Hey you bum! Get a job!

I write full time. I have a minor part time job that literally only takes 4-8 hours of my life per week right now. I have three cats, but no children. I have a supportive husband. It was one of the hardest, but most gratifying, decisions I had ever made. So many people in this culture are judged based on what they do for a living. Successful writers are fine, but the struggling writers? Well, those bums should get a job!

This January, I took a three week trip to Italy with a small group from my school. It was an amazing journey that really changed me on a fundamental level, for many reasons. But while I was there, I paid nearly five American dollars to check my email for fifteen minutes every day. One of the emails I received was from Liquid Silver Books. They accepted my first novel, “New Frontier.”

I was a published author.

My first act as a published author was to go to the Keats-Shelley museum and read all of their letters that were displayed, before watching the sunset at the Spanish Steps. I was high on my own success. My first novel. And I was sitting on The Spanish Steps! Life couldn’t get sweeter than that moment.

When I returned home at the end of January, I began my last semester in college. Somewhere around the middle of February, I hit the ground. Hard. It occurred to me that I was graduating in five months and I had no goals, no plans, no prospects. Nothing. I had assumed that stuff would come to me while I was in school, and now time was almost out. To make matters worse, I had been rejected from all but one graduate school. I suppose I could have moved out to Palm Desert…but…well…I didn’t really want to live in Palm Desert. It’s hot, for one thing.

I started looking for jobs, and realized in the current economy, even with my degree, I was under qualified for many, many things.And over qualified for everything else.

My depression and fear deepened. I stopped writing. I stopped sleeping. May loomed like a monster in an old fairy tale. Meanwhile, I’m getting New Frontier ready for publication. Editing, approving the cover art, writing the blurb, etc etc. It was the small bright spot in an otherwise bleak spring.

Then my professor took me to lunch one day. I did a lot of work for him—proofreading his manuscripts, helping him with complicated formatting, or just listening to him talk about his favorite subjects (himself and Shakespeare in that order). I told him what I was experiencing He said. “Look, do you want to write?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “Does it have to be an MFA program? Aren’t you capable of writing by yourself?” I said, “I am.” He said, “You know, this decision isn’t that big of a deal. You’re not the President. What you do isn’t going to affect the whole country…” I said, “I know, but it’ll affect my husband.” He said, “Ok, what does your husband say?”

So, I asked my husband, Jaime. Jaime said, “I don’t want you to go to the working world yet if you can help it. I know what it’s like. I know what it did to me. I don’t want you to experience that yet. You should write.” See, Jaime never doubted that if I had the opportunity to devote myself to writing full time, that I would succeed. As far as he’s concerned, it’s just a matter of time. It wasn’t a risk at all.

I decided that I would take a year off to devote myself to writing. I got a job with a private tutoring firm that promised enough hours per month to pay a few bills, but more or less, I would have all day every day to write. Which in and of itself is a daunting task.

I’m applying to graduate schools again this month. Hopefully, my life will get back on the track I planned for, but I don’t regret this year-long diversion. Since “New Frontier” came out in May, I have sold another full length novel, “The Zebra Wore Fishnets” and a novella, “Passenger Side” (coming out next month in the Naughty and Nice Anthology!). I also have four sales to other publishers, and I am waiting to hear on about six more submissions!

Still, I push myself every day to write at least five thousand words, if not more. I usually don’t feel like a real author. I worry that people are judging me because I don’t have a “real job,” because my husband works long days, because we have to make so many sacrifices and live on a tight budget. Because rejections are hard and demoralizing…

If I don’t get into the graduate schools I want this time around, will I continue writing full time or seek full time employment? I imagine it depends on how the rest of this year plays out. I have until August to launch my writing career. Right now, I love doing it, but I’m not making any sort of living off it. I’ll get back to you a year from now and let you know if things have changed.

But ultimately, I am happy. I love writing. I love my characters and their stories and their worlds. It’s an honor to act as a conduit, to channel their words, to bring them to life. I could have chosen a different path this year, and I would have a bigger bank account to show for my efforts! But I never would have had the gratification of an acceptance letter, I never would have met some of my favorite people (the characters of “The Zebra Wore Fishnets” seem especially real to me).

I know for a fact that people with full time jobs and children write and publish all the time. I don’t mean to imply that it’s impossible or unlikely. In fact, I tip my hat to them, because they can do something I know I can’t. And oft times, do it better.

So that was my first blog post. I hope you enjoyed it :)