I Made $373.16 from Writing This Year
That’s it — and that’s okay.
An entire year’s worth of writing on here, reflected in those five digits.
That’s my only source of income for this year. I don’t have a “legitimate” job. I don’t earn money elsewhere. Nor do I have substantial expenses at the moment such as a car or a house or a child (or an addiction to Sims 3 expansion packs. I shook that off back in 2015). But that is by no means enough to cover a month’s worth of rent. That’s not enough to live off. It’s not enough to be comfortable.
And honestly; I’m okay with that. It’s not at all what I was striving for, nor is it enough to cater to how expansive my appetite is, but it’s something. It’s not nothing. It’s more than a tenner, more than a hundred, and it’s a reminder that throughout this apocalypse, I kept writing. Sure, not as frequently as I had hoped. Not as meaningfully or as widely, but I did, I still posted, I kept going, I never once considering quitting. Which means I succeeded — however you choose to define that — because I did not quit. And that’s the only way to fail.
So I gained $373.16. But I wouldn’t have cared if I got $0.16.
Except wait: should I care?
