How I spent Christmas Day

I wrote the following after this opening paragraph on Christmas Day, and, typical for me, didn't just say "it's done" and post it, but let it sit idle. Ironic, considering this post is about the tension in my life between productivity and being a slacker. One of my plans for 2016 is to not do that; to write and publish more often with less overanalyzing. So I will say that I finished the puzzle two days after Christmas, a group effort, and felt immensely satisfied and in awe of the beauty of the photo and the bridge. That kind of determination to sit and focus and get it done is what I need to bring to my work, not tomorrow or next week or next year, but immediately. Today I head home and will spend this week wrapping up my final 2015 bylines and tasks and preparing to start the new year proudly. Friday I will use accounting software for the first time in my life, which feels shameful to admit, but better late than never. I will be working from my mostly bookless office, which the books are all packed up, and maybe that will be a source of comfort, to go back to basics, to work without so many potential distractions for a week or so. I also finished listening to Millennial and it both made me wish, in some ways, that I was a Millennial, with all my adult life ahead of me, and made me realize I need to work on my life in big and small ways so that I know my worth, and value it, like she does. And now, the post...

For some reason, this week spent at my boyfriend's parents' house, full of food and family and gifts and vacation, has been one where I've felt inspired to be productive, which I haven't felt the last few weeks. I've felt frantic and behind and unstable and, frankly, afraid that I wasn't cut out to work for myself. But somewhere along the way from New Jersey to Virginia, that changed. I wrote 5 articles for Salon, blogged a bit, made plans for future articles and essays and book promotions, got chills listening to the Millennial podcast because I recognized so many of my own deep fears about following my artistic dreams, something that still holds me back to this day but that I'm trying to shed. I think that something about being here has made me feel just a little less pressure, even though I have deadlines and pitches I want to get out and all the usual stressful to do list tasks. I worked with editors this week, but I also allowed myself a little break, and am trying not to over schedule my next few weeks because I am packing to move and getting ready to launch my most important anthology that I have such high high hopes for, and then going to Los Angeles and San Francisco to teach workshops and do a reading.

That doesn't come easily for me; I feel like the supreme slacker who won't be able to pay my rent if I am not working all the time, which could mean simply plotting in my head how I will go about earning my next dollar. I have no steady income, and this year, along with some amazing, pinch me opportunities I will always be grateful for, I also saw a newspaper I wrote my first ever weekly column for close, a steady writing contract end, and a lot of ups and downs. Being 40 and determined to become a mom pretty much however I can, no matter what it takes, I feel that lack of stability all the more. So trying to be successful by stepping back feels illogical, scary and wrong, but I also know that for my sanity, I have to cut myself some slack. I have to be more judicious and strategic, to learn from my mentors, from the people whose books and podcasts I admire. I am working on launching some new websites, hopefully webinars if I can figure out how to do it (webinars seem like one of those things people say are "easy," but don't realize that some of us have no clue how to do the most basic internet tasks and are too busy earning a living in other ways to learn). I know I need to do a makeover on my business structure, I just haven't had the time to delineate exactly what I want to change and how to go about that.

Today, while my boyfriend and his dad enjoy cigars I gave them, I'm doing this jigsaw puzzle of the Brooklyn Bridge, one of six puzzles I received this week. I'm thinking about how I want to end the year, how I want to begin the next one, what kind of new home office I want to create when I move in a few weeks, and how I can go after what I want while also forgiving myself if I don't get it all. But for today, this Jewish girl who's celebrating my fourth Christmas with this extra family has one goal: finish this 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle before I go home on Monday.

My new book hits stores the day I'm moving, so my January's going to be busy

I only realized after I selected my moving day of January 12th that it's also the pub day for my most important anthology I've ever edited, Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 1. Maybe that's fitting, because my last book, Dirty Dates, came out on my 40th birthday. But with under a month until I move and this book I'm so proud of entering the world, it's a bit of a hectic time. Moving throws your life into chaos, and your normal routines get upended. I've been thinking about the costs, which so far meant paying a security deposit and a month's rent in advance, and will include moving costs, but those seem minimal compared to all the time that's spent packing up our dishes and books and clothes and figuring out if we want to keep some random item we haven't used in years but still want to hold on to. Moving sucks up time and seems to expand to fill the time you previously thought of as "free," and then it does the same on the unpacking side.



