I Quit My Job!


My coworkers made this amazing cake for me on my last day (all my favorite things).

I quit my job. This is a terrifying sentence to write, but I also feel electric. A year and a half ago, I devoted 100 percent of my time to freelance work, and I loved it. I had the dizzy, hopeful feeling that exciting new projects and experiences were waiting just around the corner.

Then, to my surprise (and delight!), one freelance gig turned into a full-time job. I worked at a leading digital marketing company as a client content editor, and I loved the work. I loved my team. I still love my content team; they are all such lovely, passionate, hilarious, wonderful people. We became a family, and I will miss them something fierce.

But as summer was coming to a close, I felt the tug of freelance on my heart. I missed everything about it: setting my own schedule, working from home, working with authors, editing manuscripts, abiding by The Chicago Manual of Style. . . .  so, so much. Sure, I've continued with freelance projects on the side, but weeknights and weekends weren't cutting it. It was too difficult to work full time and give authors, publishers, or editorial agencies my full attention.

One morning, walking our lazy hound dog, I told my husband how much I missed book editing and how I've had to say no to so many projects I genuinely wanted to say yes to. He encouraged me to consider freelancing again, and once I got the itch to do it, I couldn't ignore it.

So here I am! If you've been a part of my editing career in any capacity, I want to thank you—even if it was just encouragement from the sidelines. I didn't have much to lose when I jumped into my freelance editorial business years ago. It felt as though I were jumping into my skin, getting into a new rhythm that would never leave me.

And now, with such a wonderful career on the line, I will admit this to you: it's scary. I had a lot to let go of to make this decision; and in some ways, I feel more as though I'm jumping out of my skin. But it's right. It's time to stretch.

I hope you'll join me as I make room for what will grow.