Could I hope for anything more than that?
Finding someone to pay me to do this would be great. Maybe some day that will happen. Maybe some day I will chase that dream and find that opportunity. There was a time when I thought anything short of that was a failure and a waste of time. It turns out I was wrong. I do not need the cash or the fame (although I will still take it) to feel fulfilled. I never would have believed I would feel this way. I am having fun doing what I am doing now. I enjoy it. It pleases me.
My goals and ambitions and hopes and dreams have changed a lot just in the five years since I graduated college. Maybe someday this won't be enough. I might wake up one day and decide it's not worth it or I want more. Who knows? Hell, someday we'll all look back on this and plow into the back of a truck.
Has any of this made a damn bit of sense to any of you? Me neither. I guess I am just putting one foot in front of the other, gratefully plugging away for another 24 hours.
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From: Mark Saleski'))
To: The Hot Topic Collective
Re: Writing Ambitions
I see "ambition" as a funny sort of word when it sits in such close proximity to my name. Not that I'm a slacker or anything. It's just that things like ambition and career and success... they're sort of foreign to me.
Does that mean I've been doing nothing all of these years? Of course not. Twenty-something planet-revolutions of CAD/CAM, pre-press, and various flavors of control system software. Lots and lots of bytes. Still, it never had inertia, if you know what I mean. Or... maybe it used to.
But... this writing thing kind of snuck up on me and, maybe for the first time, ambition isn't such an odd concept.
A few years ago I started writing music reviews for Blogcritics. Yeah, there's some inertia there. Plenty of it. The funny thing is that the source for this transformation, the push, the cause... has origins from my teen years. Many nights of scouring issues of Creem magazine cover-to-cover. Hours and hours spent in the University of Maine microfilm lab looking at old copies of Rolling Stone (Did you know they used to give out roach clips to new subscribers?!)
I lived for this stuff. But.. I just could not write. Not at the age of nineteen, anyway.