Stars and Junk Jobs

Here's what I bought myself as a finished-my-second-manuscript present:




It's a little flashier than my heart, but what the heck. I'm a star, right?

One of the Yahoo loops I'm on carried an illuminating discussion lately. It was about the eternal writers' question: When, and if, to quit your day job. This is always a hot button issue, mostly because everyone's situation is so different, and most of us are quite sure that everyone else has it better than we do (almost every writer, for example, secretly thinks that Diana Peterfreund's life is way better than our own. On that one, we're likely right.)

One person's advice was to get a "junk job" in order to preserve your mental energies for writing - and possibly, if the job is junky in just the right way, actually write on the job. If you're a receptionist or a security guard or something, who cares what you do while you're sitting there?

By coincidence I've just taken the opposite tactic, myself. I've just found myself a better job that will further my non-writing career. Why, when I ultimately want to be a writer?

I'm not really sure how to answer that. I'm only thirty-three and I'm not ready to leave the workforce yet - that's part of it. I need to build my skills to keep me afloat while I try for a writing career - that's another part. But mostly it has to do with valuing my time and wanting to do something challenging and interesting for eight hours a day. I've answered phones and shipped packages, and it isn't all it's cracked up to be. Junk jobs, in fact - besides the non-livable pay - really, really suck. I'd rather be doing something that rounds out my experience, puts me on the ground with fascinating people, and, well, makes me think. About something other than writing.

I may have to fight for every spare minute spent writing, but oh well. What are you gonna do? Stop writing? Unthinkable. It isn't a question of working or writing. If you want to, you can do both. And if you're lucky, your job will make you a better writer in the long run.