I wrote for myself for many years. It wasn’t that I didn’t want publication, it was more that I just didn’t need it. I had a job that paid the bills, so I didn’t necessarily need to turn my writing into an income stream. I was simply enjoying myself and learning my craft. Writing was a hobby that kept me sane and gave me an outlet for emotions. When writing for myself, I was free to experiment with voice, genre, length, and style. I also had all the time in the world to write. No one was breathing down my neck about deadlines and contracts.
And then one day I decided to try to get published. Friends had been telling me for years that I should try. “You can make money at this,” they said. People seemed to like my stories, so I thought, “Sure, why not?” And I succeeded. Against all odds, I was accepted by a traditional publisher and my books were put into print.
Yay?
It was heady stuff, for a time. But then the hard reality set in. My publisher put in maybe ten percent marketing effort on my behalf. The other ninety percent was on me. Suddenly I had obligations that took me away from writing. I enjoyed the in-person events and small group virtual events. Connecting on a human level was fun. But the endless time on social media trying to drum up interest was not enjoyable for me. I was spending too much time and money chasing down new marketing strategies, advertising platforms, and places that would interview me or let me guest post/podcast. And we won’t even talk about taxes and the other red tape aspects of running a business.
Couple all of that with the fact that I still had (and needed) a full time job, and I was left with no time to write. Which was funny because I had a contract that said I needed to produce two more books within a year and a half. Um, great? When was I supposed to do that? And when I did have time to write, I was told that I needed to stay in my genre. No more pursuing my varied interests, at least not unless I could cobble even more non-existent free time together to work on alternate books just for my enjoyment.
Yes, I was making money, just as my friends predicted. And while I won’t say the money wasn’t welcome, I didn’t strictly need it. It wasn’t enough to allow me to quit my job, so now I basically had two full time jobs. Sure, there might have come a day when the writing would pay the bills, but would I even be alive by then to enjoy it? The stress was killing me.
Writing stopped being fun.
It took me that initial two book contract, plus another three book contract to realize that. All the extra stuff and stress killed the joy. The day I realized it, I said, “What the hell am I even doing?”
Writing had always been the thing I loved. Through shedloads of other hobbies and life’s ups and downs, writing was the one thing that was always good. It allowed me to create, to vent, and to step into new worlds. When I realized I actually hated it, I cried for days.
Monetization killed it. Monetization brought pressure, time and creative constraints, and very little joy. I salute authors who find all of the auxiliary aspects of publishing energizing, fun, and exciting. I envy you because it must make being published so much easier than it was for me.
After I finished my last contractually obligated book, I stepped back for six months. I told my publisher I needed a break before I could commit to any more books. And then… I never went back.
I took time to think, hard, about what I really wanted to do with the rest of my life.
And here I am, writing for free again.
Go figure.
The point is, money is good, and necessary. But sometimes you need to find ways to make money that don’t kill the thing you love most. So if you love a hobby, I encourage you to think long and hard about whether monetizing that hobby will be good for you. There’s no shame in keeping it to yourself, or even giving your work away. There are always other ways to make money.
And, hey, if you think you will love all the stuff that comes along with monetization, (or you have the money to pay a marketing expert and an accountant) go for it. Many people do, or at least they judge it to be worth it in the grand scheme of things. If that’s you, have at it and know that you have my admiration.
