Creative Budget

Money is not the Enemy

You Won’t Earn It Back (Or So They Said)

I remember it was sometime in the morning when I got a message from a publisher I was with back in 2019 who said: “I just don’t want you to put in what you won’t earn back.”

Not gong to lie, that line hit me pretty hard.

I had been talking about hiring someone to do a cover and the implication behind that sentence felt clear: my book probably wouldn’t sell well enough to justify the investment. I felt frustration, annoyance, and a little disbelief.

But my actual response?

“Okay, bet. Let’s see if you’re right.”

If you know me, my response isn’t a surprise. I love being told what I can’t be able to do and then go and do it.

In some ways, my publisher was right. My book, or I, was not at a point where I could put something out into the world and recoup my investments right away. But publishing is a long-term game, and how you play it will determine how you win.

Learning the Money Side of Creativity

Since then, I’ve learned a lot about finances — what works, when to invest, and when not to. I’ve learned when to hold firm on price and when to give a little. And I’m still learning, because business evolves. Markets shift. Reader expectations change. If you don’t adapt to that movement, you get left behind.

That’s why paying attention to trends and understanding what your audience wants — and how they want it delivered — matters so much.

But the biggest mindset that has carried me through all of this is simple:

You can always make money.

I’ve said that for years. The idea that I can’t doesn’t make sense to me. The real question isn’t whether money can be made — it’s how.

And in those moments, two questions matter more than anything:

• What is my break-even point?

• What is my next investment point?

Knowing those two numbers gives you clarity when emotions get loud. Your break-even point tells you the minimum your project needs to survive, removing guesswork and helping you make grounded decisions instead of hopeful ones. Your investment point, on the other hand, shows you where growth begins — the moment a project stops draining resources and starts fueling the next idea. Together, they turn creativity from a gamble into a strategy. Instead of asking “Will this work?” you start asking “What does this need to work, and what happens after it does?” That shift changes how you budget, how you price, and how you pace yourself — and it’s often the difference between burning out on a good idea and building momentum from it.

Budget Shapes Everything

Before you create anything, you need to know your budget. That number quietly determines more than most creatives realize.

I learned that the hard way when I tried releasing a short story every week. On paper, it sounded exciting. In reality, the way I handled my investments left me operating at a loss. The discouragement knocked me off my writing horse for a while.

Ironically, those same stories are still up and still selling — without much help from me.

Budget awareness doesn’t kill creativity. It guides it.

In comics, for example, telling myself I have a $3,000 art budget for interiors changes:

1. Who I can hire

2. Whether print is realistic

3. Where the project will be hosted

4. How I price the book and how many copies I need to sell

That single number becomes your compass — grounding your decisions, protecting your momentum, and giving your creativity a framework to grow without quietly draining you. When you know your budget, you’re not guessing your way through the process anymore; you’re building with intention, setting realistic expectations, and creating a path where the project can sustain itself long enough to succeed.

Where Your Money Goes Matters

Another piece creatives often overlook is what happens after you earn money. A simple structure can save you a lot of stress:

• Profit

• Taxes

• Next Project

Separating income into these three buckets keeps you organized, prevents surprises, and makes future planning easier. Think of it like giving every dollar a job the moment it arrives, so you’re not scrambling later when bills, tax season, or your next idea shows up at the same time. Even if the amounts feel small at first, this habit builds financial clarity and confidence — and over time, that clarity makes bigger creative risks feel far less intimidating.

The Promotion Problem

Promotion is where many creatives hesitate. We want to promote our work without sounding pushy or desperate. We are great with creating worlds, characters, or fiddling with long form prose until reading them pulls a delightful sigh from a reader. But pitching our work? Sheeeeeet….

Novelists often feel self-conscious. Artists can too. Musicians usually handle promotion better because performance is baked into their craft. That direct way of speaking and the pressure of knowing the moment you lose someone’s attention, you lost the sale is a heavy weight to carry.

But if you’re creating something, talk about it.

Promotion isn’t bragging. It’s commitment — to your work, to yourself, and to the people who might need what you created. The more you share what you’re doing, the more opportunities you create for discovery.

It may start small. It may feel discouraging. Keep going anyway. Momentum builds quietly before it becomes visible. For example, for the comic I am working on coming out in May, I have already started talking about it and the company ( Little Lanterns Comic ) online.

Think of promotion as documentation rather than persuasion. You’re simply inviting others to witness the journey — the drafts, the lessons, the small wins. Consistency builds familiarity, and familiarity builds trust. Over time, the work finds its audience because you gave it the chance to be seen.

