Welcome back, ghoulies! I remain committed to this glorious, once-monthly newsletter — just don't look at July. Because July? Was a mess.
If you know anything about the publishing industry, you know that only a small percentage of authors can comfortably live on their book income alone. Some have an employed partner who can carry the bulk of the budget. Others close the financial gaps by sheer output, writing multiple books a year. Very few can do it Susan Collins-style, writing the books they want in the time they want to do it.
For the rest of us, there are a lot of different ways we have to make it work. We work full-time jobs and fit writing in where we can. We pick up work-for-hire/IP/book packaging projects. We offer editorial services. We take on contracting work or part-time jobs. The churn of capitalism doesn't allow us the privilege of space to create.
Without getting too into the specifics, my family has been among many that saw our financial situation backslide over the past year or so. I've been hustling for a while to bring in more to help out with the budget, and in June, it felt like I had an opportunity to do just that. A chance to turn my hourly contract work into a job offering a salaried income.
It's important to note that it's summertime, and I'm the primary caretaker for our kids. I had multiple other deadlines and projects on my plate for July, August and September that I had signed contracts on. Most of these projects weren't paying anything yet; they were investments in my future career (which is the catch-22 of so many authors and writers out there). But I told myself I could juggle everything, primarily because doing otherwise felt like the selfish choice. Choosing the tenuous, messy life of a working creative over a more predictable, stable option would be putting myself over the needs of my family. I told myself I could say yes and just power through a few wildly busy months. No problem.
It began to fall apart almost immediately. I was constantly stressed and frantic and irritable, to the point that my children absorbed it and started sleeping badly and having emotional outbursts. I wasn't doing anything very well, and I fell behind on all my projects so badly that I had to stay home from a weekend getaway with my family to spend a frantic, three-day stretch trying to make up ground.
By the end of just one month, I broke. I stopped eating, my skin hurt all over — telltale signs that I was heading into a depressive valley. I went back to my employers and arranged to go back to contract work.
I have been given wells of understanding and support from those around me, but personally I'm still struggling to think on it without embarrassment and deep feelings of failure. To quiet the voice that says, You should have been able to make it work. You gave up too soon. You're a quitter. You were in such a privileged position and still whiffed it. You were selfish and never really committed to the change.
Some of that might be true. I am notoriously bad with change and adapting. But I am also one among many creatives constantly trapped inside crossroads like this, pulled in a dozen directions, sacrificing our bodies, our mental health, our time to make the pieces fit. Maybe it would be different if those who stay at home to take care of children, elderly parents, loved ones, who do the unseen work that supports our society were valued and paid for their labor. Maybe it would be different if the labor of artists, authors, creatives was seen as labor and not constantly treated as a dismissible or frivolous hobby.
But we haven't achieved that level of society yet. We have a machine that doesn't see human beings; it sees only productivity, only consumable output.
Did this personal essay devolve into an anti-capitalist rant? Yes, yes, it did. You're welcome? Honestly, if you're subscribed to this newsletter but are not okay with anti-capitalism, I've got bad news for you when it comes to all my future books.
Stay safe out there, ghoulies.
Favorite Lines I’ve Written in the Past Month
With as Little Context as Possible
“You help me get to the Basilica, and I will pay you…” She hesitated, biting her bottom lip.
It took everything in Aden not to laugh out loud. She obviously had no idea what to offer, no concept of the actual value of paper because she’d never had to think about it. What a privilege to be so oblivious. “Go on, skyliner. How much will you pay me?”
“One hundred—”
Aden shook their head, looking disappointed.
“Two hundred—”
Aden sighed, starting to turn away.
“Four hundred!” she said quickly.
“Done.” One hundred would’ve been more than enough, but who were they to deny this skyliner the opportunity to be so charitable?
How I’m Entertaining Myself
Reading
I'm in between books at the moment, but I'm excited about two that just came in. My copy of House of the Beast by Michelle Wong has just arrived; I met Michelle during one of the last Pitch Wars contests and was just blown away by her incredible talent, so I'm so amped to get to read her debut. On top of that, my library hold for Star-Spangled Jesus: Leaving Christian Nationalism and Finding a True Faith by April Ajoy just came in, and that should be an interesting read. I am no longer religious, but the intersection of political and religious cults and extremism is a topic I'm often drawn to.
Watching
I honestly haven't been watching much. We're starting to implement family movie nights on Saturdays and kicked it off with Moana 2. I think this next one will be K-Pop Demon Hunters. My kids love k-pop, and the movie's album on Spotify has peaked their interest.
Playing
Video games continue to be my primary brain-off, unwind activity, and I'm hurtling toward the end of Baldur's Gate 3. It's funny — every time I start a new RPG game, I initially am ambivalent about the game and the companions and pretty sure it won't measure up to the previous game I played. And then, by the end, I'm standing there, surrounded by pixel people, yelling, "THESE ARE MY PRECIOUS BLORBOS, YOU WILL NOT SPEAK ILL OF THEM."
The Bloody and the Damned releases April 7, 2026.
Add on Goodreads or Storygraph. Preorder now at Macmillan or Bookshop, or order from indie bookstores like these:
That's all for now! Thank you again for subscribing. Here's where you can find me lollygagging around in the meantime: