I’m not a lucky person. Just ask my friends or my fourth grade teacher. We had a Halloween party that year and we were allowed to bring soda cans from home that were stored in the teacher’s lounge refrigerator until lunch time. My can of Coke was appropriately labeled with my name and yet, still stolen–the only one stolen–from the fridge. I was nine and someone stole my soda. Maybe that doesn’t sound like a big deal, but it sums up my life in one little story.
I had a former friend tell me, “I know no matter how bad my day is, I can call you up and yours will be worse.”
See? I have no luck and everyone knows it.
So why then would I possibly spend my entire life dreaming of becoming a successful writer when only 1 in 300,000 writers actually make a living from it?
Because I have stories to tell and my purpose in life is to entertain people with them. Even if I never make it to a bestseller list, I’ll still write. I’ll still dream. I’ll still hope that hard work actually counts for something (as opposed to dumb luck).
Got a dream? Want to give up and get a donut because it’s not happening? Get the donut and keep trying. You’ll never know if your dream could have come true if you quit. And if you never make it, well, you can look back and say you did everything you could with no regrets.