For me, it's very hard work. And the income is sporadic, often meager and not to be relied upon by any sane person. Each new day is an assault on a blank page from a mostly blank mind. In spite of my bloated resume, I've gone through long periods where I've had to do other, much less desirable things, to pay the mortgage and keep the lights on. Examples: cleaning other people's houses (I've done this a lot), substitute teaching, lots of adjunct teaching at colleges, something which pays miserably, being a courier, writing books anonymously for disgusting people, editing crap for publication, selling poinsettias by the roadside at Christmas, selling my furniture (which I've done 3 times), going on food stamps. I've also several times had to go without health insurance and couldn't go to a doctor when I was sick. I'll spare you a complete report. Ultimately, I write because I'm a writer and I make great sacrifices to do so. I must be crazy.