Time to Level Up

I took a sip of the champagne—the good, imported stuff. This was a celebration and I couldn’t have been prouder of my husband for getting the raise and soon, the title, he’d worked so hard for. Still, the thought tickled the back of my brain like the bubbles tickled the back of my throat: I need to level up in my career.

Let me take a moment to acknowledge that what follows is the sappy song of someone who got everything she wanted in life; the kind of stuff that rolls eyes the internet over. It does not provide any concrete solutions to anyone’s problem. It will neither be discussed as sage wisdom in the forums of accomplished women, nor taught in the halls of learned men, though it may get a few hate shares (a click is a click). So, if you’re not rolling out the guillotine yet…

The day job. It’s exactly what it sounds like. It’s the job that pays the bills while you’re working on the career, particularly a creative career. I’ve taken a lot of criticism over the years about how I balance the day job with creative endeavors, and it has mostly come from creative circles. From barely audible side comments and “just sayin’” observations, to dramatic tales of sacrifices made for art, I’ve lost count of the ways people tactlessly opined that I put far too much energy into the corporate resume and not enough into honing my craft. That these observations often coincided with something the observers wanted me to do for them is perhaps why I continued doing what I needed to do to live up to my own standards as a grown woman and paid little mind to their criticism. The bills weren’t going to pay themselves, and it seemed better to work towards a job I could tolerate than to keep bouncing from something I hated to something I was about to hate in the interest of conserving energy for art (or using misery to fuel it).

What I got for my effort was a resume full of day jobs that led to good jobs in my field, which I shaped into the corporate side of my career overall. On the corporate side, I have enough experience that I’m in demand but not so much that it works against me. I like what I do and I’m good at it. I even really like my current position, which I get to fulfill from my home office. Things are going well.

The problem is the self-induced career stagnation. When an opportunity to advance the corporate side comes along, I think, If I throw my hat into the ring and it works out, then that’s what I will be—not a dark fiction writer. Though I am no more correct than the critics I’m able to ignore, when the thought is my own I tend to give it more attention than it’s worth, and that can lead to missed opportunities. This phenomenon is not unique to me; I’ve been discussing it with fellow creative people for a long time. In fact, many of the people who’ve criticized my balance of steady jobs with creative pursuits have also confessed to experiencing this same phenomenon, and I wonder if their criticism comes from not being 100% pleased with their own decisions on the matter.

Yet, there I was, trying to make a crossroads out of a clear path, when my husband called to tell me he got his raise and to give me the details about pending promotions. Now, I don’t really believe in signs. It stands more to reason that we see the signs we want to see based on the decisions we’ve already made, but if I had been waiting for a sign that it was time to level up on the corporate side, that would have been it.

As I said, I clearly don’t have any answers or concrete formulas on how to manage a career (I was literally just talking about signs). If there’s a point at all, it’s that:

No one can determine your path, assign your priorities, or define your success but you, and it’s perfectly fine to ignore anyone else who tries.

And THAT’S how we do motivational posters around here.

Fear of Success?

So, I’m looking for a new paid gig again.  For the record, I hate being unemployed.  Shocker.  I think the legion of unemployed in this country would absolutely agree with me.  My guess is that most of us would rather be at work than sitting at home job searching and fretting about what’s going to happen when the money runs out.

For me, it goes even further than that.  I don’t do well with nothing to do and beat myself up for not being useful.  It doesn’t matter how many times my husband, my family, or my friends tell me I’m not useless, or how many of my various talents and abilities they point out.  I judge myself harshly and always have, which brings me to the conversation I had last night.

The Universe saw fit to remind me that I hadn’t finished my book yet.  The book is a compilation of my shorter works.  Many of the pieces were done when I decided to do a collection, but there weren’t enough of them to justify an entire book.  So, I decided on including 13 total pieces (because the tales and poems are of a morbid nature, so y’know…13), and I’ve had 11 for the past two years.   In truth, I’ve finished it five or six times over, but then I inevitably decide that I hate one of the stories, or that it doesn’t really fit with the theme, and I kick it out of the compilation.  Like many writers, I judge my work very harshly.  In my mind, it’s better that I tell myself I’m no good than to have some else say it.  Obviously, this isn’t true, but the fear of rejection haunts us all.

However, it has been pointed out that perhaps I don’t have a fear of rejection as much as a fear of success.  My first response to this was, “That’s crazy!  Who doesn’t want to be successful doing something they love?”  But the more I look at it, the more I think this may be a valid observation.

As I was searching through job listings, I bypassed a lot of the writing positions on the premise that “They don’t want me” or “I’m not qualified.”  So what if I’m not qualified?  Shouldn’t I leave that to a hiring manager to tell me?  I bookmarked those job listings and decided to sleep on it.

I directed my attention to the book in progress, and alas, I found another story that I thought I might remove from the project.  I took the file from my folder and made a comment to the husband about why I was removing it.  He wasn’t happy.

He pointed out that I do this all the time, and that he’d like to be able to hold his wife’s book in hands at some point in his near future.  And then he reminded me of that fear of success.

He was right.

I went to bed frustrated, but I woke up with resolve.

Whether it is fear of rejection, or fear of success, it is still fear.  It is still crippling.  It is what will keep me from being more than what I am.

So this morning, I applied to those writing jobs.  I put the story I didn’t like back in my compilation folder and made a commitment to work on it and make it something I DO like and CAN be proud of.  I put the little voice that tells me I’m not good enough in the corner with duct tape over her mouth.  The reality is that I don’t have nothing to do—double negative intended—because I actually have plenty to do. I have a paid gig to land and a book to finish.

I’m not useless.  And while the world doesn’t owe me a thing, the world should be damn happy I’m part of it.  I have a lot to offer.