So I did a thing.
I quit my job.
In the middle of a pandemic.
That’s a definite conversation starter if ever there was one.
You may ask yourself the very question many people ask whenever I break this news to them. How do I plan on spending my newfound freedom? The answer, “I plan to take more time to write.” They usually follow my reply up with another question. “Can’t you do that in your spare time?” Sure. Like many aspiring and even published authors out there, it is completely possible to hold a full-time job and still write. It’s the very thing I’ve been doing the last twenty years. But with the current state of the world, what more of a reminder do we need to not be afraid to dream bigger than our particular circumstances may allow?
To tell this story the right way, I have to back up a bit. I’ve known I wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I was the kid who walked around with notebook after notebook filled with ‘my stories’. When you’re an only child, you learn to entertain yourself. Writing has always been my biggest form of entertainment. There was a part of me that always knew “published author” was my destiny in life. And then reality set in.
After some less-than-stellar decisions during high school, my lifelong dream of attending school in New York City (a virtual writer’s paradise) never materialized. Instead, my academic journey led me to state school, which though it had its fair share of the arts, never really provided me the creative support I needed to become successful at writing. Honestly, that’s not entirely surprising. Writing is innately a solitary task, one that doesn’t always lend itself too much support or camaraderie.
I’ve seen most of my college friends, many of whom had creativity that lay in theater and music, go on to great success in their professional careers within various aspects of the entertainment industry. Being the lone wolf of my group who had an interest in writing as opposed to performing, it forced me to find my own creative outlets. I created a web series, Wandering Falls, back before web series were even a thing. It allowed me to create the stories I wanted to read and fulfilled that part of me that yearned for artistic creativity. It was a good run, with fifty “episodes”, basically ongoing chapters of one huge story that ended with a never resolved cliffhanger because of my increasing commitments to work. Just another reminder for me: it’s time to try things differently.
I have been working professionally since I was fifteen-years-old. In the last twenty-plus years, I don’t believe I’ve gone more than a single week without working. I spent the first decade of my work life in the food-service industry, an interesting field that everyone needs to be a part of at some point in their life if for no other reason than to realize how not to be an obnoxious ass when dining out. Throughout school, the restaurant industry was one that I could be a part of that both worked around my academic schedule and helped pay the bills. It also allowed me time to write, as the industry never meant having to work a regular 9 to 5 and provided some flexibility that most traditional jobs do not.
As my twenties waned, I knew that though I still had dreams of writing, financially I was not in a place where I could even attempt to do so with any regularity. I needed a regular paying job. Though the flexibility that came with the restaurant industry, was nice in that it allowed me some time to write, the ever-changing nature of living off of gratuities often diminished that freedom, as I’d all too often forsake a day off to write in favor of picking up an extra shift to make extra cash. It was definitely time for a change.
I always say I stumbled into the next realm of my professional career, property management. Applying to a leasing position on a whim, I honestly didn’t think I even had a shot, as I was coming into the industry with no experience. But the hiring manager was willing to take a chance on me and offered me the job. I never looked back.
Working my way up the ranks of the industry from a leasing and marketing professional, I ultimately went into on-site management roles, before most recently serving in a Director capacity within a client-facing role on the vendor side of the property management industry. It’s been a great industry to be a part of and definitely opened many doors for me professionally. The only problem for me was the same problem I’d always had with every job I had. It wasn’t writing.
My most recent position was the harshest reminder of this yet. The role didn’t allow for any sort of creative outlet. Managing upset clients regularly, juggling varying temperaments and thinking up ways to grow a business that I was never passionate about, despite being good at it, just wasn’t what I saw for myself continuing into the future. Everyone has the idea that a high-paying job is the epitome of success. Yet here I was, making the most money I’ve made in my career, but finding myself the most miserable I’ve ever been in my life. High blood pressure, an out-of-whack thyroid, panic attacks, and a heart attack scare aside, I knew that something finally had to change. After many false starts, I finally decided it was time to walk away.
Throughout my writing, I’ve always written about writers. Justin Scott, the protagonist of Wandering Falls, was an aspiring writer. Chance Baker, the narrator of my in-progress full-length novel, Chance in Love, is a writer. It’s far past time I join the ranks of my own creations. After two decades of silencing my passion, it’s finally time for me to be a writer.
When you tell people you’re leaving your full-time, well-paying job, they look at you as if you have horns growing out of your forehead. While some people offer their congratulations, telling you how they secretly wish they could do what you’re doing, others feel the need to tell you what a big mistake you’re making and question what you’re going to do for money. While it’s a legitimate question, anyone that knows me knows that I must have a plan. After all, there’s still a mortgage to pay, a fridge that needs stocking and an eight-year-old furbaby named Daphne, who is all too accustomed to the finer things in life. But if 2020 has shown me anything, it’s that life is too short and can be over in the blink of an eye. The last thing I want for my tombstone to read is “He Worked … A Lot!” I have so much more living to do.
So with that in mind, I resigned from my position, not really sure what the future holds, yet knowing that for the first time in my life, it’s up to me to forge my own path and invest in my dreams. I do have to say that even the idea of my walking away from the daily grind of my job wouldn’t be possible without the love and support of my partner of the last ten years. That we’ve been able to grow together is one of the greatest accomplishments of my life. Even he could see it was time for a change. Perhaps it was witnessing the dimming of my spirit first-hand, watching as I continued to be a round-the-clock slave to a job that was literally sucking the life out of me. Or maybe it was as simple as his wanting me to come to bed at a decent hour, instead of the wee hours of the morning after getting what feels like the tiniest bit of writing done. Whatever the case, knowing that I have someone who has my back and fully supports me through this journey definitely makes all the difference. I don’t expect things being easy. In fact, I’ve almost prepared myself for them to be anything but easy. I’ve never not had a job. I’ve also never had a job that provided me a sense of fulfillment. It’s time for that to change.
Full disclosure, as I enter this new chapter, I’m not doing so without some form of work lined up. Much like I stumbled into leasing all those years ago, I’ve now stumbled into a new opportunity which allows me to use that creative writing degree hanging on the wall, while allowing some of the flexibility I’ve been missing to have the time to write. It’s a compromise I can live with while I move full speed ahead toward seeing what can become of my writing. Plus, I have some other irons in the fire, ensuring that this journey doesn’t end with us out on the street. We fortunately live in a world nowadays where there are many non-traditional ways to make money. I said that I was taking a leap of faith, not jumping without a parachute.
Still, it’s scary to go from working non-stop into the virtual unknown. But with the freeing up of time that’s been used toward helping secure someone else’s success, I’m finally allowed the opportunity to focus on creating my own. Time to fully devote toward mining my craft, finishing both books I‘ve written that sit in varying stages of completion, while finally tackling some other writing projects I’ve been wanting to start for far too long. Maybe I’ll finally resolve that cliffhanger to Wandering Falls. Whatever the case, I’m excited to meet the world of other writers out there, as I’m finding that writing doesn’t have to be as solitary an endeavor as I’ve always believed it to be. More than anything, I’m planning to take a minute to just breathe. It feels like I’ve been waiting a lifetime to do precisely that. For what feels like the first time in a very long time, I’m truly excited to see exactly what the future holds.