Don't deny it - you've had this thought. We all have, in one form or another.
Last night, I ran into a woman who told me all about the young adult fantasy trilogy she was writing. When she mentioned she struggled with getting things actually written, I helpfully recommended a class at the Loft to provide a kick in the pants, and some much-needed camaraderie. To this, the woman responded with all the reasons she couldn't take a class: 70 hour work weeks, volunteering, and several other commitments that left her with "absolutely no time." She wasn't actually writing at all.
This woman fell into the magical thinking trap, firmly believing she would write the Great American (fantasy) Novel with no work on her part whatsoever. She was completely committed to the idea, but refused to make it a priority in her life.
The saddest part is that I'm fairly certain she had no idea she was doing this. I realized (not for the first time) how easy it is to let the craziness of life get in the way of your dreams and goals.
One of the biggest things I've noticed about those who are highly successful at reaching their goals (becoming a published writer, a CEO, an Olympic athlete) is that these people keep their eyes focused on their goals at all times. Even if they must occasionally take a detour, they always come back to the dream. They make sacrifices, rearrange their schedules, get up at four am, whatever it takes.
The idea is humbling, and motivating. I've often said I suffer from a lack of applying bottom to chair, that this is the main thing that keeps me from becoming the writer I want to be. The nice thing about this problem is that it is easy to remedy: Sit. Place hands on keyboard. Type. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
On the eve of a New Year, consider what's keeping you from your goals. What will it take to get you there? Are you willing to make the sacrifice? And are you willing to fail, and try again and again until you get there?
I'll admit that the idea scares me, but I'm not going to dwell on it. I'm just going to take one day at a time. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a chair that needs a bottom . . .