A couple days ago, I sat down at my desk, knowing I had a lot of ‘business’ to deal with. I was determined to complete these necessary but uninspiring tasks (cashbook marketing, etc.) quickly, so that I could get on to the writing I wanted to do.

First job was to check my email.

And this was the first message I opened:

Hi there Robinne
I bought your whole Dragon Defence League Series at the Spencer Park Market and you personalised one of the books for my son Mathew. I just wanted to write to let you know that he absolutely loves the first book and is over half way through and keeps telling us all about what is happening in the book. We have never seen him so glued to a book before and he never tells us what is happening so it has made a massive impression on him so thank you so much for writing them.

Well, there’s no better way to start your day than that! This is exactly the sort of thing I live for as a writer. To make an impression, to capture the imagination of a reader is the whole point of writing. And to have my book be the book that opens a child’s mind to the wonder of stories is something special, indeed.

It reminds me of the real reason I write. Oh, I would love to be able to make a living at this. The validation of a living wage would be amazing.

But it’s not why I write. I write to connect with others through words. There’s something magical about having an impact on a reader you have never met.

And I’m regularly reminded that I’m not the only writer who has to fund their passion with other endeavours. On a recent episode of Writing Excuses (a writing podcast I highly recommend), the topic of the week was how to fund the writing life. The whole point of the episode was that it’s okay, normal, and totally possible to purposely engage in money-making activities to support your writing habit, and that choosing activities that feed into your writing is the key to making the most of your time.

So, yeah, I teach three days a week in order to support the two days a week of writing. And because I teach students within my target audience, I know what my audience likes to read, know what sorts of life experiences they have, understand how current events resonate (or don’t) with them. I have an eager and ready population of beta readers at my fingertips, and a ready source of story inspiration.

It’s no different from when I was running the Bugmobile, my science outreach programme for schools. Bugmobile fees barely covered my costs, though I was charging schools as much as I possibly could. So I funded the Bugmobile by doing much more lucrative heritage interpretation consulting for various local and national agencies and organisations. The consulting work was interesting, but not my passion. But the skills to do both were similar, and it was a way to ensure I could continue to run the Bugmobile.

I will admit I ended 2023 feeling guilty for ‘wasting’ so much time, money and effort writing books and stories that don’t pay the bills. But I’m launching 2024 with a different attitude. And with a new realisation.

Back in 2005, when I first developed the idea for the Bugmobile, I wrote a mission statement. I don’t remember it exactly, but it was something along the lines of connecting people with the amazing nature found in their back yards and encouraging people to explore the world around them. I have realised that I’m still doing that as a writer. When I closed the Bugmobile and started writing, I felt like I’d cut off an arm. How could I stop interpreting the natural world?

The answer is I never did stop. I just don’t think I realised it. My Dragon Defence League books, which captivated Mathew, are a celebration of the landscapes and natural history of Aotearoa New Zealand. Yes, I’ve put dragons in there, but only to illuminate our relationship with the natural world and how it’s evolving over time. Only to give me a tool to envision a different way we might think of the natural world and our place in it. Digging deeply into all my stories—fantasy, science fiction, climate fiction, horror—they all contain elements of heritage interpretation.

The truth is, while I believed I was building a business, first with the Bugmobile and interpretation consultancy, and now with the writing, I’ve actually been building a life. A life with meaning and direction. 

I still have to make sure I’m paying the bills, and I still need to spend time worrying about marketing, but putting my writing in the larger context, and reminding myself of the larger goals I have for my life, helps me to let go of the feeling that net profit from the sales of my books and stories is the primary measure of success.

But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t buy my books. They’re great! Fun reads, and full of environmental themes … Go on, you know you want to.