It’s been a ‘sad penguin’ sort of week for various reasons. And maybe this year's wider ‘Sad Penguin-ness’ is another post too. But I realised last week that November feels pretty ‘meh’ as a month. Made me think not end-of-year panic but more end of year defeat from feeling…not quite enough.
And now I’ve reached the end of the year (ish, and if a man I invoiced two weeks ago can say he was done for the year, we can all channel that energy, my gays and gals. Be more that dude). But as we start December, I find myself in a weird limbo of ‘nothing major going on’ and ‘feel like there should be more going on.’ as well, if I’m honest, a feeling of not having achieved much this year. But mainly because there’s just not much to show for a lot of work. Or at least it feels that way.
This week’s blog is both a way to show myself I did work hard this year and also maybe to shine a light on how none of us feel like we’re doing enough to keep up with the expectations on us.
I’ve worked flat out all year, often in a desperate, frantic, overworked, and overwhelmed way. But all of it has been a squirrelly behind-the-scenes way with seemingly not a lot to show for it.
Last year, by contrast, felt a lot more ‘front facing’. There seemed to be a lot going on, and a lot that turned around quickly that I had things to show for it. Whether that was a lot of articles written, teaching things, or just a feeling of something. This year, by contrast, nothing much came of anything.
In reality, this is what I was up to behind the scenes.
Finished copy edit of the Rent book.
Wrote the longer Schitt’s Creek book.
Copy edits on Angels in America book.
Indexing and final proofing Angels in America book.
Wrote Russell T Davies Book.
Re-wrote the Rent book (two-thirds of it, there’s a story there)
In ‘creative’ stuff
Did two redrafts of a novel.
Moved the novel into two parts.
Did a major re-write of part one
Wrote 55k of a third novel
Began a new play
In articles/blogs
Started ‘the Queer Notebook’ - 22 blogs since April
Started a creative writing blog
Relaunched my theatre blog.
Wrote 3 articles for The Queer Review
Wrote 5 theatre reviews
That last section is where I feel I’ve ‘let myself down’ most…in previous years, I’ve written dozens of reviews and articles- either on my own blog or for other places. This year I lost both time and motivation. But I’ve relaunched my blog and hope to return to it next year.
So why do I feel so ‘meh’ about this year’s work?
A lot of reasons. One is losing that spark/drive for article writing, which used to be my almost ‘proof’ I was ‘doing something it was, after all my ‘replacement’ for academic writing. When repeatedly told you ‘write like a journalist as an insult…well, you might as well go and do it. And I think I was good at it…but I found myself in a weird place of not quite going professional, not quite cracking my way into that world, but producing so much work it felt like a full-time job. And yes, I wasn’t getting paid, and it was a lot of work. And I burned out with it, feeling like there was no point if it wasn’t going to be ‘a job’. But all that said, I miss it, and slowly I feel like I’m getting back to it.
As for the rest, I know logically, I look at that list and feel like there’s a lot of work there, but it doesn’t seem enough.
I know I spent much of this year- particularly between spring and autumn, working flat out every hour I could. And I’m not exaggerating. In the month I had off before starting a new job, I worked 9-10 hours a day, trying to get as much of the work done as possible…and suddenly, come this month… everything stopped. I feel like I’ve done nothing. Because that’s the thing with these bigger projects, with working on books. They are your whole life, and then they’re gone for months (occasionally years), and you can’t do anything…but also currently have nothing to show for it. Yes, playing the long game is difficult to reconcile when you stop.
It indicates my inability to stop, rest, and think I’ve done enough. But it’s also the wider pressure on us all to produce, to side hustle, to hustle on the side of the hustle.
Not forgetting, in all this, there were jobs and job hunting. I started three new jobs this year, another issue altogether. But that takes physical and emotional energy. As well as actual time. Doing all this around earning a living- including teaching on the side. But also, things shifted this year as we moved out of whatever the hell we call the last two years into whatever the hell is next, and there was less teaching. And I feel both guilty and sad about that. Guilty I’m not working hard enough at it, and sad that I’m not doing it as much. Again a combination of my way of thinking and how the world seems to function.
I said no to a lot this year; I did. To prioritise the things that needed to get done, the books. I said no to reviews, to other bits and pieces. I stopped myself from going after smaller freelance projects to which I couldn’t give time. And still, it feels like not getting very far.
And in some ways, some years be that way, right? Some years you put in the work behind the scenes to get a payoff later (hopefully). Maybe next year will feel more like last; I will feel like I have something to show for it all. Maybe not. Maybe next year, I’ll slow down and do less and feel ok about it. Maybe somewhere in between.
