The perks of a day job
How work outside of writing can relieve pressures on our creativity
Last month, I started a new job. (For those curious, it’s a part-time graphic design position. I’m working about 20 hrs/wk.)
This is a big change for me.
Granted, “Author” hasn’t been my sole job in quite some time. When I first queried agents in 2011, I was working a day job as an Art Director at a small design agency. When I left that job in 2013, I enjoyed about one calendar year during which I wrote full-time. Then I became a mom.
Any writer parent out there knows how challenging it is to juggle parenting plus writing. (The same is true for parents in any field.) After all, parenting is a full-time job all on its own.
From 2014 until the fall of 2023, I managed to write three days a week (thanks, in-house nanny, and later on, pre-k!) and spent the other two days in mom-mode. Somewhere in the middle of this—I think it was late 2019/early 2020—I began taking on freelance design gigs. I created brands for clients and designed bookmarks and swag for authors. (And that’s on top of speaking gigs, teaching workshops, and writing this newsletter.) All this to say, I’ve been juggling multiple jobs for awhile now.
But this new job? This is the first time I’m not chasing leads and hunting down/coordinating the work myself. I simply show up (remotely), someone tells me what to do, and I do it.
That has been liberating so far. And to be perfectly blunt? Much like with my freelance gigs, I love performing work and immediately1 being compensated for my time/labor.
Writing is not a career you pursue if you want to get rich quick. It’s also not a career you pursue if you want to bring in a certain amount of money every month. Not even if that amount is modest. Why? Well, there’s just no guarantees.
This reality is acknowledged by almost every author I know, and I’ve seen plenty of writers speak about it via newsletters, social media, etc. I’ve done the same, as evidenced here and here and here.
But a related topic that I’m not sure we authors discuss enough is the ways in which our creative process can suffer when we need our art to pay our bills.
Basically, if you need your next manuscript to sell to a publisher so that you can bring in some money, the pressure you put on yourself to create becomes immense. And in my experience, this isn’t good for creativity. In fact, it’s pretty detrimental. I may as well summon a big, dark cloud and invite it to hang out over my head as I write.
When you need your book to make you money, it’s almost like you’ve handed your creativity over to someone wringing out laundry, except now they’re wringing out your creative ideas, twisting them tighter and tighter. A little voice may pop up in the back of your head, too, whispering really helpful2 things like: Better make sure this idea is a winner! Better write it faster! Better hope it sells. Oh, it didn’t? Where’s your next idea? You really need this one to sell, because you just spent months/years investing in the last project that didn’t and that’s a long time without pay. You need money more than ever now. Hurry up and write. But wait, are you sure that idea is commercial enough? Marketable enough? Are you sure it will land a book deal? Ohmygosh, why aren’t you writing, already?!
Who can possibly create under that sort of pressure?
I mean, plenty of us can. I’ve written (and played with) at least a dozen books in the past four years, all while those questions bounced around my head.
I guess what I’m saying is that creating in this scenario is far from ideal. It’s basically torture. (At least for me.) And let’s not even talk about the weird mind-bend that occurs in Publishing when you work so, so hard, but don’t land a book deal, therefore receiving no compensation for your labors.3 This outcome can warp your sense of worth (in terms of pay/compensation), and you can easily (and wrongly) start to equate lack of pay with lack of skill/talent.
Many, many authors work second jobs.
If a writer doesn’t have a partner who brings in a steady paycheck, a day job is often a necessity. (I was able to stay home with my kids and pursue writing as I did for so many years because of my spouse’s salary/healthcare/benefits.) And in many cases, even if the writer does have a partner, the writing simply isn’t bringing in enough cash to cover household expenses, so the writer seeks out a second job.
But outside of needing money to live,4 having a day job can relieve some of that external pressure to create faster and sell sooner. And a day job where you are compensated for your time/labor can do wonders for your confidence and self-worth!
