It's time to start taking myself more seriously as a writer.

Sometimes the trick is to simply leave for a while.

I have always considered writing a hobby of mine, but it is clearer to me now that my goal is to be a published author. I have no unrealistic expectations to make it big as a bestselling author overnight (or at all), and I realize that I am wandering down a path of hard work for minimal return, but this is what I want. I have rewritten my schedule to include regular writing sessions during my week.

Forgive me if I offend, but I have been attempting to read Bill Bryson's the lost continent, and I can't help but find it unforgivably boring. It seemed well-suited to my research--I'm writing a travel tale, and I generally enjoy Bill Bryson--but it's all description and no meat. Yes, I laugh at passages and appreciate the portrait of small-town America, but for what it is, I find it's too long for its own good. Having made the cross-country trek recently, I know that most of the trip is dead space, which is partly why I'm having so much trouble writing about it. No one cares how long it takes to get from Point A to Point B, how many toilets there are in a rest stop in Texas versus one in Arkansas, what we ate at the truck stop, etc. Bryson's book is serving as a cautionary tale to my novel: Don't write it like this, as tempting as it may be. No one wants to read an entire book of "You had to be there" stories.

My hope is to write in my blog every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from here on out. You know, to prove I'm a serious writer, or something.