Business / Plans

It's me, hi

I paused paid subscriptions for this newsletter. Weirdly (to me), Substack doesn’t alert you, the subscribers, to this fact, so I am writing today mainly for business reasons. But also, hi! Thanks for being here. I keep meaning to be here, writing to you more often, but reliably I never am. It seems insane to receive your hard-earned money and be caught in a constant state of low-key guilt, so f*ck the money — let’s keep this fun and easy.

I’m no longer overwhelmed or resentful of all the responsibilities I have — after all I chose to be someone’s partner, a couple of people’s parent, friend, an author, a board member, etc. All this effort feels right, mostly peaceful, proportionate to the speed and scope of my life. I am at the point in my life and sobriety where serenity feels present, or at least nearby, and what that means for me is seeing myself and my life with clarity, grounded in reality.

I will never be the kind of person who writes a weekly newsletter, or even a monthly one. I would rather paint my NBA players, listen to “books on tape” (I am 20 years behind this publishing industry development and regularly use the term that gives this fact away), and take naps. So I am sticking to what I know.

Here I am, not writing.

People write these newsletters as a way of earning money, as paid work. I love

Alicia Kennedy

’s newsletter and have long appreciated how transparent she is about just how much work and planning goes into publishing a successful, regular newsletter with great thinking and writing that also includes interviews, recipes, recommendations, and a monthy book discussion. When I started this newsletter, I didn’t have much of a plan, which was inline with my general approach to my career at the time. How could I know what I didn’t know? What I would like, what habits I might build, what responsibility I wanted to take on.

A writing career doesn’t look any one way. I mean, I quit writing for a while and spent years thinking — quite clearly and realistically! — that I couldn’t support myself and my family on a freelance income, on an alt-weekly staff writer salary, or on the income of an author of one published book. If I wasn’t married to Will and hadn’t depended on his salary for over a decade, I probably wouldn’t be a writer as I am now. (Structurally, hetero marriage remains a trap — luckily it is one I chose and, personally, it makes me freer, go figure.)

The success of Essential Labor made it so that in 2023, for the first time in my life, I made a living wage (yes, I calculated it). And it’s not because of book sales (how I wish) — my income (not that you asked) has come from, ahem, diversifying my revenue stream: book advance payments, book royalties, freelance writing, and — and this is the big one — speaking engagements. (Shoutout to my speaking agent Kip and my event coordinator Nora at CAA, neither of whom I have met in person, but who negotiate nice speaking fees and wrangle me nice hotel stays.) Along with the well-paying speaking engagements in different parts of the country, I like to do smaller, local ones as well, especially when an organization’s vision aligns with my values.

I didn’t get into writing so I could give speeches, but it turns out I’m good at it and I like it. That’s the thing — how could I ever have known what I didn’t know? How could I possibly have discovered this was possible except by doing it? Compared to the hours and hours it takes to write, speaking is kind of a cushy gig? I basically have a well-researched 30-minute speech (thanks, book writing) that I can lengthen or shorten depending on what someone wants, and adjust the tone depending on who the audience is. It’s so not stressful I almost can’t believe they pay me to do it (and at such a high per-hour wage compared to the slow hell of writing!)

I suspect the number of speaking engagements I do will go down this year. The corporatization of DEI has been very beneficial for me and many people I know, but as organizations and companies seem to lose interest, the opportunities are less. But it’s okay because that’s just how it goes. And for once I sort of have a plan?

I’ve made an effort to pick up some teaching gigs, and to take some writing workshops to see how others do it, what works and what I’d maybe do differently. It’s one way many writers make money, but I’ve always stayed away from it, in part because I’ve thought if I consciously knew how to craft good writing, then I’d be busy doing that not sitting on my ass quietly freaking out all the time, worrying that what I’m writing has no literary merit and doesn’t make any sense.

Part of my reluctance to teach is that it seems to require tremendous amounts of care energy, which I have not had in spare supply. But now that the girls are older, I find I have even more care energy to direct outside of the home and my close circle, and teaching seems like a good place to put it. We’ll see.

I have more to say but Will just called to say he tore up his face mountain biking and I need to see if we have bandages and the appropriate supplies to deal with our latest medical incident. More soon?

More…when I get to it! xx