On Bartending and Writing

When asked what other jobs they’ve had, novelists usually have an oddball list. They may dream of job security and a health plan by night, but by day they are seduced by interesting experiences, diverse characters, a bit of income, and the flexibility to write.

Most of my jobs have had to do with writing, though. Shame inspired me.

My first husband, Ron, a bar manager with a keen sense of what his time was worth in cash, called my writing my “volunteer work.” This maddened me because I was a newspaper dance critic and always paid—although at the peak of this career, writing some 50 articles per year, I managed to pull in no more than $2,500. My husband could make the bulk of that tending bar on New Year’s Eve alone.

To preserve my self-respect as much as to show Ron I could do it, I had to find a way to use my writing skills to bring in more respectable money.

So I started a desktop publishing business, producing newsletters, custom-designed written communications, and resumes for businesses and non-profits. I thrived on the diversity and flexibility of the work, as it allowed me to stay involved with my school-age sons while tucking in the laundry and other chores.

This flexibility proved vital to my family’s survival when, two years into this proud display of my writing’s worth, Ron committed suicide.

The work sustained me an additional six years while I re-sorted my motivations and priorities. I had to maximize the use of my time—not just the hours in a day, but the days that would add up to my life.

Once remarried to Dave, who was more supportive, I felt called to a higher purpose with my writing.

First, I left the paper. After 19 years, I decided I wouldn’t write for such low pay any more. That worked well: I’ve basically written for free ever since, powering up new skills as a novelist.

Then, too distracted by its multitasking nature to write, I closed my business. I thought, with conferences and classes and concentrated effort, I could sell a novel within a couple of years. Who knew it might take ten years to get the agent that could usher me to the starting line of a paid career?

As the years dragged on it got harder and harder to look Dave in the eye. Yet I was so close I could taste success. I couldn’t quit now—but I had to find a way to fund what was now a serious writing habit.


Harnessing my analytical nature, the skills I’d honed as a critic, my love of (and two degrees in) teaching, my lifelong love of reading, and an intense self-education in story craft, I started Writing-Partner.com, my developmental editing service.


Over the past six years, through editing, speaking, and hosting writing retreats for women, I've once again made money to support my writing—just not enough to impress my younger son. In his college application essay he cited both Ron and me as negative influences: he would never allow hidden financial woes to drag him into a life-ending depression, as he sensed happened with his alcoholic father, and he would never acquire a master’s degree and countless years of continuing education only to work for peanuts, like his mother.


Ah well, we can’t always control the ways in which we inspire our children to their own heights.


But I’m pretty sure he’s noticed one thing: turning long, dreaded hours into cash by serving cocktails did not sustain his father. I, on the other hand, do work that feeds my soul. Each afternoon I sit by a sunny downstairs window, nurturing the development of another writer, so I might earn the right to spend the following morning at the computer in my loft office, writing stories that inspire others to think about what makes life worth living. My writing uses every single one of my natural and developed talents. I feel plugged in.


Yes, I still make less than Ron did as a bartender, and yes, I hope that my agent can sell my book and that its sales will one day improve my lot.

But for me, the most important thing is that I love my life and I’m here to write about it—and that’s priceless.

What kind of odd jobs have you held to support your writing habit?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kathryn Craft is a developmental editor at Writing-Partner.com, an independent manuscript evaluation and line editing service. Her women's fiction and memoir are represented by Katie Shea at the Donald Maass Literary Agency. The first chapter of her memoir, Standoff at Ronnie's Place, modified as a stand-alone essay, was published online by Mason's Road, the online journal of Fairfield University's MFA program. She blogs about Healing through Writing.