Mamas, Don't Let Your Babies Grow up to Be Writers

The other day, my seven-year-old said to me: "Mom, when I grow up I want to do nails or write children’s books."  My guess is that she will pursue something different altogether, but it made me think: do I really want my kids to follow my rocky path as a writer? About a month ago, someone e-mailed me for advice on getting into journalism. She was older, had pursued another career for years, and was ready to make a switch. She was passionate. I did my best to support her with ideas and realistic expectations. She thanked me profusely. Yet, prospects just aren't fabulous out there even for experienced editors and writers.

When I started out in journalism many years ago, it was truly the best of times. I was in technology journalism at the very beginning of the public Internet, working for magazines, and making good coin for decent hours. Those days are over. Since my journalism career I've had corporate jobs and many freelance jobs. I'm now into my seventh year as an independent consultant-- writing, editing, blogging, and handling PR for a lot of different high-tech companies. I love my schedule, because it gives me the flexibility to work around my kids. I get paid well for what I do-- and I don't even work 40 hours.

There's no way I could earn what I do on strictly writing gigs or as a staff writer somewhere. At least half of my income comes from PR. I never thought I would do it (evil PR!) but now that I've been schilling stories for a while, I find it to be fun and rewarding. I still get to work with ideas and write articles and other content. My job is fast-paced and quite intellectual. I work with smart people and for the most part, I have fantastic clients. The journalists put up with me and some even like me.

If I were to do it all over, though, I'm not sure I would've gone into journalism. It's been a roller coaster over the years and even now, running my own business, I am always wondering what my income will be next month and in the month after and so on. Let's be clear: I do not have the benefit of a spouse with a lavish corporate job. We both work for ourselves and sometimes it's just a damn strain. Yet still, I consider myself very, very lucky.

What career would I have pursued otherwise? I haven't the slightest clue, to be honest. Like most writers, I harbor a deep-seated desire to write A Novel—or at the very least, a shallow, wildly successful thriller that's made into a blockbuster film.

Can you do what you love and the money will follow, as these guys always say? Occasionally— but not typically. No one’s paying me to play tennis, drink wine, read novels or play with my kids, inexplicably. Just as my parents did with me, I will steer my children toward the best-paying, intellectually-stimulating careers. Does that make me shallow? Not really. It makes me practical. “Do what you love" is mostly for off-hours, sorry. "Do what you can, do what you do well and try and make it fun," seems like a reasonable mantra to me. What do you think?