Why I Left Academia After Getting my Ph.D. to become a Full Time Writer & Editor
“We don’t have any classes for you next semester.”
As an adjunct professor, I got used to hearing these words. No matter how much my students liked me or how good the reviews of my classes were, one thing about higher education remained true. As an adjunct, my contract was only good for a semester. And no one — not my department chairs or administrators — cared about the value I brought to the classroom.
After a year adjuncting and being treated like I was disposable, I began to wonder if my work actually had no value.
I knew imposter syndrome well. But this was something else. Something that whispered in my ear day after day that I just wasn’t good enough. Not for teaching, not for writing, not for anything.
And I was starting to believe it.
So how did I go from wondering if getting a Ph.D. had been the worst mistake of my life to using my doctorate (and all the skills I’d learned to earn it) to build a six-figure business?
I get this question a lot. Or, more accurately, I get the question: “How did you go from getting your Ph.D. to writing full time?”
It’s not a question I’ve had a lot of time to think about because the last five years have been a whirlwind. But for clients who know me as their writing coach, ghostwriter, and/or editor, sometimes they’re shocked to find out that yes, I do have my doctorate. And for people who know me from academia, they’re baffled that I’m…not in academia anymore.
So, if you’re new here or if you’ve followed me online for a while, here’s how (and why) I went from getting my Ph.D. to building the life and career I actually wanted off of my writing.
After graduating with my bachelor’s from the University of Chicago, I felt a little lost. so I did what anyone who graduated from a prestigious university would do, and I moved home to Ohio to work at a mall. (There were other factors that contributed to this turn of events, but nevertheless: Yikes.)
I knew I wanted to be a writer, but I couldn’t see a clear path towards that goal. So after the weirdest “gap year” one could take, I decided to apply to one Ph.D. program and one MFA program just to see what would happen. And I got into both at The Ohio State University.
I quickly decided that getting a Ph.D. in English was the right fit for me and I spent the next eight years working on my doctorate. I never quite felt like I fit in in the academic world, but I did my best to make every second count and gain as many skills as I could.
I started training as an editor at an academic journal. I travelled all over the world to present my research and interview artists, other researchers, and innovators. I published my work in scholarly collections and journals. And I taught dozens and dozens of courses in everything from college writing to creative writing courses to American literature (at four different universities!! I was hustling!).
As the end of my PhD came into view, I was awarded the top fellowship for graduate students at Ohio State so I could take a year off from teaching to focus on writing and going on the academic job market.
And then, the pandemic hit.
After all the hard work for the past eight years to earn my doctorate and build connections in my field, I watched everything I had worked for evaporate pretty much overnight.
I had made my way into the final stages of several job searches for tenure-track positions at different universities all across the country, but they were all called off during the lockdowns.
I was able to talk my way into a few adjunct professor positions teaching online and in person, but the pay was terrible and these positions had no job security or stability. I realized that the problems that plague higher education went well past the pandemic.
No matter how good I was at teaching or how much my students enjoyed taking my classes, department chairs and administrators couldn’t care less about the work I did. At one point, I was making only $800/month between teaching three or four classes.
Something had to change.
In 2022, I got serious about freelancing, ghostwriting, and editing.
During grad school, I had taken on some freelance editing projects to make ends meet, so I tapped back into my network and started getting a few gigs editing manuscripts — mostly through word-of-mouth.
I opened a profile on Fiverr ghostwriting book proposals and began meeting really interesting, innovative clients from all over the world. It took off in a way I didn’t even expect, and soon I was making way more than I had ever made teaching at universities.
But energy-wise, I was hitting a wall. I was burnt out from getting my doctorate, working as an adjunct, and going on the academic job market. So I got serious about resting and recovering.
Even though the demand for my services was high, I only took on the clients I knew I could handle and do good work for.
And now that I wasn’t running around from campus to campus to teach, I had the time to actually slow down and figure out what I wanted to do with my time. I got back into therapy, started getting out in nature more, and returned to my first love: reading.
Slowly, I started to feel reinvigorated.
The year I finally pulled the trigger and started freelancing and writing full time.
This was the year I really learned how to listen to my clients and what they were asking me for.
I began opening up slots to ghostwrite full manuscripts and I started working with clients one on one as a writing coach.
And I LOVED it.
I’ve always been the type of person that goes deep the very first time I meet anyone. And I’m grateful that people open up to me and really let me get inside their stories. I realized that my ability to deeply listen to my clients combined with my perpetual outsider-ness were my hidden talents. I could use them to help my clients make their books a reality — whether through ghostwriting, editing, writing coaching, or some combination of all three. I looked at the world differently and, as it turned out, a lot of my clients did too.
I was obsessed with meeting new clients and channeling their voice and vision onto the page. And I was starting to have some amazing adventures of my own that were fulling up my creative well — like living in Japan for a few months out of the year.
This past year was a wild ride because things started compounding. Fast.
I was able to take on more 1:1 coaching clients, filling all my available time slots week to week.
I started a Substack newsletter (internet bedroom) based on my love for girl culture and nostalgia, and quickly grew it to over $1k in annual revenue.
I watched my clients live out their dreams of publishing their books and even took one client all the way from conceptualizing her fantasy epic to self-publishing her debut (go check out The Tournament of Heirs if you haven’t already!).
I published my first book and hit the Amazon new releases chart.
AND I hit six figures in my business.
Best of all, I get to wake up every day and do what I truly love and feel called to do. I get to be a writer. I get to help other people be writers. And I get to see a lot of really, really incredible creative work get put into the world.
The path I took wasn’t conventional in any way. But neither are the clients I work with. My clients are innovators. Outside-the-box thinkers. People who are driven by their passion and their vision.
And all of that makes for some pretty interesting stories.
Who knows what 2025 has in store. I have some plans (including growing on social media so hey hi! come along with me!). But after the past five years, I know just how important it is to leave the door open to all of the possibilities.
I am so grateful for this creative life, for this community, and that I found a path towards living and working in a way that’s true to me.
And I’m no longer ashamed to say that yeah, I didn’t land a tenure track job as a professor. Instead, I built a six-figure business where I get to help other people find their voice, their vision, and get their books published.
