All I’ve ever wanted to do was write fiction.

This is a gross overstatement and not completely true, because no one forced me to earn a PhD in English Literature, marry, mother, manage a business, or write medical copy – among other activities. I chose to do all these things, and often for good reasons. Nevertheless, throughout all these phases of my life, writing fiction has remained a constant desire. So when my life presented me with an opportunity to do just that – I didn’t.

Still consumed with the marketplace mentality that equates money earned with value, I became a pen-for-hire, writing freelance copy for pay. I snagged some really interesting assignments, and some that paid really well. But I still wasn’t writing fiction.

My younger brother, an award-winning playwright, helped me out. “Pay yourself to write,” he advised.

“How do I do that?” I asked.

“What would it cost you to take a creative writing course?” he asked.

“About three hundred dollars,” I guessed.

“Send me a check for three hundred dollars, and I’ll send it back when you meet your deadline with a short story.”

“And if I default?” I asked.

“I’ll contribute it to some heinous cause.”

I sent him the money and entered the short story deadline in my planner, just as if I was writing for one of my clients. Every couple of weeks, my brother sent me a link to some organization raising funds to support causes that are anathema to me. Losing the $300 wasn’t motivating me nearly as much as the thought of bankrolling a gun lobby.

I finished a rough draft three weeks before the story was due even as I continued to accept and complete high-paying jobs. With just that little bit of extra pressure, I discovered I could put writing fiction ahead of paying work and still meet my deadlines.

That was a few years ago. I still work for pay – but every year I spend more time – and earn a little more money – from writing fiction. Even better than the money, though, is finally doing what I’ve always wanted to – writing fiction. I’ve discovered there’s something even better than earning money with my pen – and that’s being read.

Deborah Lee Luskin is the author of Into The Wilderness, “a fiercely intelligent love story” between two 64-year-olds, set in Vermont in 1964. Luskin is a regular Commentator on Vermont Public Radio, an editorial columnist, and a free-lance writer. In addition, Luskin teachers literature and writing in prisons, hospitals and libraries; she holds a PhD in English Literature from Columbia University. Learn more at her website: www.deborahleeluskin.com