How I Make Time for the Work That Actually Matters

Tips for creatives trying to balance paid work with soul work

Like a lot of working writers, I spend a good chunk of my time writing about things I don't particularly care about. Pest control, crypto platforms, debt relief programs, hot dog buns, you name it. If it pays, I'll probably at least try to write it, and most days, I do.

But the writing that actually feeds me? The spiritual essays. The longform explorations of self. The storytelling that lets me really dig into topics I care about. The visual art that sparks something I'm proud to share with others, even if they don't "get it," per se. That’s what I've always had to fight to make time for, often failing miserably.

And if you're anything like me, you might be in a similar boat.

The work I genuinely love doing isn’t always profitable or even productive. It's definitely not urgent by society's definition. But I've realized over the years that it’s what makes me feel like I have a reason for being here. It’s the work that reflects who I actually am, not just what I can do or how I can potentially serve the rest of society.

I think of it as my Eight of Cups work. The cups that may not look as impressive or stable as the ones I’ve walked away from, but that I actually feel excited about drinking from. (Sometimes, there's even sparkling Chardonnay or cold lemonade in there. Yum!)

And lately? I've actually been consistently showing up for that work without shirking my obligations to my clients or ghosting the bills I still need to pay.

Accepting the Reality of Your Energy

A huge turning point for me was accepting that I don’t have infinite energy, especially as I get older. That I’m not going to walk away from a jam-packed day of ghostwriting articles for clients and then bang out a spiritual essay, design a new T-shirt, or rewrite the ending to my latest short story.

That used to frustrate me. But these days, I plan around it.

Instead of trying to force myself into some rigid daily content grind, I finally seem to have learned to build my creative routine around my natural rhythms. For example, I write my best essays and newsletter posts on weekdays when I first get up. 

I know I have a much smaller window of usable energy on weeknights, but also that those windows are perfectly suitable for banging out product descriptions or marketing blogs for clients. (There's also no way I'll ghost a client deadline, even if I'm tired, while I definitely might if it's just something I planned on writing for myself.)

"I'm Broke, But Can You Make Me a Masterpiece?"

Why custom art isn’t free just because the tools got faster

So, let me paint you a picture.

You’re an artist, illustrator, or other visual content creator who’s incorporated AI into your workflow at some point. One day, you open up Facebook, Instagram, TicketyTok, or wherever it is you go online when you feel like sharing some of your renders.

There’s a message request waiting there for you.

Maybe it’s from someone you know in passing. Could be from someone you’ve never met who stumbled across something you made at random. Either way, they’re reaching out in search of custom artwork for a CD cover, a tattoo design, or maybe just a gift for a friend.

And while they admit they’re broke and don’t have a lot of money to throw around, they’re hoping that maybe — just maybe — you can help them out. Cheaply.

Cue the sigh. Cue the eye rub. Cue the immediate inner monologue of, “Do I even have the bandwidth for this? Because I know how this usually goes…”

Spoiler: It goes like this more often than not. And yet… I might still say yes.

Let’s talk about it.

The Opening Line Every Artist Knows by Heart

“I don’t have much money, but…”

I have heard this exact sentence — verbatim — dozens upon dozens of times over the years. It’s basically the universal handshake of freelance digital artists, especially those of us who dabble in AI or otherwise use digital tools to bring our visions to life.

It’s never malicious. It’s not even always entitled. A lot of the time, it’s just how people are used to opening the door. They lead with scarcity, with apology, and with the hope that you’ll either:

• Feel bad for them and cut your rate, or…
• Be so balls-out passionate about art that you’ll do it for free because you love making art just that damn much

But here’s the thing. I do love making art. A lot. Always have and almost certainly always will. And that’s exactly why I don’t just give the things I make away for a fart and a song.

What I Wish I Believed About Money (And What I'm Learning Instead)

I've always had to worry about money and think about it way more than I'd like. It's also always managed to elude me, so it's never been the neutral force in my life that it should have been. 

