“Nothing I like to do pays well” part 2
mid-week thoughts on this idea
The subject line of this email was from Charles Portis and I used it this past weekend as the quote of the roundup of things I was reading.
But I was in a conversation last night about identity and where we derive it from, and then the many parts of our identity.
And I couldn’t help thinking that I derived a lot of my identity in my 20s by not having much money.
Like actively not having any or trying to get much.
That has definitely changed (children! creature comforts!) but it was also a thing of simplicity for me.
A big influence on me was Richard Foster and his book on simplicity.
I re-read the Simplicity chapter in the Celebration of Discipline recently and it struck me how far off I was1.
He doesn’t prescribe asceticism just for the legalism of it or as a point of pride.
Otherwise, you’re just like the hypocritical pharisees letting everyone know how much they pray and how much they fast.
But there’s a real balance in caring for your family vs potentially making money the idol of all things.
But…
I read this profile of the billionaire activist Bill Ackman and it noted that he always wanted to be a businessman.
I never had that.
One of my earliest memories was being at a bookstore and me picking up an art history book and my dad telling me not to waste my money. (GUESS WHO’S A MEMBER AT THE WHITNEY NOW)
So I never wanted to be businessman.
But I don’t think I really wanted to make money either.
Some people write to make money (bestsellers, copywriting) but one of my earliest novel proposals to an agent was formatted like an experimental magazine.
The agent was kind but obviously didn’t pick it up.
The things I was fascinated with wouldn’t make me money. So perhaps it was easy for me to slide into “simplicity” as an identity because it came easier to me.
Is that a gift? Or just ducking the smoke, the heat of the money-making battle?
I don’t know.
During college, I seriously considered going to a Christian commune.
On the run-up to graduation, I told everyone I wanted to work at a deli counter in like St. Louis. Never mind that I didn’t have a particular deli in mind and that I’d only been to St. Louis like 2 times. I thought it was a funny, off-putting thing to say (and now I see it as insensitive to those who do pursue a career in this).
There can be great joy in working at a deli, as I’m learning from my NYC environs, but somewhat counter-cultural to my classmates graduating from a top 20 university. (And potentially a bad choice considering the student loans I had).
Should have invested in me?
A funny idea I had once was that people should invest in me like stock based on my potential.
Things didn’t look good at first. Beyond my initial deli idea, I was an AmeriCorps volunteer, then I taught one semester at a private Catholic school, and then had a string of temporary jobs.
During my 20s in the 2000s, I think I only had one job that paid more than $30k and I specifically told a group of men that I may never make more than that.
My dad brought this up the other day when he noted that I had done alright for myself.
It’s true. I am not a billionaire, nor do I have a huge amazing salary. I do make more than $30k per year now. By some income measures, I am in the top 20 percent of income brackets (not the New York City ones lol).
He said he was glad he invested in me (lol).
…but I would prefer to be an experimental novelist…
I think this is still true. But I’ll be honest, I do enjoy my lifestyle.
For most people, being an experimental novelist and having a good salary don’t add up in the traditional writing sense.
It recently hit me that even literary heroes like David Foster Wallace still taught in the middle of nowhere Illinois.
Do I like my career?
Yes, I do. I’ve leveraged my writing skills into something I didn’t fully expect.
Would I rather be an experimental novelist and make the same amount of money?
I think that’s yes, too.
Do I prefer offbeat literary readings and punk rock music festivals to a gala? Absolutely, yes.
Keep going,
-Josh Spilker
I am planning on re-reading the Freedom of Simplicity this year, too.