James Law's Writing Career Was Finally Taking Off. Then He Burnt Out | Winter Spectacular 2021

It takes a long time and a lot of luck to start being able to live off of writing. A lot of it is unfortunately about knowing the right people in the right places and obtaining trust with outlets and editors alike. That's kind of where the idea of startmenu came from. Being part of a collective is always more powerful than going it alone.

It took me what felt like an age to get anywhere, though, and an absolute mountain of luck. I wrote guides for a couple of sites and worked in SEO for a bit before trying my hand at freelancing, and began to get paid somewhat close to a real salary that's enough to live in one of the expensive southern cities the games journalism industry often forces you to relocate to.

Getting started.

I'm doing a lot better now, though. Professionally, I've been given the opportunity to prove myself on many levels to a number of talented editors and peers, and am also lucky to be able to work full-time with the opportunity to freelance on the side at the moment. It felt absolutely brilliant to have pitches actually accepted for once, and find myself getting rewarded for my time and effort.

Oo-er, careful.

From there, though, it's a slippery slope. It isn't just in writing - there's more to life than work. Everything worth doing takes time, and I was taking that time. I started a podcast with a friend, I opened a jam business, I moved to London, closer to my friends and partner, offering me the opportunity to actually have a social life post-lockdown. I was doing all this on top of a full-time job plus freelance opportunities popping up when possible.

When people talk like this, it's often as a flex. 

"Look how hard I worked! I'm hustling, making moves, I have so much going on in my life."

Jump in.

Honestly - it did feel like that for a while. People would comment on how impressed they were with the amount of stuff I was getting up to, and it felt good. It felt like I was actually getting somewhere career-wise, and things were taking off in a real and genuine way. I had side hustles, an active social life, I was reconnecting with old friends and meeting new ones, both in person and in online spaces.

That didn't last too long, though. The rush was balanced out by a feeling of obligation. A requirement to myself to always have some plates spinning alongside some balls in the air. It's a problem I've had in small parts for a while, but it's always worsened by the fronts we all put on in the social media spheres we're insulated in. Everything is happening all the time for everyone else and it's just so easy to feel as though you are not doing enough.

It got to the point that I was prioritising my life based on the extent to which I'd feel 'productive' during the time spent. Sitting in the living room watching quiz shows and Masterchef all Monday evening wasn't productive, so I stopped. Playing games for fun as opposed to for work also took a back seat.

It feels too dramatic to describe it this way, but I really was chasing some kind of high. Like, it was supposed to feel good being productive, so I kept searching for ways to use the hours I have in the day in a way that made me feel useful.

Oops.

People talk about burnout as though it's an easily preventable thing. Maybe it is, but usually only in hindsight. Maybe I should've taken less time for work, maybe I should've said "no" more frequently. Maybe I shouldn't have started riding for Deliveroo whilst simultaneously working for one of the most prestigious games journalism networks in the country. I did, though. It never felt like an option at the time. I slowly but surely slipped into a situation where I wasn't taking care of my needs. 

oh… halo’s multiplayer shadow dropped, a week after battlefield and a week before the new warzone map… oh and fortnite just started chapter 3…

Recently, I took on a giant batch of guide work. Almost a dozen pages on a short turnaround. I'm proud of how they turned out. I worked long and hard, and put out a bunch of pages that'll get the site I wrote them for a big wedge of views. I did a lot. 

It's what I do. 

It's also what I needed to realise that things needed to stop being like this. I'd been exhausted for a while, it wasn't a sudden switch. But after working on that big pile of content, I found myself taking a step back from my friends, losing myself to the time and energy I'd been spending on work over the months of 2021. I stopped exercising regularly. I wasn't enjoying spending time alone without “something productive” to do. When being "productive" became a burden in itself, I still needed to feel like I was getting things done. It became a slippery slope and one that I'm still a long way from escaping.

I've had professional success this year, but I'd be remiss to celebrate it without an acknowledgement of the mental and physical harm I had to endure to get here. I took on extra work so I could get paid better and become viewed as a more reliable freelancer. I worked harder and longer in my full-time job to ensure my work was up to the level it's supposed to be. In turn though, everything became a chore, and in hindsight, having to trudge through every single day became a burden.

Is this solvable?

I'm still far from at the end of the road here. Even now, I'm writing this piece for startmenu because I'm sitting at home on a Saturday thinking "I should do something instead of just sitting around and watching the snooker and playing Football Manager". It's so easy to slip back into it.

Game journos and developers during the Winter release season:

There's no panacea for avoiding burnout, and it's definitely not something that can be recovered from with a week of chilling and avoiding taking commissions. Physically and mentally, I've been feeling the after-effects of an overactive work schedule and a brain that guilt-trips me into refusing to fix a thing. It'll take some time yet to figure out the next steps, but for now, I'm just trying to avoid slipping back into that hole.

The only real reason I'm taking this step back now is because of the overwork I've been doing for the last six months or so anyway. I have freelance cash still to come in, and full-time work that keeps me going financially. Lots of people aren't in that situation, particularly in the video games writing sector. 

With starting salaries at ludicrously low levels, I was only able to accept the job I had because of financial support from my family back when I first started (before the family suffered some major setbacks in that department). No one I know is happy with the state of affairs, and continuing down this path means the only people who are able to work in this area without having to do extra to earn more money are those of us with privileged backgrounds.

Editor’s note: James please get some rest.

We're all burning out. It's not a sudden switch we flick, it is a wick, getting shorter and shorter. I just wish those of us with actual financial power in the industry would put their necks on the line and do better. Most people have jobs that don't envelop their entire existence, so why should we?

I wish I had a better answer, or even a solution. If you find one, let me know.