It is rare for a creative to be organised. But part of me craves order, leading me to create to-do lists and lay out tomorrow’s clothes the night before. The part that makes me live by habits and systems and routines. I have high-functioning anxiety, but that is a topic for another blog post.
Sometimes – only sometimes – I think practically and logically.
I’ve been thinking logically about writing. Creating art does not guarantee you’ll make a living from it. I wish it did. Imagine if artists and creatives were guaranteed money for their work. That is utopian thinking. In reality, life is not fair to artists. They pour their heart and soul into their work. Most of the time, their art doesn’t get the recognition it deserves. Sometimes they get nothing at all. You could spend years writing a novel only to discover that nobody’s willing to publish it. You could create a painting that takes months to complete, and nobody sees it. You could record an entire album, and nobody hears it. Creation does not guarantee success.
I often think about what I’m going to become in the future. What line of work I’m going to go into. What I’m going to do to make a living. My writing will not support me alone. It may never even gain attention. I may never get paid to write… so I need a job.
Work is a contentious topic for me. I have had two jobs in my lifetime. The first was at a restaurant, a job that I despised. The second was at a fish-and-chip shop, which wasn’t much better. I’ve discovered that I am not suited to simple manual labour. I failed at both of these jobs. Miserably. I made constant mistakes due to my anxiety and suffered abuse from the staff. My experiences in the hospitality sector have driven me away from it for life. I’ve vowed never to work as a waiter again. Both jobs gave me an existential crisis. They obliterated my self-worth, even though they weren’t important. They were absolutely meaningless. I didn’t want to serve food in the first place. I didn’t want to be at any of them. But at the time, I needed the money.
My terrible experiences with these jobs have changed my life. Now, I am terrified of working a simple job. I am repulsed by the idea of serving food or stacking shelves. Others find a relaxation and comfort in these things. Other people get something out of working in shops and restaurants. I don’t, and I never will.
I want something more.
I need a good job. Something interesting, something meaningful.
Editing. I want to become a line editor. Someone who edits sentences by sharpening and developing them. A line editor ensures that the writer’s ideas are expressed in the clearest way. They zoom in. They analyse every word and make the necessary changes. I’ve discovered that I’m good at this. My friends often ask me to read over their writing. I’ve gained a tiny bit of experience in line-editing already. And I enjoy it. The problem-solving aspect. How can this sentence hit harder? What can I replace this word with? Is everything punctuated correctly? I am not great at it, but I’m learning. I want to become great at it. I briefly considered journalism and even something psychology-related, but I now know that I’m going into editing.
I want to help writers make their work publishable, so they can share their ideas with the world.
That is the practical side of it. Editing will be my occupation… but I am going to write on the side. I’ll make a living from editing other people’s writing. When I am finished with my work for the day, I will work on my own projects. Novels, short stories, poems (if I start writing them again). It works out perfectly. Being part of the publishing industry will provide insight into what makes writing publishable. I can then use this knowledge to produce something good enough to share with the world.
This blog will also play a part. Who knows what it will look like in a few years? This is my primary website. The place where I share all of my writing. I am unsure how exactly it will contribute to my future career, but I know for a fact that it will.
Being at university grants me a major advantage. The English department has connections. I’ll meet people who can help. I’ll have an array of opportunities that I must leap at. I should start establishing connections, to ensure that I get an editing job once I graduate. It is a lot to think about. Editing and publishing is not as competitive as other industries, but I need to get ahead nonetheless.
Mediocrity terrifies me. You already know this if you read my blog. But I cannot settle for anything less than a job I am passionate about. A job I am good at, and wish to pursue for the rest of my life. I will accept nothing else. No café job, no summer job, no meaningless manual labour.
Does that make me a dysfunctional person?
Iestyn Tudor 