Why do you want this job?

‘Why do you want this job?’

I resist the temptation to reply

‘For the money’

But I waffle on about having worked in the NHS for years, feeling at home here and open to new challenges.

What I don’t say is that it has been a year since I left the NHS to become a full-time writer and my bank has resorted to sending letters of concern asking if I am ok. And that I knew being a writer would be tough, but I didn’t think it would be this tough and I am constantly up against AI slop, big names with big followings (not always so big on talent) and my ever increasing self-doubt and imposter syndrome.

The woman interviewing me must have sensed my reticence anyway as I didn’t get the job. Fair enough, I didn’t really want it.

But it has been a year now since I gave up paid work to be a paid writer and I am wondering if I have done the right thing but at the same time the thought of stepping back into the P.A.Y.E cult of the NHS leaves me cold.

Will I be walking back through the door?….

I don’t know what I expected would happen when I handed in my notice last year and carefully placed all my eggs in the one basket named ‘Substack’. Well not all my eggs. I did start writing a book. A memoir of my earlier days in university, as a medical student turned mental health patient. It went down well amongst the kind writers who critiqued it in writer’s circles.

But then I stopped writing it. Wrote more on Substack. Pitched to a few newspapers. Entered a few writing competitions. Waited for a break, any break. But nothing broke. Posts going viral on Substack mean very little when you can’t pay your bills.

Viral but still broke.

‘Converting’ subscribers to paid seems to be the equivalent of turning water into wine for me and the lovely paid subscribers I have often give me ‘tips’ to top up their subscriptions, which is so generous of them, but I can’t expect a handful of kind readers to keep me afloat.

Newspapers often don’t reply to my carefully crafted pitches (how rude!) and then I read crappy columns in the same papers by well known ‘rent a gobs’ and I wonder why I bother. I have a ‘revenge list’ of all the publications that have rejected me. It’s more of a book now than a list – I wonder if anyone is interested in publishing that?

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In my defence (and I am not sure anyone is attacking me beyond myself), Substack has changed. The introduction of the big name, affiliate links, videos and social media type content has not (yet) worked in my favour and the amount I have spent on Substack courses far outweighs what I have earned.

But I must admit I love the highs of writing here.

‘You say what I am thinking’

I have heard that so much and every time my heart leaps a bit.

‘I love your work’

God, I love hearing that too. I never thought of myself as having a big ego but what ever ego I have has been stoked a thousand times by all the amazing comments from lovely readers.

But it doesn’t pay the bills, and the bills don’t stop arriving just because I want to add my two cents to the Substack party debacle or because my rage about the treatment of Jason Arday needs an outlet.

I have applied for another job. Part time. In the NHS of course. My daughter says I have Stockholm Syndrome. I think most NHS employees have. But I have been bitten by the writing bug and the infection is spreading. I fear it may be terminal.

Half of me hopes I don’t get the job, and I can write until my heart is content. The other half of me knows it can take a long time to be a writer who earns enough to be solely write and I should bite the bullet and get back to work whilst I am young enough to be able to.

Job or no job, I am staying here on Substack. Grinding it out. Producing my best work – even if that means preparing posts on my days off and writing through my lunchbreaks (as if we get lunch breaks on the NHS!).

I will be posting my weekly newsletter ‘The Weekly Witness’ and my longer posts to paid subscribers for only £3.50/$4.80 a month (less if paid annually).

I will invoke my latent Catholic self and keep the faith that people do want to read my women focused social, cultural, political commentary, my personal essays and story telling, and that my experience in midwifery, mental health, misogyny, midlife and so much more is worthy of people’s time and money.

‘Why do you want this job?’

The job of a writer? That’s easy to answer. I want to write for better. Better for everyone. I want to keep writing what people (especially women) are thinking and help empowering them to say it for themselves. I would do it for free if I could (and I have been doing) and there is so much more left to write about.

That’s the job I want. Fingers crossed people like you can make it happen.🤞

All subscribers welcome. If you can afford it, paid subscription is only £3.50/$4.80 a month (less annually). Low prices does not mean low quality. I would write for free if I could afford to but I can’t so I keep prices as low as possible so more people can access my work.

Coffee is always appreciated to help put a pep in my writing step!

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I always love to hear from readers so please comment, like or restack to reach other readers who need a bit of Rebecca Mack in their lives!

With love and gratitude

Rebecca X