Life has a marvelous way to training one to live. As the years sift through the proverbial hourglass, we sometimes forget that the pile of sand below the narrow neck grows—and the sand above diminishes.

I find that interesting. Thought-provoking. What can that mean?

I hope it means that each grain of sand is a little chunk of wisdom, and that as we age, we accumulate wisdom.

And we change. We change in marvelous ways.

I know that when I was 20, I wanted to be famous. I wanted to write something so spectacular that the world would “beat a path to my door.”

But now, decades later, the idea of finding fame is far, far, far from my list of priorities. In fact, I now understand completely the reticence of some people to eschew fame. I get it.

I suppose it has something to do with being satisfied. And I am satisfied with my life. I am especially satisfied with my writing life. It has entered a phase where I write what I want to write, and I don’t write what I don’t want to write.

Not too long ago, I emailed the author of a book I had finished and enjoyed. It was a first novel for her, and it had been a success. She appreciated my affirmation, yet from her email I learned she was frantically trying to produce another book for her publisher. She wrote: ” I am working on a new book and writing for the first time with a hard deadline.”

A hard deadline. I DO NOT miss hard deadlines. I cannot imagine anything worse than trying to write a book to please a publisher, to be under his thumb, to suffer the pressure to write another “success.”

Perhaps that’s why I’m satisfied. And why I no longer rush to find an agent, snag a publisher, and sign a contract.

Nope. I am loving the freedom of self-publishing.

As I finish up all the final details of my newest novel, as I watch the formatting and cover emerge from my tiny team—my editor and my graphic designer—I am enjoying the anticipation of sending out a third book into the world. And doing it my way.

This new book will, of course, never lead to fame and fortune, but it does lead to the very real and very satisfying sense of accomplishment.

And that is plenty for me.