Granted, a second job means less time for writing, but I’m not convinced that’s a bad thing. When I had my full day dedicated to writing (years and years ago, before I had kids or started doing freelance design work), I was almost too plugged in to the industry. I had too much time to over-think or obsess about publishing, book reviews, social media drama, preorder campaigns, sales numbers, the algorithm, etc, etc. (Maybe some people can navigate this well, but not me!)
When we have multiple responsibilities battling for our time, we are forced to prioritize the work of writing—of actively putting words on the page—and the noise falls aside because we simply don’t have time for it.
Of course, being busier doesn’t make things easier, it just makes you, well, busier. But from a creative perspective, if our brains aren’t spending every second thinking about Publishing, when it’s time to finally sit down and write the story, the story becomes the priority. Not twitter (We’re calling it X now aren’t we?) or threads or insta or tiktok or group chats or or or…
Plus, if we have some money coming in on the side via a second job, whether or not our manuscript goes on to sell to a publisher becomes less crucial. We want it to sell, of course. But our ability to pay our bills isn’t tied to that outcome. Our capacity to save for retirement isn’t tied to whether or not an editor connects with our story. Our budget doesn’t hinge on when we can get a book out on sub and how long it takes to find it a home.
Writing because we have to pay bills is a totally different experience than writing because we have a story we love and need to tell.
And look, don’t get be wrong: Writing is a job. I wholeheartedly believe writers deserve to be paid for their time, talents, and skill. And while we have to love the story first and foremost, that’s mostly because otherwise we’d lose our minds. The crux of the issue is that passion alone doesn’t pay bills, and ultimately, ‘worrying about money’ and ‘being creative’ don’t really jive. They are literally at odds.
So yes, lots of writers have second jobs because they need to pay bills. But I also know that my muse personally thrives best outside the cycle of create > sell > get paid.
If our art can pay us, it’s magical. If we can live off that money, even better. But if we need a day job, a side venture, a freelance gig—whatever you want to call it—to relieve some pressure on our creativity, there is no shame in that.
Juggling two jobs is never easy, and I won’t lie, I’m a little worried about how my new job will affect my writing output. I’m already struggling to squeeze it in, because once the kids are home from school, I am the coordinator of doc appointments and the chauffeur for sports and generally in “mom mode.” Come evening, my fuel tank is typically quite low.
But so far, I’m making it work. I’m writing in the early mornings, before the kids are up. I’m writing again at nights, once they go to bed. I’m squeezing it in, just as I used to when I was an aspiring author!
Above all, I’m hopeful that this day job will relieve some of the pressure that needing my art to earn me money had put on my creativity.
I intend to keep this newsletter going as I juggle more things, and so far, it’s been manageable. But if I discover that I no longer have the time for posts every other Tuesday, I will adjust the posting schedule. Substack also has a handy feature that allows writers to pause paid subscriptions, so if I ever get into a place where I need to majorly step back, I’ll initiate that pause. I don’t want (or expect) folks at the paying tier to keep paying if I’m not putting out content.
But for now, things carry on as usual.
Until next time,
Erin Bowman is the critically acclaimed author of numerous books for children and teens, including the Taken Trilogy, Vengeance Road, Retribution Rails, the Edgar Award-nominated Contagion duology, The Girl and the Witch’s Garden, and Dustborn. A web designer turned author, Erin has always been invested in telling stories—both visually and with words. Erin lives in New Hampshire with her husband and children.
Routinely, via paycheck schedules. As opposed to… advance and royalty pay schedules.
And by this, I mean unhelpful
I am not saying that an author is entitled to have every book they write picked up by a trad publisher. Definitely not. I’m simply saying that writing is our job, so if we treat it like a job—if we show up and consistently do the work—but then it doesn’t result in a paycheck… well, that can start to feel very strange.
If only we could all be independently wealthy...
I hope this part-time job continues to be a great situation for you, Erin.
Yes to this! When I'm in good writing mode, I've found that I tend to get roughly the same output whether I've been able to write full time or had a job. I've found other things impact output a lot more than day job.
And this all reminds me very much of Big Magic, and the part where Elisabeth Gilbert talks about how we should tend to our creativity and work to support IT, rather than demanding it support us.