Why I won’t quit my day job, even though it means I’ll never finish my novel
A writer colleague, Jena Ball, who also works in the educational space, sent me 30 Startup Lessons Learned in EdTech by Jawwad Siddiqui.
I think Lesson #2 hits the mark:
Other than not-for-profit ventures, I believe the rest […] don’t have a viable business model.
And without a viable business model, there is no way to become at least self-sustainable. I’ve been thinking about this in the contexts of reverting to freelancing, quitting Google because ten years is a long time, writing more of my own stuff and selling it, creating cool mobile apps, doing art, writing and recording music, turning pond plants into a business, riding a dirt bike to the top of Everest, going back to school…
The current business model for those kinds of things is to start them on borrowed money, throw them out to the masses, drain your energy promoting your stuff on social media, and hope you are the one in a million who lands a hit. Most startups fail, usually to the tune of considerable financial loss to the founders. I see it happening every day.
A more traditional model is to work a day job — if you are fortunate, an interesting one — and pursue your passion in your spare time, land an agent or license to an established company, hire on with a contracting house; basically, get the attention of an entity that has money, infrastructure, and know-how to do everything except the writing/teaching/your-passion-thing for you. This succeeds occasionally, but most folks will continue to work their day job and pursue their passion in their spare time. I see this happening every day, too.
Let me make this clear, the choice is not a moral one. Different people in different situations choose different paths with different results, both financially as well as in satisfaction and happiness.
I don’t know what a financially more viable business model would be — if I did, I’d be implementing it, probably with moderate success, then write a best-selling how-to-book and use the royalties to fund a 4-hour work week and my Great American Novel.
But let’s be real, I am risk-averse (a nice word for saying I’m a coward) and tend to choose security and moderate success over potential fulfillment/glory/fame/riches. There are pragmatic reasons, too. I have dependents, health needs, little self confidence, and I stink at promoting myself. I am good at one thing: Writing.
While my personal projects are in eternal limbo, my day job lets me work on projects that reach more people than I ever could on my own, and occasionally, I get to do Really Cool Stuff with Really Cool People.
As for readers: Take a look at Lesson #14…and of course, buy the book.