BURNOUT (2020-2024)
The mid 2018-late 2019 period is pretty dim. I was only unemployed for a month, during which I started streaming on Twitch. I got a temp job that quickly moved to full time, and by February 2019, I was in a great position that I saw myself in for a long while (spoiler alert; I was, until I wasn’t.) It was in music publishing administration, again an offline position, clerical. A small team, lots of data processing and management, and I gradually moved from more processing to more management over the course of my time there.
I kept chainmailing and writing, trying to get The Deadly Studies completed. The tenth novella released in September 2019, with the second volume coming at the beginning of 2020.
We all remember what happened in 2020. March 11, I believe, was the day management came onto the floor and said everyone needed to be out of the building within 90 minutes, but an hour would be better. Take your computers unless you planned to use a personal computer. Take anything personal you wanted at home.
Honestly, that would have been a very ideal time for me to enter a second golden age of writing. I was free of projects, having completed The Deadly Studies but… I’d been cranking those novellas out at the rate of 3 a year for 3 years, plus the time before the first release. So call it 4 years, pushing toward 5.
I was burned out. Completely. I tried doing some editing of stuff I’d previously written, but my passion and heart weren’t there. It felt… forced.
It was sometime in early 2021 that I finally confessed to myself that I was afraid I was burned out and might never write again.
It was in mid-to-late 2022 when I accepted I was done as an author. Life was okay. I had gotten a townhouse (thanks, Covid housing market!) and was still very focused on chainmail. I was more into gaming again, which I hadn’t really been through a lot of my golden age of writing. I had my friends and their kids. I was working from home and it was glorious. I missed writing, but I’d come to terms with being past that part of my life.
Turned out… words weren’t done with me.
The mid 2018-late 2019 period is pretty dim. I was only unemployed for a month, during which I started streaming on Twitch. I got a temp job that quickly moved to full time, and by February 2019, I was in a great position that I saw myself in for a long while (spoiler alert; I was, until I wasn’t.) It was in music publishing administration, again an offline position, clerical. A small team, lots of data processing and management, and I gradually moved from more processing to more management over the course of my time there.
I kept chainmailing and writing, trying to get The Deadly Studies completed. The tenth novella released in September 2019, with the second volume coming at the beginning of 2020.
We all remember what happened in 2020. March 11, I believe, was the day management came onto the floor and said everyone needed to be out of the building within 90 minutes, but an hour would be better. Take your computers unless you planned to use a personal computer. Take anything personal you wanted at home.
Honestly, that would have been a very ideal time for me to enter a second golden age of writing. I was free of projects, having completed The Deadly Studies but… I’d been cranking those novellas out at the rate of 3 a year for 3 years, plus the time before the first release. So call it 4 years, pushing toward 5.
I was burned out. Completely. I tried doing some editing of stuff I’d previously written, but my passion and heart weren’t there. It felt… forced.
It was sometime in early 2021 that I finally confessed to myself that I was afraid I was burned out and might never write again.
It was in mid-to-late 2022 when I accepted I was done as an author. Life was okay. I had gotten a townhouse (thanks, Covid housing market!) and was still very focused on chainmail. I was more into gaming again, which I hadn’t really been through a lot of my golden age of writing. I had my friends and their kids. I was working from home and it was glorious. I missed writing, but I’d come to terms with being past that part of my life.
Turned out… words weren’t done with me.
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