10. You keep telling yourself and everyone you’re doing it for the art, and that money and recognition don’t matter, but deep down, they do, and you’d like some, please, if no one would mind
9. You await feedback from beta-readers like you’re in a medieval court, awaiting judgement of the King or Queen as to whether or not you keep your head (for EACH beta reader)
8. You check top 10 lists and feel only half apply to you, and you’re conflicted whether or not that should feed your insecurity about whether or not you’re good enough to keep doing this
7. When someone says they’ve just read a really good book, you’re momentarily skeptical and defensive, thinking that maybe it will be the one that convinces you that you’re a fraud. Never happens
6. You feel no matter how many books you write, you’ll never earn more than you spend on books
5. You believe there’s a special Hell for people who offer the cheap pens that always make a mess, whenever you need one
4. You look at notebooks like its a potential lover, caressing it, seeing how it feels, imagining the things you could do with it
3. You feel naked and muted without some form of writing device, be it pen and paper or a digital device when you’re out
2. You pause movies when you watch them, and tell those watching it with you what the “correct” dialog to come should be. 90% of the time, you’re massively disappointed
1. You stop listening half way through conversations because you’re playing out a better version in your head
0. When you’re on a roll, you don’t stop, regardless of the word count, hour, lack of personal hygiene, or what number in a top 10 list you’re on! The muse is smiling, write fool! write!
-1. When you’ve done a great thing, you stop and wonder if you’ve just wasted your time and gone to far. Maybe it was better before, maybe you should restore from a backup… maybe you should have made a backup.