Writers always like to say, “One day…” and imagine what life will be like when they finally hit it big and become world famous for their writing. I will admit I have given this some thought, and my version goes something like this:
I will make my first million, and I will invest in something that will guarantee me income for the rest of my life, no matter what. Because fame and riches never last, especially when they’re interconnected. I will retire from my day job (that will be topmost on my list after securing other income) and move to a cute little house in a cute little town where nobody goes around punching people’s lights out for the fun of it.
My little house will have a south-facing bedroom and library, with all natural wood floors and accents, including window frames and door jambs, and wrought iron handles, chandeliers, and coat hangers. There will be a guest room, and a small deck with a garden which will be tended to by a dedicated gardener to make sure no spiders survive. I will have a sun-filled attic where I’ll store all my treasures in antique wooden treasure chests. There will be old manuscripts, acceptance/rejection letters, copies of my printed books, and samples of all the little promotional thingamajigs I’d made for them over the years. You know, keepsakes. (As you can see, I’ve pretty much designed and decorated all this in my mind) I’ll have a fireplace in the living room, and a special corner next to it where I’ll put up a Christmas tree every year. There will be a pizza oven in the kitchen, but I’ll probably be a regular at the best pizzeria in town, where they’ll know me by name and have my “usual” on the table for me within minutes of sitting down. The owner and I will get to know each other really well. LOL
The house–more of a cottage, really–will be close enough to town that I can walk to the store for whatever I need, stroll the main street and meet the happy residents, but far enough that I am not bothered by neighbors dropping by at all times of day for tea and biscuits while I’m trying to work on a new novel. I’ll know the town’s bookstore intimately, and drop by often to check out new stuff. They’ll have a Local Authors section where my books will be displayed so I can go and pet them, and reminisce about what a pain in the ass that character was to write.
And the best part: I’ll spend my days exactly as I want to spend them. Whether it’s staying in bed all day, or going for a stroll to people watch, or hiking by the river, or flying out at the spur of the moment to visit friends or family (don’t worry, I’ll call first ;) ).
Because life should be about more than just the 9-5 daily grind, and petty politics, and hours stuck in traffic with broken air conditioning and bad music on the radio. I said once, years ago, that I am a person happy to be content in whatever situation, no matter how far removed from where they really wanted to be. There is virtue in loving what you have, rather than yearning for what you never will, but my fear has always been that I’d get voluntarily stuck in that kind of complacency, and never find my way out.
So this post isn’t just a far off fantasy for me. It’s a promise to myself to keep looking up, and never stop reaching for my dream. It’s such a simple dream, after all…