In less than two weeks, I’m debuting a new website. I didn’t want to throw away my old one because I love it. I had it professionally designed a few years ago using some money from an advance and considered it a “treat myself” move. I know authors don’t need a fancy site–not that mine was particularly fancy–but it is nice to have a pretty page to land on. The problem with my particular site is that it’s a coded design, so I can’t update it myself. I could change text and basic photos, but some functions are buried behind the scenes and beyond my ken. Adding a new page for a new book; a nightmare.
So I’m moving back to Wix, my preferred DYI site. I’m not paid to say this, but it is the simplest and quickest way to produce a good looking website without a huge learning curve. Nothing mind-blowing, but functional and clean. I wanted to be able to add new pages, particularly a gallery of photos, and a shop to sell my books. Now that I’m going down this road of self-publishing, it seemed like a good time to also incorporate a new logo, design, and personal mission. The logo? My new press Wandering Moth. The mission? To take art into my own hands. At least from time to time. I have no intentions on giving up the traditional side of things, and only embracing the myriad of options creators now have. But I do nothing haphazardly. Except maybe making my bed. If I make it.
Since I’m hardly employed right now I’ve had a lot of time to create. It is a blessing and a curse to not have full time work. Well, to be honest, it’s mostly wonderful minus the lack of medical benefits or ability to get our own place for a while. It is the most productive I’ve been in a very long time. The last time I worked on so many projects I was also unemployed. I wrote The Dare Sisters during that time and landed a great 2-book deal. Sadly that book came out at peak pandemic so it didn’t really pay off, but I don’t regret it. Just one of those many, many things that happen out of your control. I just keep writing and I fall in love with every project as I go. I’m not the type to get hung up on something. At least not to the extent of being unable to move forward. I will definitely return to a project if I have a new goal for it, such as with Monolith, the middle grade soft-sci-fi I’m publishing under Wandering Moth Press.
More about Wandering Moth when my website debuts…
At the same time, I’m applying to “real” jobs now. Again. Unfortunately my teaching position will end in December. I’d hoped to be offered a bunch more creative writing classes for the spring but they just don’t have any. Well, they had one, but I turned it down for a couple reasons:
A: Because it’s a topic I know nothing about and would have to do a ridiculous amount of prep to learn it in order to teach it.
B: Because you don’t get paid enough to teach a single class, let alone do all the prep for that single class to be worth a job. It is the sad fact of adjuncting. We are completely taken advantage of.
I only applied and accepted this job because I really hoped for a quick upgrade in my position. A full time creative writing teaching position would be a dream. But even after SIX years of teaching that’s not the case, so I believe this will be the true end of teaching for me–at least undergrad. I still love being part of the UNR MFA program and conferences and such. Workshops and conferences are a very different beast, and actually pay way better than adjuncting when you’re measuring time vs. money. HOW RIDICULOUS IS THAT.
I’m looking at everything from creating content to office work to grocery stores, but not the post office. (If you followed my post office saga, I am STILL getting mail from them. Also: When Wegmans offers a better employee package than the university, you can’t help but question your choices.) When I think about a traditional 40 hour week, however, it hurts my soul. I know I sound like a princess saying that, but I don’t think I’m alone in feeling that way. The schedule we are trained to as Americans is not a one-size-fits all lifestyle. It’s not work I’m opposed to, it's simply the idea of doing someone else’s work instead of my own, being tightly held to someone else’s passion or capitalist endeavor. I’ve fought for a long time to be able to do the things I love and went to school for. It’s rather depressing to have to consider being a receptionist for a dental office.
When I’m not scrolling Indeed and LinkedIn, I’m having fun learning how to self-publish well. Between my logo and book designer, and other friends who have either self-published or run their own press, I’ve gotten great insight and tips. It’s very much in my advantage that I know exactly what the industry expects in a book, as well, so I’m able to mirror a product fairly close to what a big publisher would make. I’m finding the independent author community to be nearly as supportive as the kid-lit community and that’s refreshing. Next weekend I’m virtually attending Self-Pub Con 23, which is associated with ALLi, (Alliance for Independent Authors), and is free for a few days. Not going to lie: there’s a tiny blip of a thought of What if I started publishing other children’s writers under WMP? Who knows where the blip will go…
I’ve also been (slowly) co-writing another middle grade book with a friend. This one is an Italian magic eco book. It’s the first time I’ve ever tried to co-write and it’s way more fun than I expected it to be. The story has so many wonderful elements to it and tapping into my own Italian heritage has been such a fun exploration. The biggest challenge is just getting this initial draft of bones down, knowing which one of us needs to write a particular scene, and making sure we raise the stakes continually. Same as writing solo, really. The only thing I wish could be different is that we lived closer together so we could actually sit down together to organize and brainstorm. All-in-all, it’s another brand new way to create that I’m happy to have opened up to.
That is, perhaps, my theme for 2023. Embracing new ideas.
At least new ideas that don’t involve the dental office.
Thank you so much for sharing our Parisian Phoenix web site and recommending our Substack. I know you and I speak in person, and have history dating back to the Nineties, but I think it's important to remind readers, writers and other authors that this industry at this point in time is hard. Your struggle to find a way to make a living that allows you to afford say... groceries and life-saving medical treatment is a testament to that. But also, as creative thinkers, as creators, we need to recognize that the arts-- whether fine arts, music, writing, mixed media, whatever-- can benefit if we all embrace one another as community, not just for events or workshops or networking or craft groups, but for sharing newsletters, reading and promoting each other's work, and collaborating in unique and new ways. That's a long winded way to say THANK YOU and I wish you all the good vibes and future success!