Once every few months I am visited by the Grim Reality. It tells me that what I'm doing to seek profit and a livelihood will either be useless or have a high risk of failure with no immediate monetary gain. In the past I would listen to the Grim Reality, panic, and switch to one of two options. I would either search the old list of employers who have historically turned me down or go to another hopeful yet similar scenario I was in before; one with high risk of failure. Yet as I would pull away from the useless goal, the dream of succeeding in it still haunted me.
The concept of creating illustrations will never go away. I draw out my ideas for writing, but the actual process of drawing a simple four panel comic takes longer than a daily comic deadline demands. I was drawing the comic with graphite, pen and paper and only editing digitally. I realize now that I was going about it all wrong. I should have used larger size paper rather than letter or legal size.
Having put aside the comic idea for now, I've been writing, or at least attempting to write, a novel. To help the moral of writing a novel, my family has purchased books on how to write and successfully publish a book. On one side it has shown me how to develop believable characters and plot that isn't so cliche it's boring.
On the other side, the process of developing characters has changed how I've been writing. It has virtually brought the ongoing process of the draft to a screeching halt. It's as if I've had to overhaul what I've already done.
Most recently, I have found a flaw in my philosophy of work ethic: I cannot have multiple passions of equal strength. I must make a decision and sacrifice a dream that still clings to me.