Instead, the concept of money has felt loaded right from the beginning. Emotional. Moral. Personal. 

My potential earning power and job title were literally all that ever mattered about me to my parents, even when I was little. For that reason, it's always been hard to separate the number in my bank account from how I feel about myself as a human being. Not because I think money should define worth, but because the world around me often acts like it does.

I wish I believed instead that money was just energy, the way some people do. That it's normal for it to flow like breath or water — sometimes abundant, sometimes scarce, but never personal. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still working on that (and often failing miserably).

But I'm learning that when we stop viewing money as an emotional verdict, we can start seeing it as a tool instead. A neutral current. A resource to work with, not beg for and judge yourself because of. If you’re struggling to see it that way, too, you may relate to some of what I'm about to say.

I Wish I Felt Allowed to Want Money

Like many people raised without a safety net or a proper support system, I’ve been conditioned to believe there's something wrong with wanting money. Suffering, working yourself too hard for too little, and being satisfied with that is virtuous. Being unwilling to quietly settle for what life (and those around you) have decided you deserve is ingratitude and perhaps even entitlement.

But the truth is, I don’t want piles of money so I can lord it over other people while the world falls apart around me.

I want it so I can breathe easier, sleep more deeply, and give more freely. I want to be able to say "yes" to beauty, travel, generosity, and creativity without feeling guilty for doing so. I want to be that person who can afford to bless a waitress or an Instacart shopper with a $500 tip. And yes, it would be nice to finally stop white-knuckling life for a change.

If you’re also struggling with guilt over wanting more, ask yourself, “What would having more allow me to do, feel, or create?” If you're anything like me, a lot of what comes immediately to mind is probably pretty wholesome. Regardless, there's no shame in wanting your needs to be met. And there's no merit in denying those needs because someone else told you to at one point or another in your life, either.

On Feeling Like the Ghost of a Blogger and a Life Update

Anthony Hopkins and Emma Thompson in Howards End (1992)

So a word to the wise aspiring writer. Don't take breaks from any of the things you're out there doing to build your brand and get your name around. A little break can so easily turn into a long one, and before you know it, you've lost a lot of the progress you made over all those months you worked so hard. I feel a little thin right now -- like the ghost of a blogger -- and I'm not sure I like it.

Today was the first day in a long while when I haven't needed to spend my entire productive day working on freelance assignments, so I've been attempting to catch up on things like Medium posts, items on my personal to-do list, and social media tasks. Coming back and posting something new to Medium especially felt really weird, and it's clear that I've got my work cut out for me as far as getting my traffic back up where it used to be. The single-digit views on that poor article from earlier were depressing, to say the least.

It felt really good to actually write something for myself again besides entries to my private journal that no one has access to but me, though. It was also nice to spend some time on video lectures, umpteenth watchings of old beloved movies like Howards End, and a little bit of pleasure reading, to boot. (I'm currently reading Their Eyes Were Watching God.) I need more little pockets of time like the ones I enjoyed today, and today was a valuable reminder of that. 

I wasn't going to take a long weekend for President's Day, as I was worried about falling behind at work. But most of my clients are taking it, so I don't have much on my plate right now and may as well take an extra day off, too. When I mentioned that to Seth, he said I need to take better advantage of working for myself and enjoy the same holidays everyone else gets. When he's right, he's right.

On Returning After an Unplanned Hiatus and Thanksgiving

Haynes King - The Letter

So here I am -- back from a somewhat involuntary break from blogging and working on getting back into the swing of things. I didn't plan things that way, but I did wind up busier than I needed to be, so I had to make a few judgment calls on the fly. I'm no longer willing to risk burnout or cut into my personal time with my husband to get ungodly amounts of work done, so I decided to simply put a couple of things on hold instead.

Sadly, blogging didn't make the cut as far as my writing life goes, but in retrospect, the break seems to have been good for me. Not only do I feel less poopy about certain things I'd been feeling poopy about, but I'm genuinely excited to get back into the groove after some time away. I've really missed expressing my thoughts this way and interacting with other writers on Medium and across all my social media channels.

