Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
-The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
I’ve always been a writer. I was that weird kid—there’s at least one in every school—writing haiku about flowers at 12.
Before I became a parent, my whole life was words—I was a spoken word artist, a playwright and performer, a freelance journalist. But once I had a family, I shifted gears. Like a lot of people, I thought the responsible move was to trade the uncertainty of the art life for financial security. A steady 9-5 with benefits seemed like the right call.
In some ways, it was. It offered structure, stability, and support for all of us. But it came at a huge cost. My days were packed, my energy was depleted, and my creative projects kept getting pushed to the sidelines. It started to feel like writing was something I used to do—like it belonged to a past version of me.
I wanted work that made room for my first love: writing, not a job that required me to squeeze my life purpose—my calling—into whatever spare time and energy I could claw back. I had been questioning the choice around having a 9-5 job and feeling like I needed my work life to change. I needed more flexible work.
Then my writing mentor of 20 years developed terminal brain cancer. I drove to Montreal to see him weekly, and our visits brought alive that part of me that I had been neglecting. During our first visit, he asked me to tell him about the creative projects I was working on. I didn’t have a good answer for him since I was still trying to finish the same play I had been writing for years. When I told him that, he looked at me in this stern way and choked out, “Do you forget who you are?"
What a gut punch! This was a few weeks before the cancer took his words away completely, and it was not lost on me that I was the only one out of the two of us who could choose to create for years to come. Why would I waste my one wild and precious life not doing that?
I remembered back to a conversation that I had with a writer friend of mine about where she worked: Tangible Words. She had mentioned there were part-time, remote marketing jobs available there—and she had said it was the best working experience she’s ever had: flexible hours, reliable income, great bosses.
I reached out to her and asked for an introduction. As I did, I felt a rush of YES about changing my life so that writing was no longer an afterthought.
Let me tell you, this is a sweet job. It offers exactly what I need: the flexibility to work from home, a chance to contribute meaningfully to a team, and still have enough time and energy to prioritize my writing life.
On top of all that, I’m learning new skills—which I’m all about. As a former 9-5er, I mostly worked in non-profits where I was a one-woman digital marketing shop with no real peers to collaborate with. At Tangible Words, I finally have a whole crew of extremely competent marketers, designers and growth strategists. Every day, we learn from each other and share skills. Right now, I’m diving into content pillar strategies for organic SEO, data management, curated A.I. chatbots, and HubSpot automations.
It turns out I didn’t have to choose between being a parent and being a writer—I just had to make room for it again. Now I have the mental space to write, the flexibility to prioritize my family when they need me, and the kind of inner joy that comes from doing work that I’m meant to do. This job helped me return to who I am, and it gave me the tools to build a working life that actually works for me.
Now I’m writing my first book! It’s a form I’ve wanted to try for years and, with the time and focus I’m putting back on my writing, that dream is coming true. I have a publisher lined up, and the book is coming out next year.
I’m not chasing dreams anymore—now I’m living them, one chapter at a time.
Remote Marketing Jobs: Do You Want to Work from Home, Too?
If you’re craving the same kind of shift, this article is a great place to start: How to Take Control of Your Life While You Work From Home. It puts into words a lot of what I was thinking when I decided to make this change.
