I’ve spent the past 3 years writing, publishing, and promoting books trying to earn a living. Its earning, but its far from what most would call “a living”.
Ive shifted gears a bit, because life has shifted, and while I still fully intend to keep writing, publishing, and promoting books, I also need to earn a living. Right now, that means bringing in a minimum of $500 a week to keep a roof over my head right now, and save up to be able to move into a more stable (read, paid monthly instead of weekly) situation.
I’m making it. I made the 1600 mile move across the country and have not yet had to spend a single night in a homeless shelter or on the street. Its mostly been because I’ve worked my ass off to drum up some work, but also in big part to people being willing to save my ass and send me what they could. Its kept me afloat and I’m forever grateful.
It’s still a struggle, I worry about where things are going to come from on the daily. I’ve learned its the same on both sides of the fence.
Being in my new home state, I’ve met a few people now, and I’m seeing that the struggle isn’t mine alone. Good, helpful, kind, and hard working people just can’t catch a break working a job that pays the same every week.
On the flip side, trying to make it work being self-employed with pay that fluctuates from week to week, isn’t that much better. We are hanging out here together.
We keep going though. We keep trying, working our asses off to just get us through one more day. Then another, catch a break and breathe for a week, then back to day to day worrying.
While I would be less stressed out struggling less, it pushes me to step up and make that post, ask that person, start that conversation, and take on that new client with no idea how I’m going to pull it all off. I just have to do it.
I love what I do. I love being a writer. I love helping others be the best writer they can be. This is what I do and wouldnt have it any other way.
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