Good line, from comics writer Warren Ellis, sent out this weekend on his email-list sorta-blog, BAD SIGNAL:

“It’s nearly midnight on a Saturday night and I’m still bloody writing.¬†¬†Writing, as a job, is about as glamorous as a pig tit necklace.”

I’ve settled into my new schedule: Working from home, with the exception of in-office days on Tuesday and Wednesday. Should save a considerable amount of money, considering the daily cost of the commute on NJ Transit. Luckily, I’ve got a reasonable manager.

The realization that, given a return to Kansas, I could afford to write full-time again is never too far from my mind. I really haven’t written ANYTHING in almost 2 years. Nothing finished, anyway. First, I wrestled with a fairly crippling depression, based largely on the stress of failing finances…a nasty little death-spiral: writing was only barely scraping me along, which depressed me, making it hard for me to write, which cut down on my income, making the situation worse. Then, salvation of a sort—I got the current job. Finances got a lot better, but writing dropped off to ZERO, pretty much due to the massive commute and long work-days. The thought of being able to write, with the knowledge that I could make more than enough to live comfortably, is a big part of the attraction of returning to Kansas.

Back to work. More later.