As Long as I Don't Think About Capitalism, I'm Fine: Life as A Writer Who Has Yet to “Make It”
Photo by @kellysikkema on Unsplash
When I spend a few hours writing, editing, formatting, and scheduling a blog post, I feel good and accomplished.
When I write and schedule the accompanying newsletter, I feel even better.
When I make a Pin in Canva and upload it to Pinterest and hit publish, I feel like a real business owner.
When I get in a high-energy and creative mood and make (“batch” as we in the content creation industry - whether we like it or not - call it) quippy social posts, I feel like a queen of social media strategy.
But, when the money or the “audience” doesn’t grow to match all the effort, my spark and pride for all my work feels a touch dimmer.
As long as I don’t think about Capitalism, I love being a writer.
All it takes to be a writer, technically, is to write. Just like all it takes to be a skier is to ski and all it takes to be a complainer is to…complain (though complaining is definitely easier than writing and skiing).
It’s taken me three years, but I do feel like a writer. I embrace it and don’t wince at parties when someone asks me about the things I do and am (yogi, writer, Sagittarius, dog mom,…complainer).
I even have one envy of many writers under my belt - I’m traditionally published. I have written 14 children’s books about social-emotional learning that are beautiful and I am certainly proud of.
I’m also self-published (You can check out the guided journal here), which I’m almost more proud of because of the hard work it took to navigate how to create a barcode, buy an ISBN, get the finished product copyrighted, format the cover and interior, choose the type of paper and ink, and so many more bits and bobs that my brain has tossed straight out the window because of all the clutter.
I’m a writer and I know that, but there are times when I look at my expenses (a website, a P.O. Box, LLC and lawyer fees, saving up for a new laptop that doesn’t burn my fingertips when I hit the keys), and I feel like…not a real writer.
I still have a day job afterall, a day whole-career, actually. While I feel blessed when I break even on my business account thanks to freelance projects and journals I sell at local shops, I feel like a hamster on a wheel who has very little idea of where all the running will take her.
To try and make my writing side hustle my fuller-time hustle, I have bought courses, hired a coach, paid for instructional e-books and books I can hold in my hands, and listened to countless hours of podcasts on writing and publishing. I have gotten freelance clients on Upwork and I file my LLC paperwork exactly how my lawyer tells me to. I am a member of two different Zoom writing critique groups and another that I attend in-person, like a real-life professional lady.
I love living in this day and age where all the information about making my dreams a reality is at my fingertips and even, for the most part, feels possible. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t just a teensy bit annoyed at all the suggestions that if I were just “consistent” or “networked” a little harder or a little more, that I could be a writer.
As in, be a writer full-time as my main gig. That I could easily meld art and financial success. That I could “never work a day in my life” because I would be finally doing what I loved. And sure, there is some truth to this, no doubt. But the more I do and the less…viral the things that I create go, the more my hope takes a hit and my brain wants to bail.
I get stuck sometimes overanalyzing what I’m doing and how I’m doing it.
Is the title of my blog stupid or uninformative?
Should I change the “branding” colors I use and should I put more focus on curating the grid on my Instagram?
Is it because I write too much about my own life and it is self-indulgent or vain or simply…uninteresting?
Are my posts too long or too short? Are my metaphors too much or too specific?
Is everything the exact right and truest way for me, but the algorithm hates me because I don’t feed it enough in both quantity (endless) and quality?
I love what I do.
I want to, and plan to, keep doing it.
I understand that to make it as a writer on the interwebs these days takes a delicate balance of control in doing everything you can (or want to), and releasing all expectation of results to the universe and just do it how you want to be doing it.
But I’d also love to be honest as a creator that the hustle is a lot and that A+B does not always, or immediately, = C.
As long as I don’t think about capitalism, I truly, truly love being a writer.
Honestly Yours,
Emily Rose // Miss Magnolia
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