going to destroy FN's ego and put her down. She's had enough of that in her life. She already knows how fucking hard life is. She's already lived it. What exactly do these so-called friends expect me to say to her? That making a living at an art is harder than getting the crap beat out of you and starved by your stepfather?

She already knows hard it is. For that matter, so do I. Take your alleged well-meaning advice and shove it.