Paid to Write
it's every writers dream, isn't it?
Here's where my mind was at when I sat down to write this newsletter in the late evening after putting the kids to bed.
Why am I writing? Why the struggle? Am I doing this to prove that I can? Is it a mission from God? Why am I driven to sacrifice sleep? For what? Is it for the sake of practice? Of fulfilling my commitments? Of hopes of being successful and make money one day for writing?
I have a long-lasting struggle with my day job. I want to write out the ideas in my heart - the articles, YouTube scripts, sci-fi fantasy screenplays, progressive rock concept albums - but instead, I have this day job that's sucking the time I need to get it done. If only I could get it out of the way... Then, I would get paid to write.
That's the thought in my head. But, then, I had a "re-framing" moment. What constitutes the majority of my day job? - writing. I write narratives for grant proposals, fundraising speeches, memos of celebration, even letters of termination. I am paid a salary, and the majority of my deliverables are written. Doesn't that make me a paid writer?
So often, we strive for lofty aspirations and visions of vainglory that we lose site of the substance before us.
My boss pays me to write. One day, my endearing readership might pay for my stories or books or concept records. Either way, I AM a paid writer.
On top of that, my boss takes the time to edit my writing. Usually, writers pay top dollar for honest critique. But it's the other way around. My boss pays me to make my writing better. What a deal!
If being paid isn't the goal, than what is? Perhaps I have a stronger value for independence and flexibility. More on that another time.
Are you in this position? Take a moment to consider your art/hobby project. How many of the skills associated with your art overlap with your job? How could you re-frame your job responsibilities in a way that strengthen your craft? This could very well be the training season that prepares you for when your hobby goes full time.
Until the next one,
Derek J Fiedler
