I saw this note from Taco Bell Quarterly earlier this week:

It hit me. Hard.

Because for all the writing I’ve done . . .

For all the art I’ve made . . .

For all the connecting and sharing and asking and emailing and growing I’ve done . . .

I know what my answer is to the question. And it isn’t yes.

The truth is there are so many more things I could be doing to back myself as an independent writer and artist. Bigger, more vulnerable things that—if they work—might actually move the needle toward being (consistently, reliably) paid for my creative work.

One thing I mean when I say “creative work”

Things like:

Repeatedly telling everyone I know about my art and how they can buy it, even when it feels intimidating, irrelevant, or like they won’t understand it (or me).
Regularly pitching and submitting my writing to paid opportunities, not because I need a gatekeeper’s approval, but because it’s another way of putting my writing where it might be found.
Decoupling the work that pays from the work that lights me up, and letting the work that payssupport the work that lights me up, at least for now. Maybe one day the work that lights me up can also be the work that pays without it (or me) suffering because of it.

I don’t want to shift into pure hustle. I’ve done that before and, though I’m grateful for the things it helped me do—move to NYC from small-town North Carolina, pay off $40K+ in debt, save for top surgery—I don’t want to go there again. I don’t want to wreck myself on the way to my dreams.

But maybe I don’t have to. Maybe trying with all of my heart doesn’t have to mean doing more. Maybe it’s about doing less but better. Whole-heartedly, not half-heartedly.