Campfires are good for career burnout 🪵

To enhance your experience, play Belle and Sebastian’s Asleep on a Sunbeam while you read this.

“All I need is somewhere I feel the grass beneath my feet
A walk on sand, a fire I can warm my hands
My joy will be complete”

I’ve just returned from a 10-day trek across five states (New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and West Virginia) and am still in the thick of the re-entry haze.

It’s been so long since we took such a long road trip that I forgot what it’s like to pull yourself out of your usual surroundings for an extended amount of time.

It’s kind of a plunge pool effect, where you’re immersed in so many immediate and atypical events that you can’t help but let all the other nagging details of regular life fall away.

This is even more so when you’re moving from a hotel to a campsite to another campsite to another hotel every few days, each destination arriving with a new set of logistics and itineraries.

For me, this was just the escape I needed — long drives, woodsy surroundings and smells, exhausting myself with hikes and pizza, collapsing around a campfire at night with a beer in hand and sad bastard music on the lantern speaker.

A big reason I’m grateful for having the space to mentally unclench on this trip is that I’ve been dealing with a lot of career burnout as a food writer and recipe developer.

“Think about a new destination
If you think you need inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a pin”

Yes, I’m going to get deep here on this, so buckle up.

For so long, food writing “worked” for me, even though there were and are so many unsustainable things about it. But I persisted.

I kept pushing and being in denial about how the lower rates and shifty payments, the exodus of trusted editors who supported me with regular assignments, the constant grind of the constantly-shifting algorithms, and so many other boring and familiar issues were breaking me down.

And it’s come to the point where I can’t just be a food writer anymore.

I love sharing recipes and stories. I love the gratification that comes when you tell me you’ve made one of my dishes and it was amazing and it’s your new favorite regular dinner or go-to potluck dessert (hey Amanda, I see you and that white chicken chili 🧡).

But the old business model of putting “free” recipes up on the internet isn’t working any longer. I have to find a new way to find the joy and make a living, so that’s why I’m here.

That’s why I’m exploring other avenues to connect and share what I love with the world, writing a “more than food” newsletter, and trying to figure out what I want to do next.

It’s so much to grapple with — especially when we’ve been taught to pick a lane and stick with it for our entire lives — but I’m here in the chaos and I’m dealing with these big questions.

It hurts a lot to confront the idea that your identity doesn’t fit you like it used to (much like all the pants in my closet), but I hope you’ll stick around and support me as I see where I end up.

“I thought about a new destination
I’m never short of new inspiration
Roll out the map and mark it with a gin
Made my plans to conquer the country
I’m waiting for you to get out of your situation
With your job and with your life”