I don’t want another job
When I speak at events, I often talk about the difficulty of working on book 2 (Gaslit) because it was the first time writing became work. I had a commitment, and I had to fulfill it. Many authors only want to work this way; they do not want to write for free so their goal is to sell on proposal (an outline and fifty page sample, usually), and then write once the offer is in hand.
I, however, don’t want this. Financially, it makes the most sense, particularly since “time is money” and there’s no guarantee I will get another contract. However, I am still very content with my teaching job, and one of the reasons is its stability.
I love having a full-time job that pays me a regular salary and gives me a dependable schedule. For my personality type and family situation, I do not want to depend on the unreliability of publishing for my bills.
Case in point, it’s customary to receive at least some of a payment upon signature of a contract. If it’s a contract for a lot of money, it’s probably 25% (or less!) of the total, but if it’s a small deal, it could be half. If it’s for a finished product (like a foreign rights deal), it could be all. Regardless, an offer on a book=a contract=$$$.
But for the third book I’ve been working on, the one whose offer I accepted in November of 2025, the one on its third round of revisions…yeah, that one…still no contract and no known date of when it will arrive. And for those following along at home, BINGO! That means still no money. Anyone in publishing will not be surprised by this, but those outside of publishing are probably like, “How can you make a financial plan and pay bills with a schedule like that?!?”
Precisely why I enjoy the day job.
Additionally, it’s comforting when I’m in a period of limbo. Like right now. My third book is wrapping up, and I have a whole month of summer, so I want to write a fourth.
The problem is I don’t have an idea that’s fully grabbing me by the throat and begging to be written. I’m wallowing in “Should I spend time brainstorming? Should I draft the vague idea I have and see what happens? Should I ask friends and my agent for help?” I can’t imagine the pressure that would be added if I needed the book to survive.
There’s something freeing about maybe keeping this idea a secret and presenting it, fully written, to my agent and seeing what happens next. There’s freedom in the permission to explore writing just because I want to, instead of because I have to. I want to get back to the craft of writing, of challenging myself to see what I can learn and being satisfied with that progress even if it doesn’t result in a paycheck.
To that end, I fight daily with social media. The thing is, I’m decent at it. I go viral regularly (not weekly, but usually at least once a month). It’s rarely what I expect to take off, but fun when it does. Since I recently hit 10k followers on TikTok, I’ve started making money. Off one video in May, I made a little over $400. Then I did one in June that has earned over $2,000. Since then, my brain has been bugging me: Maybe you should try to post and earn money on Facebook too. Make another one minute video and post it on TikTok—go viral again. Get more money. Post more on TikTok. Find your niche and be consistent to develop a following and increase the viral odds. Then you can make more money! Money money money!
Whenever these thoughts whisper, I commit to not posting. I can’t lie—it’s fun making that much money from one video, especially since it’s more than I make as a bonus for teaching three dual credit classes for an entire school year! But I DON’T WANT ANOTHER JOB. I don’t want to be an influencer. I just want to post when it’s fun.
And right now I’m feeling the same way about writing.
This third book has been an absolute breath of fresh air. Yes, I’ve been under contract with tight deadlines, but I’ve also had a lot of fun, and my new editor is so encouraging and inspiring! I want to nurture this feeling. I want to dream and explore and wonder.
I want to write.
But I don’t want another job.
