I came of age during the Tumblr era. I’d spend hours a day reblogging sad quotes and carefully taking pictures of myself to fit a particular aesthetic. If you were online back then, you know the one. One of the most fun parts of the website was the question box. I’d beg people to ask me things (usually without much luck). The same goes for Formspring, an anonymous question site that everyone at my high school loved. For better or worse, I couldn’t stay away. Fifteen years later, I still love a good Q&A. I solicited questions from my Substack and Instagram followers and picked a few to answer below. If you have anything for me that I didn’t cover, feel free to leave a note in the comments.
How do you make writing a career? For me, it’s in the seemingly dull assignments. I don’t spend much time talking about my regular work because it feels boring and supremely unsexy. Still, it provides a level of security that allows me time to pursue passion projects. Some writers live the dream where they’re only taking on work that personally excites them, but it’s a grind for a lot of us. And that’s nothing to be ashamed of! Copywriting isn’t as glamorous as writing books for a living or making a living solely on Substack, but it’s useful work. And if you’re interested in opportunities, Binder Full of Editors Seeking Their Freelance Writers is a fantastic Facebook group. Study Hall is a great newsletter — it’s paywalled, so I’d recommend giving it a month to see if you find it valuable.
I’m scared of giving birth — any tips? The first time I gave birth, I’d mentally reserved the last month of pregnancy to really fret about it, but my water broke four weeks early, so I ran out of time. The second time, I had a scheduled C-section, and the date was imprinted on my brain for months. I knew what to expect, but there are so many variables that even the most well thought-out plan can go sideways. Once, I cried so hard that I nearly hyperventilated. I felt like I was losing it, but big emotions are more common than I realized. Even through my fear, I managed to feel prepared on the day of.
So what worked? I hired a doula, which was a financial investment but one I’d make again and again. I wasn’t picky about how I gave birth, other than wanting all the pain meds available, but knowing your preferences can help you advocate for yourself while receiving care. Even if you don’t have a doula, finding a birth plan template online can bring peace of mind. I also found myself repeating, “The only way out is through” — yes, it was scary, but I had no other choice. The baby was coming out, one way or another. I found it weirdly comforting. Packing my hospital bag also helped calm me down. So much was out of my control, but prepping made me feel better. Lastly! Therapy! It worked wonders in the days leading up to birth and the weeks after.
Do you have tips for working on your first manuscript? First, congratulations! That’s so exciting. I’m so terribly far from being an expert, but I can share what got me to the finish line. This is one of those things where you could ask five people and get ten opinions, so your mileage may vary.
I know many writers use Microsoft Word or Google Docs, but I ended up finding Scrivener, and it was much more pleasant for me. There’s a free trial, so you can try it out to see if you like it. When I was done, I exported the whole file as a Word doc and sent it in. I’m also a big fan of outlines. I wrote down a basic description of each chapter, along with a few key points I hoped to make, which helped keep me focused. I’m prone to tangents, but I knew I didn’t want to stray too far from my proposal. One more thing: I sat down with my manuscript almost every day for several weeks. Sometimes, I only wrote fifty words. Other days, I couldn’t find anything to say. But the practice of committing to the work and engaging with it regularly made me a better writer.
Okay, I lied. This is the last thing! On the days when I grasped for words but found none, I would wonder why I was writing a book, anyway. I quickly learned that one day could feel brilliant, like I’d found a divine calling, and the next would be filled with the misery of writer’s block. To paraphrase Rachael Herron, you just have to keep showing up and believe you’re capable of producing something meaningful — beautiful, even.
Would you ever go back to an in-person 9-to-5? Funnily enough, this has been on my mind lately. I quit my job in March 2019, so I’ve been self-employed for more than six years. At the height of it, especially when my influencing career was flourishing, I would’ve laughed at the idea of returning to traditional work. Recently, I’ve been thinking about full-time stability — regular paychecks, retirement matching, and paid leave — and wondering whether my current path is sustainable in the long term. Of course, plenty of people manage this just fine. But two kids are expensive!
My hesitancy stems from the loss of flexibility. If one of my kids is sick, I take off and don’t have to notify a boss. When my daughter has a school event, I go without worrying about the time away from work. I love the idea of being the parent who’s present at every field trip. But there are trade-offs, regardless of the choice you make. I have no idea what my life will look like in a year. Terrifying? Yes. Thrilling? Depends on the day.
How do you navigate the difference in religion between you and your family? And how does your religious upbringing impact you and your parenting? For anyone unaware, I was raised in a Christian denomination that asks women to refrain from wearing pants or cutting their hair, along with believing you must speak in tongues and be baptized to go to heaven. If I have my way, my kids will look confused when someone mentions hell or the rapture – I want the ideas to be foreign to them. And my daughter won’t ever look in the mirror and wonder whether her outfit caused a man to sin. It’s hard to find the words to describe how much this has affected me. Even today, at 31 years old, I have nightmares about burning for eternity. I want my children to have a curiosity toward all religions and worldviews. My upbringing has made me more open; I now question everything. If I have my way, they’ll do the same.
Although my family and I don’t see everything the same way, I’m still very close to them. I’m sure that plenty of people in my shoes have different stories, which makes me grateful for my experience. I still have upwards of two dozen relatives who are active in the church, and there aren’t any notable rifts or many awkward moments, which is a gift. Sure, I’ve had people ask me whether I’ll return to the “truth,” but in the grand scheme of things, it’s been tame. I do wonder whether the way I raise my children will elicit raised eyebrows from the people I grew up with, but I’m confident that I’m making the right choice for my family.
When are you moving out of Florida? Boy, I've got the post for you! The summary, in case you're not in the mood to read: I have a complicated relationship with this state, and I find myself daydreaming about life elsewhere, especially when I see other people leaving. But there's a lot keeping me here. My entire family. The roads I've memorized over the past three decades. A sense of familiarity that I'm sure I could find elsewhere but feels impossible to lose. Also, regarding the political landscape — isn't the whole country Florida now, if you really think about it? Don't get me wrong, I'm still jealous of you blue-staters — but we all live in hell now! Depressing, I know. My home isn't perfect, but it's mine nonetheless. Side note: If you're protesting this weekend, I'm cheering you on from Tampa — stay safe!
Thank you for addressing the religion question. I have been impressed with the obvious love you and your family have for each other, which must contain an immense amount of respect for each other's beliefs. Friends have left similar religions and have absolutely no relationship with their family members and harassment that continued for years.