Seven years ago today I walked out of my teaching job and became a full time freelancer. I wrote about it at the time in a comic called I’m On A Boat1. It started as a travel journal of a trip I’d taken with some students to the Netherlands, and ended up being the chronicle of how I quit my job.

In an ideal world, that was my dream job. I got to write and run the UK’s very first university degree course in comics. There was a lot of love about that job, but not enough to balance out the bad stuff, so I reached a point where I couldn’t go on and left2. Here’s some pertinent highlights;

Both true stories3. I still get migraines, and I think there’s enough there for a comic about it all one day.

I could get into detail about what exactly was stressful about working a University, but it’s mostly boring4. Nothing shocking or salacious, just the feeling of being gradually ground into a meaty paste.

So I quit.

that ‘spent the next few weeks re-adjusting’ panel is doing a LOT of heavy lifting. I’d say that the first week, I was a mess. I was in a state I called ‘Panic-Mode’. Then the second week, I’d look back at the first and say ‘oh man, I was a mess back then, but not now, I’m GREAT now’. Then I’d repeat that week after week for the next year to eighteen months at least. It took at least that long to feel ‘normal’ again. I didn’t realise that stress has a kind of half-life that keeps lingering in your bone marrow. Panic Mode endured for a long time.

The thing about the armour is absolutely true, and it made my day5.

Not long after I became a freelancer, covid happened. I think if I hadn’t already quit, having to continue working at the university during covid would have made me quit for sure.

So how have the past 7 years as a freelancer treated me? Ups and downs I suppose. I have some months where I earn multiple months worth of money and other months where no money comes in and everything costs all the money you have. There’s no real consistency to any of it, it's very unpredictable but it usually works out ok. The hardest thing was readjusting from ‘salary-mode’ to ‘wheee-who-knows!’ mode.

I like that this has given me space to do things I don’t think I would have had the time to do otherwise - refining the design of the Blade Pen to the version it is now, working on projects that have been genuinely exciting, working with lovely people.

When I was freshly unemployed, I decided to try and work out what it is that I do, and I really struggled with that. I still do. When people ask me what I do, it’s really hard to put it into a succinct few words6. I did realise that I have two main aspects that sort of define what I do. There’s Dan the Creative Person - the guy who makes stuff and draws stuff. The ‘stuff’ guy. Then there’s also Dan the Creative Support Person - the guy who helps other people do their thing. That’s taken the shape of mentoring, editing, teaching, working as a producer; helping other people do their thing, but better.

Experience tells me that when I don’t do anything, nothing happens. So here’s what I’d like to happen; If you want me to; draw some pictures, edit a book, work with you on something, get me to lend some brainpower to your project, then get in touch. I’m nice to work with and I know my stuff.

This week, I’m putting up my first solo show at Swan Hill Studios in my hometown of Shrewsbury. It opens on the 17th April and runs for a week. I’ll be showing a ton of artwork, comics and I’ll be working in the studio for the duration, chitchatting and hanging about. I’m very excited for this. I’m also running a storytelling masterclass on the evening of the 22nd April, where I‘ll be revealing all my secrets. Do come along if you can make it.