Planting Yourself in The Wrong Garden: Burnout and My Experience

Full disclaimer, I have no right to be advising you on burnout. I am the definition of a kid with passion turned young adult with zero motivation. At age 12, World Literacy Canada published my short story. Somehow, I was one of ten winners from a nationwide selection. My little brain thought this was going to set me up for the rest of my life, and a career of novels and worldwide travel awaited me. However, I come to you ten years later to confirm: nothing comes easy.

                  Writing nonstop as a teenager, I restarted my high school newspaper, volunteered for local papers, and read so many novels that my fingers were made of more paper cuts than skin. I followed advice from seminars that screamed the same thing: Keep going until you can’t. Then do it again. I tried to follow this motto—and still do. I’ve drafted fantasy novels, short stories, and many screenplays accumulated throughout my years at Toronto Film School. Despite praise from Netflix writers to acclaimed producers, nobody would bite at my ideas. Query trenches seemed to have become my new home, and there looked like no relief from the flood.

                  It wasn’t an agent friend of Mom’s that saved me (there are unfortunately, no nepo connections). Furthermore, I can explain that I am still actively in these trenches. But I refuse to call it that anymore. For ten years, I’ve been fighting for the world to read my novels. If I’m so passionate about my work, why can’t anyone else see this?

The Desk of Cloey Kinney (May 2025)

                  My pessimism told me to stop writing, and so I did. From 2022 until now, I’ve been unable to write more than 100 words any given day, if at all. I viewed the world as crooked and biased and accepted that as a small-town Maritimer with no popularity, I’d never pen a book. Perhaps I’d have to work harder at making famous friends. But no, that won’t work, because my inner circle consists of my best friend and his brother (aka my now-fiancé). I could only network so much in a town with three cars, and I had no grounds to dream so big. Although I was more passionate about writing than anything else in this life, I’d have to resign. Perhaps there was still time for a bachelor’s degree or office job. For years, these thoughts wove into a deep spiral.

                  This year, though, that mindset changed. I had been working a steady job in retail/healthcare for months. As their only full-time employee, I automatically assumed the responsibility of training. When people called out, I was there. Manager chores without the pay or title. For two months I did six-day weeks, and when the store abruptly sold, I clung to a job offer from the new owners. However, what followed were three months of zero communication.  Sporadic emails and loose details were the only signs of life from management. Despite signing an offer of employment, life was pulled from under my feet when they rescinded it. The reasoning: the shelves were dusty, and the owner’s system was messy. Neither item was my fault. Regardless, I was left jobless with a depleted savings account.

                  No matter my frustration that a year of loyalty and education was gone for no reason, I’m grateful for the situation that finally opened my eyes. I’d been living in a daze for three years, bouncing jobs between employers who couldn’t care less if I kept the lights on. Finally, it hit me: I don’t want to simply exist in a world where my groceries, bills, and means of living are reliant on a nasty manager with an ego complex. Especially when that job isn’t in a field that I’m passionate about. At my lowest point mentally and financially, I realized I needed to start chasing my dream harder. No more sending queries and accepting their rejections as truth. For my next novel, should no agent want it, I’ll self-publish. I’ll go to book fairs and festivals and movies and events.

                  I’ve been living in my bedroom, staring at blue screens, doing mindless activities to pass the time. As though I’d fast forward into a world where my desires are fulfilled at the blink of an eye. In truth, I’d just been wasting years where I could’ve been working towards them instead. So, no. I am not qualified to give you advice regarding burnout. However, I can share how I’m getting over it.

• Step One: Live the easy life

• Step Two: Get comfortable with lots of low-pay responsibility

• Step Three: Have your boss say “btw the store is sold” after you confide you got engaged and are saving up for a wedding  

• Step Four: Sign an employment contract with the new owner

• Step Five: Have them strip it away after months of being led on

• Step Six: Realize you’ve been living in a vicious cycle of depression, self-doubt, and unhappiness with every aspect of your life

• Step Seven: Do something about it

                  Everyone will experience burnout, writer’s block, or just plain sadness. Those around me share the belief that we work for money, regardless of if it fulfills our happiness. Don’t get me wrong; I recognize that this reality is true for 99% of the population. My adult years so far have been dead-end jobs and sacrificing my dream just to have a bigger savings account, and it was all stripped away and depleted due to an ignorant boss. With a stubborn spirit, I’ve decided I will not continue to waste my energy and youth in environments that do not nurture my spirit. Instead of letting myself rot in the wrong climate, I’d rather grow at a painstakingly slow pace in the right dirt. Deeper roots grow stronger trees, and I’m done planting myself in the wrong gardens. I’ll update as I progress, but burnout isn’t a simple fix. It’s a lifestyle adjustment. Recognizing your worth and doing simple tasks to improve your mental health. I sympathize with everyone in similar situations, but rest assured that your future is not bleak. Our futures are what we make them to be, and I’m going to give everything I have to a life of travel and writing.