When I start to notice something internally and externally, I have to stop and think about it for a bit. In this case, I’ve taken notice of the fact that, while I consider myself an indie author, that’s not even remotely all I do. And we’re not talking about the multiple jobs to earn a living kind of thing — I’m talking about creatively. 

For years, I’ve just considered this lack of focus a side effect of the various neurodivergencies that I’ve dealt with all my life. For as far back as I can remember, I’ve bounded from project to project. One might even say these are a string of obsessions. I still distinctly remember being chided for this behavior as a child…being told that it was “weird” or “concerning” that I would bounce from hobby to hobby on a whim. 

I had so many interests that by the time I was in middle school, my parents didn’t take any of them seriously. It became nearly impossible to express excitement about something because the response was invariably “…and how many days before you move on to something else?” And that was a total buzzkill. 

But apparently, I’m not alone. I’ve started to realize the obvious thing that’s been in front of my face for years — most creatives I come across are the same way. 

The inspiration to write my cyberpunk novels came around a couple of years ago after a YouTuber who talked about castles all the time started putting out videos about writing fantasy fiction.

This guy was all over the place — books, castles, swords, movie reviews, models, and political podcasting — and I didn’t even realize it because I was only looking at the one facet that I was most interested in.

But now, taking a look at most of my favorite creatives, I can’t help but see it.

Bill Making Stuff, Planet Smasher Games, and…Everyone Else

I’ve been writing a mod for the tabletop game Gaslands, and that’s led to a couple of side projects associated with tabletop gaming. For example, I’ve started crafting and selling Gaslands miniatures. It began as a silly thing I would do in the late hours to unwind, but when I started accumulating too many to keep around, I started selling them. The first week, I sold more painted Hot Wheels cars than I sold books. 

This new interest-slash-side business had me checking out YouTubers who focus on miniatures, kitbashing, and the like. I quickly found the @BillMakingStuff channel and, through the course of binging his videos, realized that this guy writes stories, creates games, and sells model robots that he builds out of junk — all on top of doing a pretty slick YouTube channel that’s about all of that stuff.

Thinking on it further, there are examples of this among tons of creatives I enjoy. There’s hardly one of them that hasn’t written some kind of book, and the number of indie novels hitting the market with social media handles on the cover instead of the authors’ real names is kind of mind blowing.

Granted, not all of these books are bestseller material, but I don’t think that’s the point anymore. Maybe I’m a better writer than I am a creator of gaming miniatures, but I’m still doing both well enough to generate income. They’re better at making tabletop games than they are at writing novels, but they want to do both, and people are willing to spend money on both.

The Creator Ecosystem

I don’t think it’s about being an author anymore. Or a YouTuber. Or a crafter. It’s about the ecosystem that arises out of the creator themselves. The fans are not consumers of books or models — they’re consumers of the creator. The multi-hyphenate is no longer a function of low-paying jobs; it stems from embracing a diversity of skills and interests. 

I’ve been struggling to reconcile that thought in my own mind. Part of me knows quite well the discipline required to be an author. You have to produce — plain and simple. But I’ve been working on Jack’s third book for almost a year, and it has not been easy. I’ve had to accept that the work itself is suffering to the degree that forcing the book to completion would be worse than just delaying its release. 

But in the meantime, I’ve created other things. I’ve finished the mechanical foundation for a tabletop game that I invented (but gave up on) three years ago. I’ve developed AI agents, and I’ve volunteered my marketing services to local businesses. There’s the aforementioned miniature-making hobby, and just as many people come to my booth at events to ask about the sci-fi props I’ve made as they do for my books.

Maybe it’s that latent guilt from my childhood that makes me feel kind of bad about that. Constantly being reminded that I have too many interests did leave an impression, for sure. But what I’m seeing is that there appears to be some normalcy to it.

In fact, with the state of the “author career” being what it is (meaning that even traditionally published authors barely make a living at it anymore) it almost seems like the multihyphenate route is the only sustainable one.