I never really intended to be a workaholic. I used to like my down-time, gaming with friends, watching television, going to the zoo. But there has been a transition over the past few years. My kid brother finally called me on it this weekend and I was forced to face the truth.

See, the day job has inflexible hours. Monday through Friday, 40 hours every week. If you figure 8 hours of sleep a night (which is a rarity), and an hour to and from work each day, that still leaves 52 hours to do my own thing. That’s more than enough time for a second full time job. And that’s kind of what my writing and publishing has been for me.

And I need that second job, not because it brings in money. In fact, I think I lost money doing it last year between publishing start-up expenses and conventions. But I need to be doing something I care about, something I love. And let’s face it – the day job doesn’t cut it in that department. Sure, it’s better than any of the other crap jobs I’ve had in my life, but it isn’t exactly fulfilling.

I need to be creating to be happy. It’s as simple as that.

So this weekend, when it was all sunny and I had very few things on my calendar (TV with a friend Saturday night, and an hour for podcast reading on Sunday), I found things to do. I write the chapter outline for a Young Adult novel I’m going to write for next year. I spent hours fixing the Cobalt City Guide and Timid Pirate pages, getting links updated and things moved around. I updated character profiles for the guide and pre-loaded a chunk of them to blast out all this week. In short, I got busy and have a lot to show for it.

And tonight, while making dinner, I get to convert two books to an e-book format and get that set up in the store. Busy night ahead. And I couldn’t be happier.

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