For the last year to year and a half, I've written on my fiction or poetry (mostly fiction, as poetry tends to be a spontaneous burst) five to seven days a week. It was constant. My mind was able to escape for that hour or so that I was able to sit down and fully immerse myself in my fictional world with characters that, while I made them up, take on a life of their own.
A little over a week ago, I finished up my latest science fiction short story. I've sent it to a few test readers and I'm letting it sit; only after letting it sit for a few weeks will I be ready to go back over it with a fresh perspective. In the meantime, I've been working on a non-fiction booklet. During this time, I've felt... well, antsy I guess would be the word to describe it.
I've always felt down or depressed somewhat when I wasn't writing for long stretches at a time. It was those times when I'd tried to give up the craft in favor of something more tangible, more normal. It was after struggling with myself for so long that I knew I couldn't ignore it.
Even though I'm writing for a living now, it is the fiction aspect of writing that gives me a sense of belonging, a sense of peace, a sense of purpose. I can write non-fiction to my heart's content; I've had descent success even. But it's not my calling and it's not something that I will be happy doing forever. Only those who have heard their true calling will understand that.
I won't be doing many more of these longer non-fiction projects, that's for certain. I want my fiction worlds back!