It’s been nearly two months since I shipped my latest manuscript off to my publishers in the US and UK. Today, I heard from my British editor, who gave the pages a big thumbs-up—much to my relief. Having spent three years researching and writing the book—titled Human Game (see the post dated Jan. 12, “What happens after ‘The Great Escape’)—I had lost all perspective on it by the end. After you’ve read for the sixth or seventh time something you’ve written, it becomes a challenge to determine whether it’s any good. The positive opinion of someone outside your immediate circle of friends and family goes a long way in boosting the old confidence level. Hopefully, my U.S. editor will also think kindly of what I’ve submitted!

As the book winds its way through the editing process, I find myself torn between the desire to take time off and dive right into my next project. As stated in the post below, I work a day job to pay the bills. My writing, for the most part, is done in the evenings after my wife and son are in bed. Having my evenings free to lounge about in front of the television or to catch up on my reading is always a thing—but always present in the back of my mind is that nagging urge to get cracking on the next manuscript. Human Game clocked in at almost 100,000 words—the longest thing I’ve written by far. While I definitely need time to recharge the batteries, my compulsion (and that’s what it is) to write never seems to rest.

The reason for this may have something to do with being neurotic; it definitely has something to do with how I view myself. Although my day job is in marketing, I consider myself—professionally—a writer first and foremost. My other job is what enables me to pursue my writing. If I’m not writing, then I feel I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m merely wasting time. Watching something take shape on the page is one of life’s great pleasures! I don’t possess any grand illusions about myself; I just know what I like—and want—to do. Actually, it’s what I need to do. If I put writing off for too long a period, I eventually feel like something inside of me is going to explode.

But there’s one more reason . . . and that’s the hope that whatever project I may be working on will be “The One.” Years ago when I started writing, my primary goal was simply to be published. Once I achieved that benchmark, the next goal I set was to become a full-time author. It’s a lofty ambition and one that few writers are fortunate enough to achieve—but without a dream, how dull would things be?

A final note: It turns out researchers at Harvard have diagnosed a condition in some folks called Hypergraphia. In short, this is defined as the overpowering urge to write. Here’s an article from Psychology Today I found last night while cruising about the Web.