500 Days
Today marks 500 days since launching into the business of Chicken House Press full time.
500 days since anyone has made a decision for me.
500 days since my mission was last determined by a corporation.
500 days since a “real” pay cheque.
500 days of freedom and stress and joy and fear and affirmation.
I’m not surprised that I’m here. There was no other choice for me. Not really. I was unhappy in my work life, I believed in the side-hustle I’d been running myself ragged to keep viable, and my family and I had used the pandemic lock down to renovate a shed into a workspace for me, upgrading my office from less than 80 square feet to over 300 and it begged to be taken seriously.
Here are my major truths:
I am wildly proud of what I am building.
I am sleeping better than I have in years.
I am more present with my family.
Sometimes I miss having someone just tell me what to do.
I am tired.
I am happy.
Here are my major accomplishments:
I’ve gone international (!) and currently serve authors from Canada, the US, and the UK.
I’ve turned down a major LA agency who wanted film rights to one of my projects and I’ve been in gentle talks with a charming boutique (women led!) NYC production company about a potential Amazon Prime script.
One of my authors has been shortlisted for a $10k emerging writer prize.
I have not skipped paying myself even once.
I feel as afraid today as I did on day one - not because I have any doubts, but because everything is my responsibility and that’s a heavy load.
One of my current editing clients was searching for a title for her book and a line from within her manuscript popped out to me: Everything, all the time, is constantly up to me. I (somewhat) jokingly highlighted the statement and added the comment that “this should be the title!” She agreed with me. (Everything, All The Time, Is Constantly Up to Me is releasing on June 13, 2023.)
This title sums up my whole 500 day existence. It is exhausting to be in charge of your own success. I admit that I have stood at a coffee shop counter and gazed at the teenager taking my order and thought, how lucky that they just show up, stick that ugly visor on their head, do as they’re told, then go home and eat the dinner their mother made them.
I don’t want to work at a coffee shop - let me be clear - but decision fatigue is real and I think it might be the hardest part of my job.
What I thought vs reality:
I thought I would have more free time and a clean house. I don’t.
I thought I would cook better, more interesting meals. I don’t.
I thought I would take time to garden. Ha!
I worried it would be too easy to sleep in and be lazy. It’s not.
I thought I might get lonely. I don’t.
People have suggested envy of this path I’ve chosen. “You’re doing it!” they say. “It must be so nice to work for yourself.”
It is. It’s also really hard and requires daily purpose and intention and systems and a willingness to put in a lot of hours that don’t see financial return (yet). I bought Timothy Ferriss’ book, The 4-Hour Workweek, but I haven’t brought myself to even crack the cover because a deep part of me is fed by working hard. I don’t want a four hour work week. When I say I am tired, what I mean is that I am so overwhelmingly fulfilled by what I am doing that I am working harder than I’ve ever worked in my life while still maintaining most weekends and evenings to be with my family. To me, that is a measure of success I am wildly proud of.
As I look ahead to the next 500 days, I am setting higher goals in order to get closer to my higher vision. Sustainability is going to be my focus, education will continue being a value, making space for my own personal creative projects will become a fresh priority, and working towards building a small staff will never be far from my mind. I have high hopes and big intentions and if my stubbornness and tenacity has taught me anything it is that where there is a will, there is certainly a way.
In the words of Andy Bernard as Alexander the Great (if he were Cockney): “Nothing is impossible to him who will try.”