As for what I have been up to, I did indeed wind up participating in this year's NaNoWriMo event. And I won, as these days I try to follow through on the writing commitment I make to myself come hell or high water. So that means I have a whole new collection of short stories under my belt -- one for every day in November. 

In April, I'll probably edit it for Camp NaNoWriMo and then begin releasing the stories one by one after that, as that worked out remarkably well last year. In the meantime, I still have plenty of stories leftover from last year's event that still haven't seen the light of day, so I'll still be floating the occasional fiction piece out there in the meantime. 

I've also been really busy with my copywriting business. I started writing marketing-themed content for a new client toward the end of October, and it's been working out really well so far. Not only does he toss me a good amount of work and pay me really well for it, but he eventually invited me to become a credited contributor to his company's blog. That means that although he's still my client and I'm still a hired freelancer, I'm no longer a ghostwriter as far as this particular client is concerned. And I'm stoked about it.

As anyone who's known me or read my stuff for long knows, I've had kind of a love/hate relationship with freelancing, in general, and ghostwriting, in particular when it comes to my writing. On the one hand, I love earning my living doing something like this instead of killing myself behind a cash register or a reception desk somewhere. But I don't always love letting other people take credit for content I worked hard on, especially when that content contains a lot of myself. 

I do occasionally still take one-off assignments about odd topics I don't really care about, but as I've gained experience, I've also niched down quite a lot. Most of the material I write for my regulars these days is on topics that I'm genuinely interested in and knowledgeable about -- like marketing, food, or relationships -- so it's not always easy to just give it away and let someone else take the credit for it. Being given a byline by this new client has really made me feel seen and valued in an exciting new way, so I'll be pursuing more opportunities like that in the future for sure.

On Discovering My Competitive Spirit

Untitled by Vincente Romero

So, I finally heard back about my application to Medium's new fellowship program. I did indeed get in, so once I receive my contract and get that all signed, I can expect a nice little minimum payment guarantee for August, September, and October. That's great because the more I can count on making through their platform every month, the more time I can actually justify spending over there. 

As always seems to be the case with every online platform, many writers have their gripes with Medium, but I've really been pretty happy with my experience so far. The type of writing I like to do is exactly the type of writing that does well there. I've been flexing my blogging muscles more often and can tell they're getting stronger, as I've been finding it easier to post really engaging content more frequently. And much to my surprise, I even seem to fit into the community there, and fitting in has never been something that came easily to me.

Medium also announced a big Vocal-style writing contest to close out the summer a few days ago. There are four prompts, four hefty cash prizes, an even heftier grand prize that will go out to one lucky writer, and a generous handful of smaller honorable mention payouts. I don't really kid myself that I will actually win anything, but I'm still looking forward to participating. The prompts are all totally my speed and sound like a blast to work with. Plus, you never know. Somebody wins those things.

Granted, it's taken me most of my life, but it's been nice to find things to do with my time and my talents that actually inspire a little healthy competitiveness in me. I was considered very gifted as a child and allegedly had a genius-level IQ, but I hated everything about it -- especially the way I was expected to enjoy competing with other kids for so-called honors that didn't mean anything to me. In some cases -- as with scholarships, apprenticeships, and opportunities to be shipped away to summer school in some other state -- I actively didn't want whatever the prize was. (Anything that added up to being ripped away from my home and being given a ton of extra work to do honestly felt more like a punishment than a reward.)

5 Struggles Even Professional Writers Deal With

Gaspar Melchor de Jovellanos - Francisco de Goya y Lucientes

When I first started putting myself out there with a mind to earn a full-time living via my words one day, there were so many issues I thought I'd just never have again once that happened. At the very least, I thought I'd reach this glorious place with my work where I always felt validated and never again doubted the quality of what I was doing. 

Yeah, not so much. Don't get me wrong. There's a lot to love about being a full-time writer, and I feel incredibly fortunate to be earning a living doing what I love most and consider myself to be best at. But life as a professional writer isn't actually all that different from life as an amateur who's doing what they do just for shits and giggles. 

