The days are busy. So are the nights.
You work.
You write.
It’s what you do. You walk around with a notepad and pen all the time, a blue tooth attached to your ear, and a cell phone in your pocket. Your phone is almost always on. If you’re not in the car, you’re, most likely, in front of a computer.
Once a week, you have dinner with your family (the ones who live close by).
As far as friends go: Your schedule doesn’t allow much time for get-togethers, unless they happen to fall on a day when you don’t have to work, or finish a chapter, or edit a chapter, or finish cover art, or blog, or any of the other have-tos or need-tos you’re scheduled to complete. Admit it. You’re not a very good friend–unless someone you care about is going through crisis. Then, you’ll drop everything, turn off your computer and cell phone, and focus only on the person who needs you.
So, if you’re making your deadlines, that must mean your friends don’t need you for anything, right? (You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing their lives must be going well)
But what about all that fun you used to have together? The laughter? The stimulating conversations? The swimming? The overindulgent desserts?
Forget it. You’re a writer.
And your friends have gotten used to your busy signal.
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”
— Ernest Hemingway
Stephen King said that you’re days in polite society are numbered when you become a writer.
As long as you manage to find time for family, and some friends.