According to Merriam-Webster, the word batshit means “very irrational, excited, or angry: crazy.” And I don’t want to alarm anyone, but I made the impossibly tough decision to turn down another full time job today.
When I left my UAW job at Jeep, they gave me a lump sum, and my goal was to use it to simplify my life as much as possible, so that I could spend as much of what’s left of my life chasing my dreams of making a living as a writer. I’ve been pretty smart and studious about it. Paid cash for a truck and a camper, and worked to a place where I’m living on a budget not much over a grand a month, and a lot of that budget is my campground rent, something I’m always searching to lower. I used the last bundle of money I had left to get rid of my $425 a month Jeep payment and I bought a 2009 Pontiac Vibe. I plan to write a story about the car soon.
I plan to write a lot of stories. I’ve got a lot to say, and I’ve got more ideas for novels and books than I might have years to live to finish them. I try not to stress out about it. I just write at least a little everyday.
I knew when I left Jeep that I would have to find work somewhere to make it in life. Something to get me by while I keep writing, and keep trying new ways to get my work out there in front of more people. I tried working in a kitchen at a gas station a while back. Can’t wait to getting around to writing about that experience. Ironically enough, a printing company that I worked for many years ago tried to hire me. They work seven days a week a lot. Told them no thanks. I’d rather die than work overtime in a factory ever again, no matter how good the money is. If you’re looking for a factory job at $20 an hour, they’re out there. Many paying up to $25 or better, and that’s in backwoods Indiana.
That’s the thing, I made a decision today that I’d rather keep struggling, keep figuring it out. Keep my flexibility. The thought of punching a time clock anywhere makes my heart cry in ways the tough guy in me doesn’t want y’all to know about. And although there are other reasons keeping me from saying yes to that full time warehouse job I turned down today, including health, and mental health being a huge factor, at the end of the day I have faith in my writing, and in my ability to learn to scratch out a bare existence, and so much more, from it.
I do Lyft sometimes to earn money, and I’ll rely on that in the short term. Might give DoorDash a try. I think I have a chance at a promising part time job that’ll allow good flexibility in schedule, but I’m afraid to count it yet. We’ll see in the weeks to come.
This is not a plea for help. Or an invitation to worry about me. I’m good. Promise. I chose this route, and I know that I am so well loved that I’ll never go without. How will I pay my camper rent next month? Don’t know. But I haven’t missed it yet. My good friend and the poet J.I.B. from Portsmouth, who knows poverty as much as anyone, was shocked to learn that my Patreon account provides me almost half of my monthly food budget. $100 goes a long way when your friends that go to food banks gift you all the food they won’t eat. I’ll write a story about that eventually, too.
I’m going full batshit my friends. I know there’s a deeper level of vulnerability and authenticity I need to get to in life and in my writing, to be able to write the things I want to write. Some of them are hard things. Some of them are hilarious. Imagine the stories I have from living in a halfway house for 13 months in my early recovery. Did I tell you I got invited to be a guest on Judge Joe Brown once? I mean, we all know crazy people, but friends, trust that as I dig deeper into myself, and become more fearless in my writing, trust that the real story of my life is far more colorful than I’ve ever let on. I’ve been some places in this life, and I’m pretty certain I’m only going to get one chance to live out the rest of it the way I want to.
I know it’s irrational, some might say batshit, to turn down a good 40 hour a week warehouse gig, especially when my bank account says I’ll make it til Monday then what? And that’s counting driving down to Kentucky for a big reading festival this Saturday. Maybe I’ll sell a few books there. Maybe not.
It took everything in me to say no today. And I waited til the last possible minute to make my decision. I’ve been in the worst places that poverty can take an American. I’ve slept in homeless shelters, and city parks. I’ve eaten out of dumpsters more often than my pride likes to confess. I know the dehumanizing effects of panhandling to get by. The PTSD of living the life that I’ve survived has nearly shut my body down this week as I fought to hold faith in myself. The heart is willing but the body has been through so goddamned much. It’s hard to override the instinct of work work work to live. But I believe I’ll get by just fine, and if not, I’m certain that if the discomfort gets to be too much, I’ll find a way to make it then, too.
It’s going to be a fun, and interesting year either way. And not only am I so damned grateful you’re following along on my journey, and supporting me in it, but I’m at a place in life as a writer where I have a dozen patrons, here, and elsewhere, that regularly send me a few dollars, or send books I need to read, or supplies and artist gift packages. One gifts me Amazon cards, then gifted me Amazon prime after finding out I refuse to spend my money at Amazon. They didn’t want me to have to pay for shipping on my free gift cards. That was nice of them. I don’t pay for any streaming services. Hell, I barely watch TV. I get Netflix and Hulu free from T Mobile, and a friend loans me an HBO log in so I get my sopranos fix. But funny thing about quitting my job at Jeep, after 25 years of blue collar jobs I still don’t know how to sit down and relax much.
Three patrons sent me $20 before my most recent tour, to help with gas and food. $60 goes a long way on a trip like that, especially when 2am tow trucks and new tires are involved. And I tell you this to say how grateful I am to have that help. It means the whole world to me that not only do I believe in my writing, but I have so many others that are betting on me that I know I’m doing the right thing. Keep writing. Keep writing. Keep writing.
As I made this decision, this batshit decision to wing my entire life in a day to day get by way, I was asked by lovers and friends what could be done to support me. My response: send prayers for a winning lottery ticket or a book deal. I need nothing in this moment in this day. I’m stuffing my face with microwave popcorn as we speak. Dinner was two peanut butter sandwiches. My belly is full. My coffee pot never stops. My cupboard is full of more rice, beans and soups than I can use in a week. I got more writing to do later, and nothing in the world stopping me from doing it. Life is good. Who has it better than this?
-Dan
*almost everything you read here is posted in my Patreon account a day earlier
There’s a photo of me before my reading at The Spine Bookstore in St. Louis. I wanted to get a good photo of me in my new Over Yonder shirt.
I don’t know what other reference that could be, East of Eden is life shatteringly good. Good enough to get tattood for sure!!!
Timshel!