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August 2021

This issue contains words about investing in myself.

“Work is work is work. What you do does not define who you are.”
- Gail Vaz-Oxlade

On Work, Writing and Wasting Money.

There’s a really annoying thing that happens when you tell people you’re a writer. They’ll usually respond with something like, “Oh, cool! That’s your job?” and then things get super awkward as you carefully climb down from the pedestal you’ve set yourself upon and declare that while you identify as a writer, you pay the bills with nannying. Or stocking shelves at a grocery store. Or serving tables at a diner. Or whatever it is that you do to keep food in your mouth and your computer charged. Years of building community have taught me that very few writers have writing as a full-time job.* 

I’ve babysat my entire life. It started when I was 11, watching the kids on my street when their moms wanted to go out dancing. Moving from a small town to a big city, I quickly found a gig looking after children a few times a week in between my classes. The day that I decided to drop out of the University of Toronto, a neighbourhood mom joked, 
 

“Any chance you’d take night classes and be my nanny?” 

I responded, “Any chance I can just be your nanny?”

And then I was her nanny for two years. I went on to be a bunch of other people’s nanny, too. It makes me dizzy to consider that kids I have nannied are now 18, but also three. Thus is the life of a perpetual stroller pusher! A professional baby friend!

Cute job descriptions aside, nannying is gruelling work. The hours are long, tasks neverending, and some children can be really challen
ging.† Plus, it’s not the most satisfying job. While it’s great to see the tiny humans in front of you grow, there isn’t a lot of room for personal growth. Luckily, I had my writing. 

Writing has always been something I’ve been drawn to. One of the few positive memories I have of elementary school is making what I now recognize as my first ever zine, a stapled-together-sort-of-storybook that included a handwritten narrative and accompanying illustrations. My book had something to do with a bird and a farmer, and while I don’t remember how the tale unfolds I do remember that it was called The Golden Feather, and my teacher, Mrs. Clark, with her blunt cut gold-copper bob, looked me in the eye as she hung it on the wall and told me she really enjoyed my writing and thought I was talented. 

I wish I could say that I’d been writing passionately ever since, that that was the moment. Who knows what opus I could’ve created! But it’s taken time for me to commit fully to my craft. A lot of energy between the ages of 9 and 29 went into surviving; moving out of my parents’ abusive household, learning about my Major Depressive Disorder, battling a predisposition for addiction and unlearning the core belief that I was unlovable. 

It’s only been in the last few years that I’ve come to realize how important writing is to me. While working these nannying jobs I’ve written and released three IRL issues of Strange and Mysterious Creatures, and this is number 17 of the digital issues. In that timeframe I’ve also been published in a handful of other places.

Since September 2020, I’ve been on EI. I was laid off from my nannying gig, and with the pandemic there have been a lot of limitations in finding a new family to work for. Once again I’ve been lucky to have my writing. The past 12 months have given me the opportunity to focus on my passion, to role-play being a writer. (I’ve also been unpacking a lot of childhood trauma.

Last month, my therapist asked me what I would do with my life if I had no limitations. I knew in a heartbeat what my answer was: “I’d go back to school for writing.” Over the session I provided her with a laundry list of reasons why I couldn’t do such a thing, and she gently prodded me to approach the idea with curiosity and to look into it. Before our second session that week, I applied to take creative writing at Capilano University in North Vancouver. 

Talking it over, it emerged that my biggest fear was not being rejected from the program but that attending it would be a waste of money. I’ve been ascribed for a long time to the idea that studying writing at an institution is extravagant, especially when one takes on debt to do so. While there has been value in this mindset - I’ve worked my butt off as a self-taught writer - it has limited me from pursuing something that brings me the deepest level of life satisfaction.

When I got accepted to the program, the following week my therapist summed up my situation with a simple question - “What else are you going to do?” 

When it comes down to it, my choices were to continue to look for another childcare gig or follow through on this whirlwind scheme to go back to school - and I really did not want to give up my routine of writing and healing. So, I’m going back to school next month. 

Will it be a waste of money? Possibly. 

Will I have to return to nannying at some point? Likely. 

Do I accept these things for a chance to prioritize my craft for a few years? Sure, why not.


*And usually if they do they also teach writing classes BUT let’s not split hairs here!
†But, even the bitchiest of toddlers are nicer than some adults.
NEWS + NOTES
 
You may have noticed that this email has a fresh new look! So does my website! Very pleased with how pretty everything turned out and hopeful that it will all be less maintenance while I transition into my studies. 

AS ALWAYS muchos gracias to Cosette Schulz for her editin' eyes.

Who is this from??


EA Douglas is a soon-to-be student of Capilano University's Creative Writing Program. She's considering buying a secondhand iPad so she can keep Instagram off her phone. Until then she'll be repeatedly deleting and reinstalling the app so you might as well follow her - @ea.douglas.

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