A week in the life of a working writer
- Brandi Bradley
- Apr 9
- 8 min read
I stopped off at a bookstore this week to pick up a copy of The Artist Way by Julia Cameron for my eldest child because he is starting to identify as a content creator but is still mustering up the courage to go for it. The sales clerk reviewed my purchase and said she had also purchased that for her sister and was now thinking it was a book she should get for herself. I told her she should and how I use the Morning Pages as a tactic for my students.
“Oh! What do you do?”
I said, “I teach creative writing and composition.”
I was back in my car before it occurred to me that I didn’t tell her, “I’m a writer.”
I could have also said, “I’m a writer AND I teach creative writing and composition.”
But I didn’t. I said teacher.
I’m proud of being a teacher and proud to cash in the teacher discount I receive on some websites. I like helping people, guiding people, and yeah, I kind of like it when students come to my office crying because they needed an adult to listen and not judge.
But I am a writer. But having too jobs is a lot to explain to a bookstore sales associate.
When I launched my indie-publishing business, I did it because I was tired of waiting to start living like a “real” writer. I wanted to have books in stores and on websites. I wanted to appear as a guest on podcasts. I wanted to offer advice to other writers. I wanted to write guest articles. I wanted to appear on conference panels. And I have done that!
But being a writer is so much more than the praise and the accolades. It’s also about doing the work. And until I reach the level of being self-sustaining as a writer, I also have to use my writing skills to pay the bills by helping others become stronger writers.
I’m past the midway point in the semester, which means the responsibilities are heating up. Students have either cashed in their chips and plan to never return to my class, realize they can’t drop my class and are clammoring to find new ways to make up what they missed, or they are doing so well that their confidence is urging them to run around in the spring sunshine.
I have always said that juggling all my responsibilities works for me because the structure of a school year is the steady bassline to accompany the distorted guitars of my creative process. But that means that I have to maintain multiple tasks: writing, teaching, grading, coaching, editing, posting, promoting, selling, performing, and paying people.
Here’s a glimpse what a week of my life as a working writer looks like.
Monday
I woke early, because I was workshopping two stories for my in-person creative writing class, and I needed to refresh on them before appearing. My kid had insisted we go to the Braves game the day before because it was opening weekend, and we wanted to kick it off right, which means we watched them lose for the first time all season.
I made a coffee, a bowl of Kashi, and a smoothie to pack with me for later.
I dropped my kid at school where he updated me on the Atlanta Braves promotional offers for when we go to our next game.
I drove 30 minutes to my office, where I called my husband and told him that our youngest child is making plans to spend all our money. I also left a voice memo for my best friend, which she calls her “personally designed podcast”.
On campus I started lecturing at 9 am and keep that vibe rolling until 2 pm. I told no fewer than three students that even if they could make up all the assignments they missed, they still wouldn’t be able to pass the class. One was confused, one was grateful to be set free, and the other cried, to which I walked them out of the room, sat with them on a bench and coached them through contacting their advisor.
I had an hour to answer office emails, drink my smoothie, and rest my brain.
I logged onto Instagram to make sure the posts I’d scheduled last week had posted and if anyone cared. I took one of the posts and turned it into a Story and posted it to.
I met with three students in Office Hours – answering the “what can I do to pass this class?” question.
I walked to my car after 5 pm, calling my husband to tell him I was heading home and that, no, I had no idea what I wanted to eat for dinner.
I receive an email claiming the print job I requested was formatted incorrectly and they would be pausing the job until I resolved these issues.
I spent an hour fixing the problem on the printer’s website, receiving a new date of delivery for the short story I was having printed. Grateful it would still arrive in time for it’s launch date, I shut down for the night.
Tuesday
I woke for my cereal and packed a to-go coffee to take with me as I carted my youngest to the orthodontist. I listened to a podcast about money mindset and played a game on my phone while he had his wires tightened.
I dropped him at school. He dropped several hints about how macaroni and cheese for dinner would make his teeth feel much better.
Stopped off at Kroger and purchased noodles and shredded sharp cheddar for dinner.
I checked in with my eldest, who was on his way out for a mental health walk around the neighborhood.
At home I put away groceries and made a smoothie.
I called my new promotions manager for our first scheduled Zoom meeting. I clarified the tone I want for the promos and launches that are forthcoming.
When we got off the phone, I emailed them a copy of Pretty Girls, a copy of “Local Monsters” and the new short story, “The Disappearing Family”, which will be available soon.
I checked my on campus email account to see if anyone had questions. People did. I answered them.
My husband called to say our house cleaners would be arriving on Thursday instead of Friday and if that would be okay.