If I've learned anything in the last four years of working for myself as a freelancer, it's that time is money. This year, much of my income was made by being able to say, "Yes, I'm available" at a moment's notice, or hopping on the phone at 11 p.m. to interview a source for a pop culture story unfolding over a weekend. That's an aspect of what I do that I both love and hate. If I wanted to, I could stay up writing until four in the morning, and sleep in. That's not what my daily life looks like, though. I usually am in bed by 10 or 10:30 at night and up by six, sometimes before. I probably don't use my time as wisely as I should, which is something I'm trying to change for the new year, but I certainly value it, both the time I spend actually writing, and the time it takes to send emails, make phone calls, transcribe interviews, research or simply daydream and dawdle and browse and then, through whatever synergy or luck or circumstance produces ideas, realize I've hit on a great topic for an article or essay or short story in my seemingly "mindless" mental wanderings.

Books are probably the primary thing I spend my time on: reading, rereading, browsing my bookshelves, browsing bookstores, adding items to my wishlist, perusing what's coming up or reading reviews or getting ideas for what I want to read next. The thing with me is that right now, I'm packing up my books, and since I just moved in June, I remember the painstaking process last time of packing them and then very carefully shelving them, and now I want to pull out ones to read that I either never have, or read so long ago I've largely forgotten them. I've transferred many to a shelf of "to read soon" books, because they're either advance copies of fascinating books coming out very soon or ones that I'd meant to read and just hadn't.

I'm also leaping headfirst into marketing Best Women's Erotica of the Year, Volume 1 in a way I haven't done for my previous 60 anthologies (yes, I counted, and this is my 61st anthology). I decided that one of the things I hate about putting a book out into the world is the lack of control I have over how it does. I don't mean the lack of control over how readers perceive what's inside; the reading experience is theirs to appreciate in whatever way they see fit. Of course, I hope readers are as smitten with the stories as I am, but I can't control that.

What I can control is how much effort I put into making sure I know I did everything I could to make this book a success. Right now that means trying to schedule readings, posting interviews on Tumblr with my authors (and myself), reaching out to sex toy stores and bookstores and asking them to stock it, and generally spreading the word as much as I can. I'll be sharing more excerpts and details as the book gets closer to being available for purchase. I will also be using what I learned from this anthology to craft my next one (call for submissions is coming soon!), because while there were some authors I had hoped would submit to this book and some topics and characters who aren't in this book, the ones that are stand out to me so much.

I don't want the fact that both my pub date and my move a block away coincide mean doom for either one. The truth is, I won't have as much time on January 12th to devote to promoting my book. Maybe I'll finally learn Hootsuite and Tweet ahead. I'll sneak peeks at my phone while the movers are here. I'll post a lot the day before. But the truth is, a book launch doesn't happen in one day. I've been working hard on this book for weeks in the hopes that it does better than all my previous books, because I think it's that good and I want to honor the time and effort my authors put in by giving them a wide readership. I want them to get fan mail. I want people to say, "Wow, you really brought that hot black superhero actor from the 90's to life" or "wow, I didn't know séances could be so sexy" or "You made being passed between two men sound so sexy." I wish I could do a reading with all my contributors because I would love to hear them read the stories in their own voices (although I am beyond thrilled that Rose Caraway, my favorite audiobook narrator and a contributor of to the book with her story "The Carnalarium," will be narrating the audiobook version, which should be out in the first half of 2016).

So that's where my focus is these days, in addition to wrapping up some freelance writing and trying to read a few of the many, many books that I've accumulated over the past year(s). I'm not moving far, but between turning 40, a new calendar year and changing homes, I'm trying to use these new beginnings as a chance to push myself toward new directions, to think differently not just about material goods, but about what I want from my life, my work, my home. I'm also planning what I'll be doing in 2016, which will include teaching erotica writing classes for LitReactor, speaking and teaching at CatalystCon and new things like webinars.

