This post has come about over something my sister said when she described my writing as a hobby in which I am, hopefully, going to be able to earn some money from. In many respects she was right. When you look at it from an outsiders perspective, it's easy to see it like that. My husband for example, loves playing golf and would give up his job in a heartbeat if it meant he could play professionally. I love to paint. I'm not too bad at it, for an amateur. But I am not good enough to be a professional and nor would I want to be - it does not fulfil me in the same way that writing does. Painting is my hobby.
For me, writing has never been a hobby. To me, it is a necessity. It is my life. One way or another I have always written (regular readers of this blog will know I used to be a business journalist). And I have always read. The two go hand in hand. But it was only four or five years ago I decided to give writing romance a proper go. By the time I had finished my first book - which, incidentally, was crap - I knew there was nothing I would rather do. I was bitten. I could not stop. Even on holidays where my husband bans me from taking the laptop, I will take a big notebook and write by hand whenever I get the chance. My characters are always with me, whether I'm driving the car or cooking dinner or simply trying to fall asleep. And I think this is true for most other writers. For me it's not a case of 'having to take my writing seriously'. That would be like saying 'take the air we breathe seriously'. It just is.