No two writers will be exactly alike, but the following are a few of the struggles that are common among pretty much all of us, whether we've managed to go professional with our work yet or not. 

1. The fear of rejection remains a very real thing. 

I don't care what other writers would have you believe. None of us ever becomes totally fine with rejection. Do you eventually reach a place where you've thoroughly accepted that it comes with the territory? Yes. Do you get used to it and learn to stop taking it personally? Also, yes. But there will always be a part of you that hangs on tenterhooks when you've submitted something you're really proud of to a publisher for consideration. You really want that "yes," but you're terrified that you'll get a "no" instead.

And even when you know "no" isn't personal, it still sucks to hear. It still means something you worked hard on didn't quite make the cut for whatever reason, even if it's that it just wasn't what the publisher was looking for at the time. But every one of those experiences makes you better and stronger. Every "no" is a bit easier to bounce back from than the one before. 

If You Want to Be a Great Writer, Be a Teachable One

Not that long ago, someone posted a screencap of an interaction from Medium's private note function to one of the writing groups I belong to. The screencap showed a polite, very standard rejection note from the editor of one of Medium's bigger pubs. And below it was a horrible, vitriolic response from the writer basically cussing the editor out and telling him to go fuck himself. As a writer who writes and submits many places, Medium included, that shocked the shit out of me -- all that anger triggered by someone saying they'll pass on a piece this time but are looking forward to reading future submissions. 

I am familiar with the publication in question and that editor, so I can certainly say he was the last person who deserved to be spoken to like that. This editor found a self-published Medium piece of mine last summer and encouraged me to let him add it to his publication. The owner of the pub then championed that article and promoted the holy heck out of it. The original editor also continued to leave me kind, encouraging notes when it did well. 

That piece became my highest earner, and I owe that to the team behind that pub. This particular editor is also among the friendliest and most considerate I've ever interacted with on Medium. He's always cool about it when he does decide to reject a submission, and he's a total professional. So the writer who told him off really stepped in it, as Medium editors tend to know one another and talk behind the scenes. If you want to get ahead as a writer -- on Medium or anywhere else -- don't be like that writer. Be gracious, be teachable, and keep points like the following in mind.

Rejections are normal, common, and happen to everyone. 

Listen, I get it. It never feels good to work up the courage to show your work to someone and ask them to publish it only to have them say they're not interested or, worse, to rip it apart. But it comes with the territory when you hope to be published by someone other than yourself. Even writers like Stephen King have stories about the many rejection letters they've gotten over the years, so yes. It really does happen to everyone.

How Do You Know Whether You Can "Make It" as a Writer?

Many writers out there who specialize in content that helps others be better people are super friendly and really hands-on as far as forming a personal connection with their readers. They're good about answering their email promptly and always have a minute to chat over instant message. In other words, they're experts at forming friendships with the people who read their things. As you may or may not have noticed, I'm really not one of those writers.

One of the criticisms I've received most consistently from people who know me is that I'm distant and hard to get to know, and I really can't argue with that assessment. I'm not kidding in the least when I describe myself as introverted to the point of being reclusive. I've never been a very chatty person as far as one-on-one communication goes, even on the internet. However, I've been trying to make up for that by posting more content that directly answers some of the questions people ask me the most. 

Aside from how to get started as a writer in the first place, this is by far the question I'm asked the most often. Chances are you already know the answer deep down, but if you genuinely don't, get honest with yourself as to how you'd answer the following questions.

Do you genuinely like writing, or do you just want to have written something?

I assure you they're not the same thing. I've known so many people who love the idea of having published books or a successful blog to point to but don't really enjoy the act of writing. So, how do you feel about it? When you find yourself with spare time on your hands, is your natural response to go, "oh, good, I can do some writing," or do you spend the next several hours of your life binge-watching Netflix like everyone else? Is writing something that brings you joy or a chore that you secretly dread?