I want to push myself to get past that learning curve, and the attendant fear that comes with it, to try things I've never done before. After all, in 2013, when I moved in with my boyfriend, I'd lived in the same apartment for 13 years. Moving petrified me, but I did it, then did it again in 2014, 2015 and now, I will again in 2016. I wouldn't say the moves themselves were fun, but each home has taught us something, and now, I've learned that I will happily stay in my little corner of suburbia for a decade, or even forever, if it means building a stable home. So in my working life, I'm ready to try new things too, knowing full well that some of them may fail, in order for me to learn from them and figure out how to succeed next time.

Why I'm keeping my movie date tonight

Tonight I'm going to see a movie I've been wanting to see since I first heard about it: Pawn Sacrifice, about chess players Bobby Fischer and Boris Spassky. We had a busy weekend and decided to see it tonight instead. Then this morning I was both catching up with writing assignments I'd hoped to finish over the weekend and received some new ones. I'm transcribing as fast as I can and brainstorming new pitches and a little overwhelmed, as weeks like this tend to make me.



So it would be very easy to cancel the movie date. After all, we could go another night this week. But one trait I'm trying to cure myself of is the tendency to put work before everything else. Yes, on some level, my work is what allows me to eat and pay rent and all those other niceties, including going to the movies. On the other hand, I didn't even take a break to shower today and my eyes are getting that achy feeling from staring at my screen all day. I deserve a break, and have an interview scheduled for 10 p.m.

Especially as I pretty much make getting pregnant my other full-time job, or at least, my part-time job, I'm realizing that being a crazed, stressed workaholic isn't something I would ever want to pass on to a child, should I be blessed enough to ever become a mom. I don't want to fall into the trap of thinking that working more hours means working smarter or better. It doesn't. The truth is, breaks are good for my brain, not to mention my eyes and fingers and the rest of my body. They help me reframe whatever I'm working on, see sentences in new ways. They're necessary, even though I don't often treat them as such. So I will be keeping my movie date, and back at my desk in a few hours to resume writing and interviewing and transcribing. I often feel like I'm making up this freelancing thing as I go along, and the part where I learn that more hours at my desk does not necessarily mean more money earned is a lesson I will likely have to keep relearning along the way.

Putting the full time in "full time freelancer," or why I stopped writing for free

When 2015 rolled around, I realized I had to make a choice: get serious about being a full-time writer/editor/teacher, or give up. That was before I lived somewhere where you pretty much need a car to get around, and not only don't I have a car, I also don't have a driver's license. That makes the stakes even higher; even if I could theoretically find a full-time job after being out of the workforce for four years, unless it was within walking distance or on a nearby bus route, it would be hard to get to.

More than that, though, I wanted to know I had given freelancing my all. I love the work that I do, the writing personal essays, interviewing people, penning two sex columns, editing anthologies and teaching writing in person and online. I enjoy and am proud of it, but if it doesn't bring in enough income to support me and, hopefully, in the near future, a child, it's not the right job for me. It didn't take me long to figure out that one drain on my time was writing for free. I've done it plenty in the past (all those Gothamist interviews, with smart, amazing people, I didn't get paid for, as just one of many examples), but now that I'm nearing 40 and want to build both peace of mind so I'm not scrambling to make rent and a safety net, free wasn't going to work.

So I vowed not to do it, even if it meant tabling a great idea or already written essay because I couldn't find a home for it. The one exception I've made is writing for group blog Lady Smut, and I consider that more akin to blogging here, which I also don't get paid for, than freelance writing, where I'd go through the usual channels of pitching.

I'm not arguing that anyone else shouldn't work for free; that's your call, and certainly some of my early free writing later helped me get paid gigs (case in point: Thought Catalog). But with 40 breathing down my neck, and especially lately, with costs of seeing a fertility specialist, almost none of which are covered by the insurance I'm incredibly lucky to have through my domestic partner, I'm even prouder of my resolve.

