The Day Job

My typical self-introduction.

Other person: "You're working on a book? So how do you pay the bills?"

Me: "Uhm...."*brain hits panic button* 

RED ALERT! RUN SOCIAL DEFELCTION SIGMA!

There's a bit of social stigma for the writer or freelance artist; an unstable wage is a 'no-no' in modern American. The golden standard for my generation is being able to live on your own, regularly met any college bills, insurance copays for health and car, and start building an emergency fund. When you're starting out, that kind of cash follow doesn't happen (unless your paying audience literally jumps through your window.)

A day job is common sense. It protects your wallet and your pride. A day job is safe.

I'm living dangerously.

Migraines are no fun for anyone, particularly if you want steady work. The problem isn't that I'm unskilled or educated. Effectively, I have two bodies and brains that randomly swap out. One hour, I'm pruning a pear tree, chatting about cider blends. The next, I'm hiding in my pillow nest groaning as the room spins.

I've tried to find payed work – even volunteer work to pad my resumee. I've hunted on my own and with the Department of Vocational Rehabilitation. However, in spite of my grades, character recommendations and brains, employers just don't get back with me.

I get it, really. I mean, I'm an insurance drain at best and a workplace hazard at worst. That doesn't change the fact that I'm living off Disability Income.

There is no good way to admit that at a networking mixer. It's also an opening for people to try to 'fix' you. The conversation veers away from my writing to snake oil treatments, political and economy views, and even my moral fiber.

Plus, I live in Oklahoma. What's makes Republicans more frustrated than an unemployed adult under 30? An unemployed adult living off tax-payer money.

Now, you'd think that a storyteller could find some creative and non-awkward introduction. Unfortunately, I have over three years of engineer training working against me. Down playing facts makes things go boom. I can't bluff or lie worth beans.

Fortunately, my little sister took Lisa mercy on me. She was the middle child growing up that means years of practice managing the attention hogging eldest and youngest. She is now a PR and marketing specialist. I use words like a gem cutter's would use tools. She uses words like a Judo Sensei.

After knocking me around the head for letting strangers decide my lifestyle is shameful, Lisa worked her magic.

“Think of it as having a government sponsorship to focus on writing.”

...I could work with that.

“You're working on a book? So how do you pay the bills?”

Now I grinned and answer, “I have a federal grant for the advancement of Arts and Humanities through humorous dragon stories.”

(PR and Marketing: If you can't change the product, find a better display case.)