Oh, this writerly life

It seems like every time I turn around, some new surprise is happening in the little niche of the publishing world with which I am familiar. People are changing publishers, publishers are changing policies, agents quit to become editors or vice versa.

I'm not sure if it's just because I'm getting older, but it seems like the pace of this is happening faster and faster. Or maybe it's because I'm still not sure where I'm going with this career of mine.

There's nothing wrong with where I am. I have a lot of books out, I enjoy writing, I enjoy my day job, and I like the way it all fits together. But I always have this nagging feeling that maybe I should be doing more -- looking for an agent, or looking for a New York contract, or trying to self-publish, or doing a bit more promo.

I wonder if this is just human nature, to constantly wonder: Am I doing enough?

And just when I think this kind of thinking is important, someone gets ill and I discover what the really important things are in life. I think a health crisis for a loved one is a reminder to us: it's really just a job, people. Don't sweat it. There are other things far, far more important in this world.