What can I say? It gets in the way of fun stuff, like writing.
On the other hand, since I’m not yet at the level of J.K. Rowling, it pays the bills.
Plus, it provides fodder for writing.
I’m a nurse. Until August 31st I was a jailhouse nurse, and people kept saying I should write a book about it. The trouble is, people will believe in elves and unicorns, but no one would believe some of the stories from that place. (Someday I am going to write a semi-autobiographical memoir about it, though. I even have a title for it.)
Now I work in a nursing home. Not nearly as exciting as the jail, but still filled with people and their stories.
Now, granted, I write (primarily) fantasy, so some of the plot bunnies from there might be more helpful to people in other genres, but still, the stories are there.
Like an old blind man who speaks in fragments of Italian. Random ramblings? Or clues to an unsolved robbery or murder or disappearance? A nurse fluent in Italian takes care of him and begins to put together the pieces of the mystery.
Of course, I suppose I could change it a bit to make it work for a fantasy setting… An old man from another land is cared for by a young woman who speaks his language, and she learns the fate of the son of the king of the man’s homeland, who has been missing for over 20 years.
Maybe the old man is a wizard? The former royal wizard? And the prince was showing promise as a wizard as well, which would mean that he would no longer be needed?
I’d better stop before I have yet another project demanding my attention.
But, see? It’s all a matter of how you look at things. Even something that interferes with your writing time can be useful.