I Still Loathe The Concept of "Careers"
So I used to have a rant that I spouted off sometimes, about how much I hate the idea of having a "career."
Back in the day, I was lucky enough to have a day job that didn't eat my brain or wreck my nerves, so I could spend a lot of free time making art and being a flagrant weirdo. I became pretty dedicated to the notion of screwing around as a way of life — which, to be clear, was only possible because of the aforementioned day job.
My rant about careers went like this:
The whole notion of a career implies a chain of events, a causal link. In theory, you ought to be able to look back and say, "I did this job which went led to this job which led to this job, and along the way I developed a set of skills that make me valuable." In other words, having a career requires all of your decisions to make sense in terms of a logical progression. And if you want to change things up, you need to start a whole new career — which is regarded as kind of a big step.
Instead, my governing principle was that I would do anything that seemed like it would be fun and creatively fulfilling, and where I liked the people I was gonna be collaborating with. As far as potential employers were concerned, I had a resume that showed I'd been at my day job for a certain number of years. But as far as I was concerned, my real work was organizing weird performance, art events, hosting spoken word things, writing gonzo fiction and non-fiction on whatever topic seemed interesting, contributing to fancy literary journals, doing lots of erotica, writing about the trans community, and of course making up the weirdest and silliest science fiction stories I could.
I was super proud when, in 2007-ish, I had stories in both Best Lesbian Erotica and one of Rich Horton's Year's Best Science Fiction & Fantasy anthologies.
So what changed? Well, first of all, I had the luckiest break of my entire life and got hired to write about science fiction for a living — which meant that my day job was suddenly a lot more to do with the stuff I had been doing on the side, and the wall I'd built between them started to crumble. And eventually, I quit that job and started doing creative projects full time, which is where I still am now. In other words, my ability to pay my rent suddenly depended on people having a clear sense of what I do as a creative person and what I'm liable to do going forward. But also? I got a bit older, and started to have a little bit more anxiety about issues like whether I'd always be able to find a fairly chill day job that would keep my cat in kibble.
But deep down, I still hate that notion of careers, with all of the conservatism that implies. The notion that it's better to stay on your path and move forward at a graceful pace, instead of jumping around and doing whatever seems cool at the time. It's like that notion that creative people should have a "brand," meaning a thing that you are known for doing.
My favorite creators have always been chameleons, reinventing themselves and sweeping you away with their latest off-kilter brainwave. Part of me just wants to make it harder and harder for anybody to sum up quickly who I am and what I do, which I know is a nightmare for marketing purposes.
In fact, the best argument against doing something unexpected, and out of your own "wheelhouse," is also the best argument in favor. Chances are, if you do something nobody expects from you, people might not even notice. Your radical weird new direction might just slide under the radar, because it doesn't fit neatly into the story people tell about you. That makes the risk of trying something new much lower, because if you faceplant, the world probably won't know it happened. Sure, you'll have poured a lot of energy into something that didn't turn you into a bigger star, but hopefully you had fun and learned something and got to work with people you enjoy working with.
Literally everybody I know is burned out — myself included! — and I'm working on an essay about that. But for now, let me just say that all of this talk about burnout has made me want to renew my commitment to turning my so-called career into a confusing mess. Anything I can do to have fun, and be less overly focused on how this is going to help me commodify myself, seems like a good way to keep the party going.
Again, this is all coming from a place of privilege, because not everybody gets the luxury of a chill day job that I had for so long. But I think artists should try to find their own ways to be irresponsible and unpredictable, and not stick to one path, however they can. I dunno, what do you think?
Music I Love Right Now
If I believe one thing, it's that Charles Wright & the Watts 103rd St. Rhythm Band had one of the greatest rhythm sections of all time. Al McKay went on to be the rhythm guitarist who powered so many great Earth Wind & Fire songs. Bassist Melvin Dunlap and drummer James Gadson went on to play with Bill Withers, and Gadson became a drumming MVP. I met Charles Wright at a book festival a few years back and got an autographed copy of his memoir, and I got to tell him how much I love his music. Anyway, I recently got a copy of the 2-CD set, Live at the Haunted House, featuring the original lineup of the Watts 103rd St. Rhythm Band absolutely crushing it. There's a nearly eleven minute version of James Brown's "Papa's Got a Brand New Bag" that rocks so hard. The band covers a ton of 1960s soul classics by folks like Otis Redding, the Supremes, Dyke & the Blazers, and others, but there are also a few originals. This is one of the greatest bands ever at the peak of their powers.
I Need Y'all's Help
I don't charge any money for this newsletter, but if you feel moved to buy some of my stuff, I would be ridic grateful. In particular, pre-ordering is a godlike act that makes a huge huge difference.
As you might remember, I created a trans superhero named Escpade with the help of artists Ted Brandt and Ro Stein, and her first appearance was in Marvel Voices: Pride #1 last summer. I was lucky enough to write three issues of New Mutants (#31-33) featuring her, and those are out now. (See the first three covers above.) And now I'm writing a miniseries called New Mutants: Lethal Legion, in which Escapade drags the New Mutants into a really, really ill-advised heist plan, for the best possible motives. It's ridic fun and full of silly hijinks, but there's a serious core to it, about trauma and how we deal with it. New Mutants: Lethal Legion starts March 8, but the deadline for comic book stores to order copies is this Monday, Feb. 6. So if you request it from your local comics shop (or Things From Another World, or whoever) by Monday, that would be a huge, huge help. I would be so grateful.
Also! I'm publishing the third book in my Unstoppable trilogy on April 11, and Promises Stronger Than Darkness is also available for preorder. The fate of the galaxy is at stake — and Tina, who was supposed to be the galaxy's greatest hero, is gone. Tina's friends try to save everyone, while grappling with questions like, "is violence ever justified?" And "how do we pull together without having toxic leadership?" It's probably the most outrageous, weird, silly, scary thing I've ever written, and I am excited for y'all to read it.
I'm just gonna repeat what I said above: PREORDERING IS A GODLIKE ACT. It makes you a power user!
