|To Ride is To Borrow Wings|
When you're a writer, you are basically a retailer of ideas.
Ideas are your stock. The writing is your product. So, your inventory costs are very low.
Used to be, you needed a typewriter, paper, some envelopes and some stamps. Now, you need a computer and a decent internet connection.
And lots and lots and lots of time. Which is always expensive in anyone's accounting. But for writers--even though you can sneak in a paragraph in the morning before taking the kids to school, or change a word before you go to bed at night--it takes an astonishing amount of time to whittle words into sharp little points that drive your idea home. Even the worst, most prolific novelist really makes pennies per hour when all is taken into account.
But even years are not always enough time to make a good writer into a great one. Ideas--however good--sometimes moulder away in the mind's warehouse--slouched over in dull, lumpy shapes on musty couches, taking up space.
You have all those second thoughts as you go over them--maybe you can make something of them yet, if you just went at it again, brushed them up a bit, moved them around, maybe looked at them from a different angle. Maybe.
But I had this other idea. I'm selling actual stuff. Big stuff that takes up space and costs real money. Lots of money.
Soon, I'll be moving this blog to my online retail site--Hippique-Hippik. I'll have second thoughts about 19th century French sidesaddles and silver stirrup cups.
I don't have time for Second Thoughts anymore. It's forward over the wall!