The greatest impact my decision not to write for free has had is it's forced me to pitch my heart out, to pitch places I once would have thought were "beyond" me, like The New York Times. It's made me bolder in seeking out opportunities, and writing outside of my usual beats of sex, dating, books, pop culture and hoarding, about topics like travel and tech and babies. This week, I'm finishing my first piece for a site I've been reading daily and am excited about writing for. I am starting to realize that my time in a day is finite, and so is my time here on earth. I could die tomorrow and I want to be proud of what I've accomplished, but also proud that I didn't spend 24/7 working or worrying about work. That's an area where I've failed a lot this year. I've let work take over my life and hinder my relationships with my partner and with others. I've let it dominate my mind, even when the amounts of money involved were relatively small. That's what I want to try to improve on, while still continuing to find new subjects and markets, to innovate and expand.

Something I don't think people realize is the costs involved in what I do, which goes back to whether I am making the success of RKB Enterprises, Inc., my company, a priority. There's always a line; how much time and money am I willing to devote? I've largely stopped traveling for work, because it's not cost effective; my three upcoming writing workshops, October 15th in New York, October 21st in Portland, Maine and November 8th in Washington, DC, all coincide with other trips I was already taking. My main focus is on teaching online, for both LitReactor and my soon-to-launch personal writing teaching website. I'm also planning to put more effort into my consulting business, where I work with erotica writers and sex-themed nonfiction writers to craft their work.

The truth is, it's scary to not know if any of it will work out. Any day, I could wake up to find my recurring gigs have ended, nobody's responding to my pitches, nobody's buying my books and it's back to the drawing board. If that happens, I will be prepared. These past four years of freelancing have taught me that while nothing in this business is stable, I'm resourceful enough to keep seeking and looking and trying and risking. For me, being a full-time freelance will never be a 9 to 5 job, because that's just not feasible for the work that I want to accomplish, but what I do strive for is to keep improving, both how I operate, and what I believe I'm worth. I don't know what that will look like a week or a month or a year from now, but I know that I want to keep pushing myself out of my comfort zone, into new ventures and opportunities, and thereby keep learning and making it more likely that I can keep this up for four more years, and hopefully many more beyond that.

I spent my weekend topless in a backyard pool and it was heavenly

Okay, that's not entirely true: I did not spend my whole weekend topless in the water, but a part of me wishes I had because for the first time in longer than I can remember, I felt completely relaxed. I absolutely love what I do, but working for yourself requires, at least, in my experience, a pretty near constant vigilance. I have to always be checking out what's happening in the culture to see if there's anything I should be writing about, stay on top of the markets for erotica and sex writing to better help my students and further my own work, and simply keep up with my usual deadlines.

I've had more than a few moments in the past few months where I wondered whether even when things are going "well" if this pace is sustainable, or worth it. What does it mean to be doing exactly what you want and paying your bills but to never feel like you deserve to be off the clock?

I don't have the answer to that; it's a work in progress, like me. But I do know that when I was at a party this weekend, after teaching what wound up being more over six hours of writing workshops the day before, I decided to let all the stress wash away into that warm, magical pool. I had forgotten my bathing suit and was planning to just dip my feet in, but the water was warmer than I could have imagined. It felt perfect, and I wanted more. So I shucked my dress and bra and only kept my panties on because I thought there were rules about that (turns out, there weren't).

What's funny is that there's a pool where I live now, but I haven't so much as dipped my feet in it. This weekend I took the time to appreciate my surroundings, to savor the little things, whether it was an acai bowl that made me taste a bit of my Hawaiian memories for a moment, or navigating public transportation like a New Yorker rather than relying on Uber.

I don't think I need to be topless in a pool in Southern California to find those moments of sheer bliss; at least, I hope not, because I live in suburban New Jersey. But that's something I want to savor and return to when life gets stressful.

Here are a few photos I took over the past few days. And if you're in or near Chicago or want to travel there, the next CatalystCon will take place April 1-3, the first one in the Midwest. I am already working on my panel proposal! Get your proposals in by November 3rd.


I always swoon when I see palm trees.


My awesome CatalystCon panelists: Anaín Bjorkquist, me, Dixie De La Tour of Bawdy Storytelling and Gaby Dunn




I haven't gotten a chance to actually read more than two pages of young adult novel Dumplin' by Julie Murphy since downloading it last night before my redeye flight, but I love that Dolly Parton is a major plot point and it opens with this quote.