It’s hard because I feel like an in-between sort of person. Suppose I look at people still in academia. In that case, I feel like I’m not working hard enough because they have endless journal articles and chapters churned out. And I have…nothing much. Or those who can be doing other creative or journalistic-type roles too. But I also remember that it’s their job to do that. While I have to have a job to fund all this. And honestly, that’s what’s exhausting. That’s why I never feel like I’m caught up because so much energy has gone into finding work that can allow me to do the work. I spend all week working to do the work in the evening and weekend. It is, in fact…never enough; it can’t be because there aren’t enough hours in a day, week or year. You can never feel like you’ve done enough if you don’t have time. Or if you’re never one thing or another.
I tried to explain some of this to a course I was on at my ‘day job’ a few weeks back. Someone said they felt ‘really sorry for me’ and that I didn’t consider my current job my ‘calling’ in life or similar. That I wasn’t ‘truly passionate about it’. Firstly, I firmly believe you don’t need passion to be good at something, nor do you need to ‘love’ your job with your whole heart. But I also politely pointed out that my passions, which drive me, sit outside that job. I wouldn’t, after all, spend from 7-9 every night, and most of my weekends doing all the things for that, if I wasn’t. So maybe even when it feels like not enough, clearly something is because it’s driving me there (and also, take that Boomer).
And you know what? No, my current ‘day job’ isn’t a ‘dream job’ (what it even is). And this year, I’ve gone to hell and back with jobs; it’s been a microcosm of all the things I struggle with in jobs and have always done. I’ve had freelance hell (getting fired for not working while my heating had been ripped out and not getting paid). Exhausting customer-facing work (with the greatest people I’ve worked with in a long time), a terrible office job (really get to fuck you awful people), to a job that I am…distinctly ok at and is… completely fine. Realistically I’ll take that. It’s a perfectly decent job doing good work with good people. Compared to the last three years, that’s a miracle. But I still feel ‘not enough’ that I’m not in a ‘good enough’ job, that I’m not ‘good enough’ for a good enough job…that I should just be …better. Sometimes ‘completely fine’ is ‘good enough (though if anyone wants to pay me more, that’s always welcome, girl’s gotta eat, and girl’s got an expensive hockey hobby to pay for now). But do I feel not ‘enough’...all the time. I feel so far behind my peers I will likely never catch up. Both financially and in terms of career progression…of which I have none…and it makes you feel very small, sad, and very much not enough. So I lean into the ‘other’ work, the work that the day job funds, which also feels never enough, and on and on and on…
Of course, despite churning out a decent word count of work, there’s always a nagging feeling that it isn’t ‘enough’ both in terms of productivity and what you’re doing. Outside of the realms of academia, it’s been left to my feral chaos brain to carve a path for myself, which is…predictably chaos. I accept that, and I embrace it to a degree. After all, if I spend time spending all my time- writing for next to no financial return, I might as well write about something I like. So if that’s musicals and Timelords, be it. But of course, there’s always someone to tell you differently. There’s always someone looking down on you for not having the ‘good enough’ publisher/agent/book. Hear that enough, and it’s not unreasonable that you start to believe it.
One lesson I did learn this year, was writing for the love of it. My creative work has been driven previously by a sense of ‘how to learn to write something people like’ in theatre. Spoiler, they probably won’t like you, so just write for you. But most of this year, almost every day, I’ve worked on the world of the novel that has become three. I created a little world where I can happily write, explore, express things I can’t in other ways, say things I can’t otherwise…do all the things writing is supposed to do.
I spent so many joyous hours with those characters this year, and I’m so eager to share them with the world, but I also don’t want to stop living in their world. And while at times the voices in my head (or snobbish folks with writing opinions) make me think ‘if you’re not getting a hgue book deal out of it what’s the point’ and I worry that I’ve written something that so few people will care about that it’ll never see the light of day. But then I remembered that these stories helped me figure things out about myself, helped me say things I couldn’t say, helped me create characters and a story that brings me so much joy and warmth that I want to stay hanging out in them. Even if nobody else ever read them…that would be enough.
So in times of ‘no enough,’ I go back to those stories and the feeling it gives me. The feeling is that if they’re ‘enough’ for me, they’re enough and worthy enough to share. But that writing them, creating them, is also enough, even if just a handful of people get to enjoy it. But also that I did that, I created something that I’m proud of, that brings joy that is actually…good enough and enough. It’s remembering that writing for writing’s sake and doing it for me is also enough at times.
I find November a very meh month. The gloom that is English November weather does not help. So you are not alone. And I work with lots of academics and can confirm that your feelings of not enough, despite an impressive list of accomplishments, are common there too. I’m glad you are finding your way in post-academic life and have a nice enough job that leaves you time and energy for the stuff you love.