Burnout, a Book Submission and Brunch with Amy Poehler

Let's have a little catch up, shall we?

Back in January, I had high hopes that 2024 would be my year of consistency. I envisaged myself reawakening my old blogging muscles of yesteryear and writing a Substack every fortnight, going to the gym three times a week and reading everyday. What a woman I would be eh? 2024 Jess had potential.

Instead, two of my oldest friends, who were on all accounts my found family, ride or die and real life Fellowship (with my fam), decided this would be the year they passed away within six months of each other (very rude, not very mindful). Then we decided to uproot our lives and move out of our family home of 16 years, all while my work shrivelled up to near non-existence for the first four months of the year.

Safe to say, none of that was on my agenda.

My intentions are almost laughable looking back now, as instead of consistency, 2024 has been the year of chaos. Unexpected events have thrown me off my axis a little and I’ve taken slightly longer than anticipated to recover from it.

When my work did start to pick up again, as a new tax year dawned and budgets were replenished, I got back into my old familiar habit of saying ‘yes’ to every piece of work that came my way. Blame financial anxiety, blame a lack of boundaries, either way it led to the same place: a big ol’ burnout.

Though this meant that July was my highest earning month of my freelance career to date *mimes theatrical Miranda-like bow, thank yew* - which is especially rare for this time of year (the autumn months are usually the most fruitful) - it came at the expense of my mental health and overall well-being. As you might have guessed, it was not worth it.

Now, I’m not here to tell you I worked smarter not harder and now have 55948 systems in place and work four hour weeks to make six figures - go onto TikTok for that kind of BS - instead I did what I knew would help. I took time off, said no to certain time consuming opportunities that came with little pay off for me and forced myself to slow down and rest. Who knew being gentle with yourself could be so rewarding?

Now, the big girl update *drum roll please* is that remarkably I have stuck to one pledge, it has been the year of the book… or books (insert shifty eye emoji here). After signing with a literary agent earlier in the year, I’ve been working on a book submission, eeee.

While I’m currently not really allowed to talk about it, it has been a truly eye opening experience into the publishing industry (aka the real cogs of how the business works AND it is big business) and what it’s like to be a debut author or new girl on the block.

So, what can I say in the meantime? This ever-evolving concept, the apple of my eye, my book baby is a non-fiction book that I just know there is an audience for (it’s me, hi!), it’s a book I can’t believe doesn’t exist yet (and I swear to god if someone gets it picked up before me, the tears I will cry!) and the whole experience has been a rollercoaster of emotions - mostly very, very lovely ones.

I’ve never been so bolstered with support or had such wonderful feedback about my writing before, which I guess is not surprising when I work for myself and only seem to offer myself constructive criticism or harsh notes to improve. I mean who knew a writer would have low self-esteem and be self-critical of their work? Oh, wait, we all did.

My fiction, meanwhile, is simmering in the background. I’m revisiting one of my three main book concepts and had a gloriously satisfying breakthrough the other day on one gnarly aspect of the story. So, all in all, the words are forming, the concepts consolidating and we’re progressing, day by day, (she hopes) to one day be a published author commonly known as I-finished-a-book-writer. Exciting eh?

In between, there’s been highs, lows and a lot of processing grief: leaving the old house and losing that connection with the memories it held as we lived there with dad too, to losing Norma and Angie, some of the anchor beings of my existence and clearing out their house (where Norma lived for 70 years and Angie lived her whole life). Also, we’ve just been adjusting, slowly, to life without their presence, which is always the on-going part of the grieving process.

In other news, as comes with the territory of being a film journalist, I’ve also watched a lot of films, binged watched my favourite comfort TV shows (I’m already halfway through Gilmore Girls and it’s only just September), interviewed some very cool creatives, been on many a lovely day out with B and even had brunch with Amy Poehler.

Yes, it was the most bougie weekday I’ve ever had in my life spent at a swanky London hotel with Disney (?!) to chat about Inside Out 2. In my head, I pictured it as a ‘grab a nibble from the side and sit down to listen to this Q&A’ type set up that was posed as a ‘brunch’, but no, no, there was something like seven of us, seated round an intimate table to chat for an hour with Amy herself about anything to do with the film. Wild.

Events like this, which for me are still a rarity, are honestly such a pinch me moment for a girl who wanted to write and realised she could chat about her favourite films.

Sometimes my job is cool and glamorous like interviewing the cast of Emily in Paris or chatting to Zendaya on the red carpet, other times it’s wondering if 6pm is too late to get ready for the day, as I sat down at my desk at 9am to write and haven’t moved since.

As I’m sure you’ve realised, I’m not your gal if you’re looking for a disgustingly perfect vision of the ultimate life - which I don’t think exists anyway - but a work-in-progress, ever-evolving girl just trying to do her best and be kind to herself along the way. PS. that last part is the hardest bit!

So, the long short of it is, if your year hasn’t gone to plan, welcome, I feel you. But those unexpected events take us to new places and I’m excited to see where we’re all heading next, as, hey, the year isn’t done yet…