Oh, Protestant Work Ethic, We're Really In It Now
When I was in elementary school, I had it made. I would steal bars of soap from home, carve them into crude animal shapes, and sell them to my schoolmates for a dime a piece. Incredible margins. Elite business acumen.
I had other schemes. “Tattoos” aka drawing on kids with a ballpoint pen. Portraits during recess. Tarot readings. All for pay. When I was finally brought into the principal’s office, I offered to give him a cut.
See, I was raised in a weird WASP stew. That Protestant work ethic saying rest must be earned, idle hands are the Devil’s plaything, and you must always monetize your hobbies. Is there an activity that gives you any amount of passing joy? Better make money off it, you punk. Gotta minmax your time on earth. Have to make sure you have the best speedrun of human life.
Of course, this has bled into my writing. What’s the point of getting good at something if you’re not looking to make money from it? Surely I am a temporarily embarrassed bestseller and not someone looking to supplement my life with artistic expression. And making some money off my writing has made this worse. Getting paid for fiction means I am Good at artistic expression, and I must now hitch a ride on that conveyor belt to all-star success. I see this expectation of myself in people I talk to and in my own reflection. The unspoken suggestions, the pre-congratulations. Everyone’s waiting for their bet to pay off.
Well, I’ve been working on a novella for years. I conceived of it in 2020, fleshed it out in 2021, drafted it in 2022, and I’m still revising it currently. It’s a good story. It’s dark and weird, and it’s definitely stretching my skills. There will be readers who absolutely love it.
Funny thing, though. Whenever I start working on this novella for any stretch of time, my body starts to rebel. My anxiety levels rise. My skin gets bad. I have sleeping issues. I get irritable. It’s like my entire body is saying, “No no no! This is taking too long! The ROI is fucked. You could have written six short stories in this amount of time. Instead you’re pouring months and years into a project that may go nowhere. This isn’t productive at all.”
It’s like I’m sinking into a bog. What if people hate it? And then they hate me? What if editors hate it? Then no publisher buys it? Because when I say the novella might be Bad, what I’m really saying is it might be unsellable. All this wasted time into something that won’t even make me any money. After all, that’s what hobbies are all about.
I’m telling you this because it’s a personal demon I’m trying to slay. I’m going to keep working on this novella, even if I have to do it in starts and stops. I want to finish it. I think it’s worth finishing. And that means there will be a chunk of time where I’m not writing or trying to sell short stories. And I will look and feel like a failure. But I’m giving myself permission to be a failure. Because I’m allowed to make art that doesn’t sell. I’m allowed to have interests that don’t make money. I’m allowed to let everyone down.
So, let’s talk about this newsletter. Moving off Substack is good for my conscience, but bad for my wallet. I now have to consider hosting costs through Buttondown. But I never want to think about making paid subscriber content that is worth people’s money. I don't want to monetize this! All I ever wanted was to email some internet friends.
I have a custom setup with Buttondown where any money you pay to this newsletter goes directly into hosting it. I don’t touch the money at all. It’s not even my bank account. And I'm not doing traditional recurring subscriptions, because I don't want to worry about subscribers expecting Content. We are just doing one-time, pay-what-you-want "Upgrades" because that's what works easiest within Buttondown's current system.
My current hosting costs are $108/year, but we are quickly coming up to $348/year. So any amount that you can put towards these infrequent screeds is most appreciated. The direct payment link is here for name-your-price non-recurring transactions.
Thank you for helping me make art. I’m going to fail super hard.
Writing news
I had fully intended this section to just say, “wading through the novella bog” but then actual news happened.
“Where the God-Knives Tread” is on the BSFA awards longlist! That means a member of the BSFA (British Science Fiction Association) thought it was good enough to be considered for the shortlist (aka final ballot). This is such an unexpected delight. Thank you to everyone who has read and shared this novelette.
Speaking of reading and sharing…“Where the God-Knives Tread” also received a lovely review in Locus! It’s so cool to see my work called out in an industry publication. I even ventured out and bought a print copy. I know it’s a small thing, but it’s also something I will treasure in the future.
Last but not least…“Where the God-Knives Tread” is on the 2023 Locus Recommended Reading List! This is a prestigious list compiled by reviewers and anthologists, and I’m listed alongside some stunning work. Plus, this means I’m automatically added to the Locus Awards ballot, which anyone can vote on.
Okay, now I’m going to go wade into the novella bog.
Cool Shit
Friends, I’ll be honest, I’m not having a very groovy 2024. My media consumption currently rests on binging New Girl reruns and 15 year old AMVs on YouTube. So these suggestions center around self-care:
Dear Americans, Covid abounds whether you like it or not. But test2treat is a telehealth service fully-backed by government grants that will diagnose and prescribe treatment (ie Paxlovid) to you for free. With or without insurance.
This beginner Tai Chi form has been really good for short-circuiting anxiety and stretching sore muscles.
I really enjoyed James Acaster’s Cold Lasagne Hate Myself 1999. You do have to buy it, but it’s 2 hours of comedy gold. The second half is particularly good.