Last year, I got back from AWP to find, in my stack of mail, a manuscript request from an agent. His eventual rejection of my novel pointed out that I had “impressive credentials.” This year, I returned from AWP to a form rejection for a job. These facts pretty much sum up the difference between how I felt about having a published book a year ago—hopeful, confident that it somehow mattered—and how I feel about it now.

One rejection from a job isn’t such a big deal, you’re right, but I haven’t even landed a single interview, not even for the jobs I would have otherwise thought I’m well qualified for. I’ve heard that the job market for fiction professors is particularly competitive, that many of the applicants have multiple books published by major presses, have appeared in Best American and the Pushcart anthologies, and have logged a few years of Visiting Writer experience. They are, you see, much farther along in their careers than someone like me, who has only one measly book and has been teaching adjunct at a community college for the past three years.

And the thing is, I know, I guess I’ve known for a while, that the standard route is to apply for Visiting Writer positions (the full year stints) after publishing a first book but before applying for full time jobs. A few years of Visiting Writer gigs allows you to fill out your CV a bit while buying yourself time to get a second or maybe even third book out there. But I have a small child to take care of. I can’t move my family from place to place every year—I want my daughter to grow up in a more stable environment. On top of that, I’m in my freakin’ thirties, for cripe’s sake. I’m starting to feel a bit old to be cobbling together part time work and temporary positions.

So this all raises the question, why am I wasting my time in a field where I’ll be struggling paycheck to paycheck for most of my life? Why am I so keen to stay in a field where an entry level position is a part time job at a lousy salary, a field where it will take years of hard work and perseverance to get to a point where I can actually do more than just scrape by? I get enough rejection from the actual publishing side of being a writer. Do I really want to stay in a career where I get rejected from having a decent job too?

The job prospects for the other field I’m interested in—children’s librarianship—aren’t much better. The children’s librarian at our local library only works part time, too, and when I asked her a while ago for advice on entering into the field, she warned me that the pay is low and the jobs, hard to come by.

Great.

What am I doing with my life?

I don’t know. Maybe I’m asking too much. Damien has a good part time job as the Managing Editor of New Ohio Review. He has benefits, and though he doesn’t make much money, between the two of us, we can teach enough classes as adjuncts to bring in the extra we need to pay the bills and feed our child. Maybe I should just be happy with what we’ve got and feel lucky we’ve got the degrees and experience to have jobs at all, no matter how unreliable.

Still, it’s so depressing to think that our daughter is growing up in a family where neither parent has a full time job. Are we setting a bad example for Amalie? Should we give up and go out and get office jobs? I couldn’t tell you. I really don’t know.