I marched upstairs to tell my eldest that the cleaning people had made an adjustment to the schedule, and on the fly, he made an adjustment to his own plans for the week. He likes to be out of the house when people come in for cleaning and maintenance.
I called my therapist for my hour of self-care.
After I recovered from an hour of crying and journaling, I welcomed my son home and made him mac and cheese.
Wednesday
Another morning drive, after dropping my son at school.
I listened to a podcast about old movies that made me laugh.
I teach at 9 am and 10 am.
My best friend left me a voice memo while I was teaching. She always leaves messages while I teach. I have to make sure to turn off my ringer.
In my office, I drank my smoothie and responded to emails. I checked my Instagram posts.
I graded foundational assignments for my classes and logged participation points while I finished the podcast about old movies.
I received an email from someone telling me that I am clever, talented, and amazing, but no one will know it unless I hire them for their book club/ review buying service. I deleted it. These emails are always scams.
I put my phone on do not disturb and turned on my new manuscripts playlist. I wrote for an hour then checked my work count: 1,500. Feeling satisfied, I placed a silver star sticker on my calendar to reward myself for the time.
I checked my office emails, my personal emails, and then packed it up to go home.
We picked up Willy’s for dinner and watched Survivor together as a family. After, we looked at what movies released on Criterion and excitedly saw they’ve finally added Michael Clayton. (I've watched it at least twice this week).
Thursday
Early morning doctors appointment.
Home again and I wrote the blog post for the week.
I designed five ads to promote the blog post and scheduled them to appear on Instagram and Pinterest over the next week.
The cleaners arrived and I let them in.
I hop on a Zoom call with my nutritionist, where we discussed my eating plan and my changing medications.
The cleaners leave while I am on my call, which means they weren’t able to clean my writing space. The house smelled clean and my kitchen was spotless.
I received an email that the printing is complete and my short stories had just shipped.
I contacted my cover designer and reminded them to send me an invoice.
The mail arrived and my restock of business cards and bookmarks arrived. Half of the cards had an ink smudge on them. I called the company and they agreed to replace them.
Responded to an email from the programs coordinator at one of the local libraries confirming a lecture I agreed to host on writing mysteries in May.
I checked my blog stats. No one was clicking on my new post. But that wasn't uncommon. My most popular posts are from years ago.
When everyone arrived home, we left for our local pizza place for dinner and Music Bingo.
After, my husband and I watched the new episode of The Pitt, because we couldn't wait.
Friday
Youngest son complained about having to ride the bus instead of being dropped off at school like the prince he thinks he is.
Checked overnight emails from students to answer questions about their current collaborative project.
Early morning Zoom call with eldest son’s Life Coach.
Turned on Discovery + to watch Disappeared while I worked.
Downloaded reports from Lightening Source to confirm compensation matches purchases in 2025.
Created a new spreadsheet for income vs expenses for the book business.
I paused during an episode of Disappeared recounting the disappearance of a college student who had stayed up the night before playing video games and taking an ADHD medication he was never prescribed. I had never heard of so I pulled out my journal and took notes.
Fell into a Reddit rabbit hole about the Disappeared case I watched hoping for an update, but found a lot of comments about how people felt but not any new information. He was never found.
Mini-panic attack over the idea of missing one of my own boys.
Journaled about the parent of the missing boy in my upcoming novel. Wondering if I should make the parent a dad instead of a mom. I’ve been criticized for not having enough men in my novels.
When all the boys arrive home, my husband loaded them in the truck and takes them to the Mario movie.
It’s Mom’s Night Off. I order seafood bisque for dinner and set up the studio for a watercolor painting party for one.
When the boys come home, I ask about the movie. My husband said, “It was a movie.” which was the nicest way he could express how much he hated it.
I can’t be singularly focused on anything. One writing day this week has to be considered a victory, because otherwise I would become nhilistic about the point of it all.
And while it seems like a lot of switching back and forth – every writing class gives me ideas of what I want to accomplish, every email from the printers telling me an order is delayed reminds me that I’m running a business. A business I didn’t realize I wanted until I started doing it and now I am so glad I get to do it.
So maybe I foget to tell random people that I’m a writer. I still get to live that writer life everyday.
Get excited, because “The Disappearing Family” is going to be available for newsletter subscribers to purchase next week!
In the meantime, I am setting up at the Conyers Book Festival on April 11 and 12th with copies of Pretty Girls, “Local Monsters”, and Mothers of the Missing Mermaid.
Can’t make it to an event? Head on over to the brandibradley.com shop!
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