The Money-Time Paradox

Something I have been thinking about a lot, especially since I recently had to drop a lot of money on my medicine and getting my car fixed, is how creatives get stuck in day jobs and are unable to make enough to let them go or even shift down into part-time work or less mentally strenuous work due to the world we live in, especially in the US.

These past two years I have probably made more off my books than the previous four years combined, but it isn’t enough to live off. On paper it may look like a decent amount, but once you take 30% out for taxes, it certainly isn’t a living wage. Part of me would like to spend less time teaching and more time writing, but it isn’t feasible. I will say that I do greatly enjoy my job. I love my students, and I don’t think I would want to fully stop teaching, especially creative writing. The thing is that I wish I could say no when I didn’t feel like it. I wish I didn’t have to teach the summer bootcamp class, but it’s easy money for 2.5 weeks of nonstop grading. Even though it is a skilled job that requires a masters or more, the pay is trash (that is the system’s fault, not my department’s by the way). When I’ve told my students how much I make for 15 weeks of work, they all looked appalled, but I keep teaching because it allows me enough time for my brain to reset between workdays, so I can write. If I had a more traditional 9-5, especially one where I was at an office with other people, I don’t think I would write at all. Being around other people all day is hard when you’re autistic. Every second of the day is performative and tense. By the time I would get home, there would be nothing left. When I worked at an office for one day a week, I felt my brain shrivel up by the end of the day to the point that I did nothing when I got home and that often continued into the next day. The job wasn’t even strenuous; it was all the people-ing I had to do and the sensory overload that sucked the life out of me. Bright computer screens without dimmers, fluorescent lights, and constant chatter tax my system.

What I would like to be able to do one day is live off my writing and/or make things to sell as well. None of this will probably happen until my partner has a better job. I hate the idea that I might need to rely on him monetarily because I worry that would put unnecessary pressure on him. The things that hold me back from making the leap are all tied to problems our society could easily fix. I worry about paying for my medication because it’s expensive, and while I have a discount card, it does eventually run out and my out-of-pocket cost limit isn’t insubstantial. Universal healthcare would eliminate that fear of not having enough money to pay for my meds (or my partner’s). Universal basic income would go a long way to lessening the burden placed on those who struggle to work full-time. My teaching job(s) are considered part-time or contract work. If they no longer need me, I can’t get unemployment. These low paying but very necessary jobs could keep their better employees if they either paid more or the government supplemented everyone under a certain wage bracket with UBI. It could easily lift people out of poverty or tide those artists or seasonal workers over during the lean months. It’s tough enough being a creative or starting a new business, but it doesn’t need to be nearly as hard as our country makes it.

I refuse to buy into the whole hustle culture idea of writing to market or chasing trends or upping my productivity by fifty percent. There are definitely some things I could do to potentially write more, like actually prioritizing writing over other random tasks I have to do or watching a video on YouTube, but at the same time, I don’t want to suck the fun and leisure time out of my life to reach some arbitrary writing or income goal because in the past that has led to burn-out. This is what I mean when I talk about creatives being stuck in the money-time paradox. Despite what the girl-bosses and hustlers say, we have a finite amount of resources, whether it be money, time, mental fortitude, physical energy, or creative juices, and at some point, the well runs dry. If you’re not careful, you can cause irreparable harm and erase any progress or momentum you already have.

So, Kara, if you won’t do the hustle thing or quit your job, how do you plan to write more? I have no clue. My schedule this semester has been a little weird due to when my classes fall, but next semester, that’s back to normal, which will make it easier to write. November will be a bit difficult for me, as it always is, due to the time change, darkness, and influx of student papers, but by December, I’m hoping to get a solid routine down and try to find the sweet spot again for when I’m most productive. That has gotten lost in the sauce this semester with the new schedule. Next year, if I could write two novels, I’d be really happy, but honestly, I doubt that’s going to happen unless I absolutely fry myself. Still, I cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe I’ll get that safety net I’ve been longing for.