Getting Into It

“If you can’t get into it, get out of it.”

I’ve run across this bit of wisdom quite a bit on the internet lately. Often it’s in the context of encouraging people to “follow their passion” – to believe in their dreams enough to quit the job they hate (“can’t get into”) and go for them.

Which is all very well, as long as one doesn’t expect the Dreams-and-Passions Fairy to immediately drop in with everything one needs to create that dream, including a fully functioning Etsy shop complete with inventory and a customer mailing list, or a finished manuscript complete with highly favorable contract from a big New York publishing house and a million-dollar advertising budget.

The real trouble I have with this supposedly wise advice, though, is that roughly 98% of the places I’ve seen it leave out the second half of the quote: “And if you can’t get out of it, get into it.”

No matter what one does in one’s life, stuff comes along that one can’t get out of, whether the stuff is filing taxes, dealing with a chronic illness, or handling the business side of one’s dream/passion. Far too often in recent years, I’ve seen people misapply the above saying because they didn’t want to face the reality of the second half.

They didn’t want to admit that doing the thing they loved also involved doing things they “weren’t into” but that they could not get out of doing if they wanted to make a living from their dreams and passions. So these folks frequently just ignore the parts they’re not into. Because if you’re following your dream, you’re not supposed to have to do things that you can’t get into, right?

Except that the IRS doesn’t care whether you’re into paying taxes or not; if you don’t do it, they’ll come and take your house. Diabetes doesn’t care that you’re really into the French fries at Fuddruckers and totally not into taking meds or giving yourself insulin shots; ignore diabetes and it’ll take your eyes, your organs, your brain, and eventually your life. Your customers don’t care that you hate packing your lovely handmade stuff into boxes and hauling it to the Post Office; they paid for the things they ordered, and if they don’t get them in a reasonable time, there will be complaints and an eventual loss of customers, if not lawsuits (which nobody is into except maybe lawyers).

There is no paying job in this world for which every single aspect of it is fun. I can say this with some confidence because everything that involves payment also involves taxes, and nobody I know is into paying taxes. Taxes are, however, one of several things that one cannot get out of doing. Which is where the missing half of the aphorism comes in.

If you can’t get out of it, get into it.

I can’t get out of paying taxes, but I can keep good records that make it easier to fill out the forms, I can be scrupulous about paying my quarterly estimated taxes, and I can set aside tax money from every check that comes in, so that I have the cash to pay the taxes when I need to. I can educate myself about the business side of writing – which covers taxes as well as record-keeping, basic contract stuff to watch out for, publishing etiquette (from submission through revisions), and a few other things that I don’t find fun, but can’t get out of. I can’t get out of it, and it’ll never be gun, but I can get into it at least enough to make the experience more tolerable.

There are also things that, technically speaking, one could get out of, but the consequences of doing so would be … unacceptable. Strictly speaking, I don’t have to do publicity – my contract with my publisher doesn’t say anything at all about it. But even the quickest and dirtiest pro-and-con analysis comes out heavily in favor of doing something. The only “pro” under “I do no publicity at all” is that I get to skip a job I actively dislike; the “con” list goes on for half a page, including things like an unhappy publisher, high probability of lower sales (and thus lower income), unhappy fans, and so on. So it’s still something I have to get into.

However, I have more choices when the thing I’m not into covers more ground. Taxes are specific and defined by the government. “Publicity” can mean anything from going to SF conventions, doing autographing, and other personal appearances, to throwing a giant publication party, to having a presence on one or more of the various social media outlets. I can, to a certain extent, pick and choose those things that I’m more comfortable with – the things that I’m already at least a little bit into. Meeting fans, talking about books and writing, going to the occasional convention – I do like those parts.

“Doing publicity” is never going to be as much fun overall as knitting, or writing, but I can enjoy parts of it as long as I don’t start from a position of “I am not into this, so I’m out.” (The same is true for those aspects of writing I dislike, like council scenes and transitions, which I can’t always cut, darn it.)