How I Refused to let the Corporate World Destroy my Creative Spirit

My first real job out of college was not unlike many held by recent college graduates, adorned with an abundant level of stress, low pay and long hours. Though we worked with young children, I was told shortly after accepting the job that a number of the other people who worked there drank on their lunch hour. It was a horrifying realization of course, for the obvious reason that these inebriated individuals had taken on the responsibility of caring for children and also, the more minor point that they obviously didn’t prefer to be doing something productive with their free time. Having recently completed an internship in NYC, my fondest memories of my prior position were the train rides and the hour I took for lunch, both of which I spent writing. I didn’t know much at 23 but I did know that I loved writing more than anything else in the world and that any time I got to spend doing it was sacred.

Stressful doesn’t even begin to describe that first job. I’ll avoid getting too into detail regarding the ins and outs but let’s just say that job was physically demanding, the exposure to germs was out of this world and the hours only got worse over time–a lot worse. It got to the point where I felt there was little time to do anything besides work and sleep and no matter how creative I was about it, writing time seemed to be slipping further and further through the cracks. Though the pay never seemed to increase, any time I might have tried to take for myself was taken by something else. All I wanted to do was write. And I wondered whether I would ever get to do it again.

Quitting that first job was one of the biggest turning points of my life. Though it wasn’t the lack of writing time that actually drove my decision to leave, it was all I could think about when I finally did and when freedom was once again at hand I took an entire year off from work to do nothing but write. Mastering the craft of novel writing is difficult enough when you’re first starting out but with severely limited time in which to learn the ropes the struggle can seem impossible. It was my hope that that first book would sell and that writing would become my paid profession. Though it certainly didn’t happen on that first try and I did ultimately decide to go back to work, I learned a great deal during that time I spent in my own head, completing my first manuscript. I wouldn’t trade that experience for anything.

Anxious to start making money again, I tried my luck with temping, which created an interesting opportunity. At least at first, since I wasn’t always working an assignment, I had extra time to write here and there and naturally, I made excellent use of that time. I met a variety of people, many of whom I told that I was a writer and I received a variety of feedback and opinion in reply. Many thought it was incredible, the fact that I was making the time to follow my dreams and do what I loved. Others were more realistic, or perhaps just plain cynical. I was told I’d never get a book published. I had a better chance of winning the lottery or getting hit by lightning.

Two years passed and though I’d learned enough from my time in the world of writing and publication to know that success happened in its own time, I needed to take that next step in the working world and get a full time job. I’d learned by this point in time to make the best use of lunch hour writing but not everyone shared my type-A systematic approach to life. In fact, some of my coworkers felt I was snubbing them by not joining them for lunch. Though I’d recently published my first novel and was excited about the next stage of my writing career, the stress at work was intensifying once again. It was difficult to focus on marketing and on writing the next book when my days were spent getting up at the crack of dawn, taking a ridiculously long commute in the morning, sitting in bumper to bumper traffic every evening and worrying that impending doom weighing against the house of cards that was my job could break at any moment. Though I managed to sell a few books to coworkers, I remember asking one if he was interested in buying a copy only to be met with a resounding “no” that felt like a slap in the face.

Leaving that job, I found myself in much the same position I had before–thankful to once again reclaim my writing time and more determined than ever to become a famous author. It wasn’t so much the “famous” part that I was after but as we all know, it’s very difficult to make a living as an author unless our books are selling at a healthy buy rate. I wanted that. I wanted the freedom to write as often as I wanted, as much as I wanted and answer to no one. But, faced with the obvious dilemma of once again having no real source of income, I dusted myself off and got another job.

I was determined, this time, to have a drama-free life, to do my work during the day, go home and write my books in peace. But the corporate world is hardly drama-free. Though my environment seemed a bit friendlier than that of my previous job, the stress built back up quickly and with it a whole new set of problems to boot. Lunch was 30 minutes, which meant writing during the day was pretty much a thing of the past. Some coworkers were envious of my status as a published author, which created an additional point of tension that made me regret I’d ever opened up about who I was and what I loved to do. And the hours got to be out of this world, leaving me so burned out and tired at the end of the day that when my head wasn’t reeling from drama I was sleeping out of pure exhaustion.

Needless to say this position went the way of the others. But though my life in the corporate world had left much to be desired thus far, I was becoming more aware of who I was and falling deeper and deeper in love with being a writer. By this point I had 3 published books and though I was certain I could make it to the top if I had all day to indulge in nothing but writing and marketing, I still had to work for a living. This time though, I was presented with yet another interesting opportunity, one so incredible in fact that I thought I must be dreaming. I’d stumbled upon a job with so little responsibility that I had more time to write than ever before.

This new job hardly suited my passions. In fact, it hardly suited me at all. But with an almost entirely stress-free life at my fingertips I got to work doing what I had always wanted to–producing high-quality books at the speed of a train. I had extra time for reading, too. I must have read a hundred books during those 3 years, typically reading as many as 3 books at a time. I finished the book I’d been struggling to find the time to complete during my previous position, wrote 2 more and began another which would go on to become what I consider to be one of the 2 best books I’ve written to date.

All good things must come to an end I suppose, particularly when they’re just too good to be true. And when my so-easy-a-child-could-have-done-it position faded into dust, I was left with yet another brief period of rebellion with me determined to become a full time writer at any cost, and soon after waking up to realize I needed a change. Though the decision was not an easy one, I was ready to take a bit of a risk when it came to getting what I wanted. I couldn’t take a complete risk–IE live on pocket change while waiting for my big break to come–so I decided to do the next best thing. I embarked on a career in sales, a career in which I could make my own hours and test the waters of earning a living strictly on my own success, just with a lesser risk than that which comes from peddling $2.99 ebooks and nothing else.

I’m still working to find the magic formula and to achieve that ultimate dream of being a full time writer. I admire writers who’ve managed to achieve that dream and to sustain it on any sort of ongoing level, particularly those indie published authors who’ve made it entirely on their own. In life, there are no guarantees, meaning that even the highest level of success does not ensure future success. It’s a scary world out there and I’ve seen a good bit of it. I’m happy to say that try as it might have, the corporate world has never destroyed my creative spirit. Though I’ve known my share of cynics, I pride myself on being an optimist and I would much rather envision the best case scenario than allow myself to get dragged down by statistics supposedly based on reality. I’m a dreamer through and through. After all, isn’t that what being a romance novelist is all about?