So a few weeks ago, I received my very first royalties cheque. I briefly considered never cashing it and putting in a frame, but my desire to pay down my debt load just a little bit more (and really, it wasn’t a great deal of money) won out in the end.

I’m sure it will come as no big surprise when I tell you that I don’t write to become rich and famous. That’s never been my style, and if that is your key motivation for writing I would suggest you taking a second look at what you’re doing. Writing shouldn’t be done for another reason than for the pure joy of it. But maybe that’s just me.

Okay – getting off my soapbox and returning to my point.

Finding a cheque waiting for me in my mailbox was an incredible confidence boost. It’s the one thing that really concerned me about taking a leap of faith and publishing some of my writing was the nagging fear that no one will like what I wrote – let alone buy something I put out in the universe. Sure, your closest friends and immediate family are guaranteed sales, but a certain point you don’t necessarily expect that there will be anyone else.

But I sold enough copies to get at least one royalty cheque. And in some small way, that makes the whole process worthwhile. I makes me realize that people are actually interested in reading my stuff, and that in some small way I have touched them. And that – above anything else publishing something could possibly achieve – is the biggest rush.

Do I still have dreams of being a big-time writer? Of course I do. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t have some small dream of making it big as an author. It’s something I have thought about since I was 15 and first realized I was a pretty decent writer when I started at my high school newspaper. It was something I proved to myself when I managed to get a co-operative work experience at an Ottawa radio station based on the strength of one little piece of writing. It’s still the rush I get when someone tells me they have enjoyed something I wrote that they have read.

The writing, the craft, is what matters most to me. It’s the rush of having the characters talk to me, and tell me their story, and the feeling that I simply can’t keep the story in my head. When I see the images and scenarios in my head, I want to put them down to record them. It’s the reason I have bits and pieces of stories all over my apartment (and haven’t lost or thrown away a single one so far).

I’m a writer. Regardless of whether I ever sell anything – it’s who I am at my core. And, oddly enough, it’s more than I could have asked for in my life.

But I won’t be just as excited when my next royalty cheque shows up…