If you don’t talk about what you are doing, why do you expect anyone else to do it for you?

The Long Game of Creative Work

The comment about not earning back my investment didn’t sit right — not just emotionally, but strategically.

My book wasn’t a limited shelf item. It wasn’t perishable. It was something that could keep selling for years.

And it does.

I made back the money I invested in 2021. Everything earned since then has been profit — money that now helps fund new projects. Some folks will tell you that after the first year, you won’t get sales anymore. I want to talk to the marketing team behind these books and ask why they suck at their job. Because promoting a backlog and showing you have a proven track record for writing should be the highlight rather than trying grab quick cash in the first six months.

That’s the long game creatives sometimes forget: your backlist is an asset.

Lessons from the Short Story Experiment

Going back to my short story-a-week experiment, the math looked like this:

• $150 per story (editing, cover, etc.)

• $30 per month income at the time

The concept wasn’t the problem. Execution was.

I didn’t bundle stories into box sets. My “Also By” pages weren’t always filled out. Weekly promotion was inconsistent. I had a strong idea, but I unintentionally sabotaged its sustainability.

That realization hurt — but it also taught me more than success would have.

And honestly? I still think about trying it again, this time with everything I’ve learned.

Because sometimes growth isn’t about abandoning old ideas. It’s about returning to them with better strategy.

Practical Advice for Creatives Managing Money

If you’re navigating the financial side of creativity, here are some grounded principles that can help — especially if spreadsheets and business talk aren’t your favorite things.

1. Treat Creativity Like a Business (Even If It’s Small)

You don’t need a huge audience or full-time income to start thinking strategically. Simply tracking what you spend on a project and what you earn back gives you clarity. Even a basic note in your phone or a small spreadsheet can show patterns over time — and those patterns help you make smarter choices on your next project.

2. Know the Difference Between Investment and Validation

Some expenses genuinely improve your project. Others just make you feel safer or more “official.” A good editor is an investment. Buying five different logo variations because you’re unsure? That might be validation spending. This isn’t about guilt — it’s about awareness so your money supports progress, not anxiety.

3. Start Sustainable, Then Scale

It’s tempting to launch big, go all-in, and try to do everything at once. But if the pace can’t be maintained, burnout usually follows. Instead, build a version of your creative process that you can realistically repeat — and once that system works, then expand it.

4. Use Your Backlist Strategically

Older projects aren’t dead projects. They’re assets. Bundling stories, refreshing covers, updating back matter, or running periodic promotions can bring new readers into work you already created. Sometimes the easiest income isn’t from making something new — it’s from helping people discover what already exists.

5. Build Cash Flow, Not Just Profit

A project might be profitable eventually but still feel stressful in the moment if money goes out faster than it comes in. Try pacing expenses when possible and looking for small, consistent income streams that keep things moving. Stability doesn’t come from one big win — it often comes from steady trickles over time.

6. Learn From Every Project

Every creative release teaches you something — even the messy ones. Maybe you overspent. Maybe you priced too low. Maybe something you thought would flop quietly performed well. Treat each project like a lesson instead of a verdict. The only real loss is repeating the same mistake without reflection.

7. Adapt As Needed

You have to keep an eye on what’s happening in your industry and be ready to pivot. It can feel overwhelming because the landscape shifts fast and often. Right now, BookTok dominates book discovery. Before that, YouTube carried huge weight. And yes — there was a time when MySpace felt essential.

Where your readers gather is where your voice needs to show up. Some authors eventually build audiences strong enough to follow them anywhere. Until then, flexibility is part of the job. Pay attention, experiment without fear, and treat each platform as a temporary stage — not a permanent home.

A pivot I did last year was taking my very first book, Queen of Swords & Silence, and pricing it at 99 cents on Kindle. Why? Because I wanted a tempting, low-friction way for readers to experience my work. There’s always the fear that low price signals low quality, but sometimes accessibility matters more than perception. That decision wasn’t about devaluing the book — it was about opening the door.

Closing Costs

Creative finances are messy. They’re emotional. They’re unpredictable. But they’re also learnable. You will overspend sometimes (I have). You will miss opportunities. You will misjudge what will sell and be surprised by what quietly earns for years. None of that disqualifies you — it simply means you’re gathering the kind of experience no course or book can hand you. Learning and rolling with the moment is what matters. Never stop, just pivot.

Because the truth is, your creative career isn’t built on one project. It’s built on the body of work you keep showing up to create — and the systems you build to support that work over time.

If tracking the money side of things has ever felt overwhelming, you’re not alone. To help with that, I’ll be dropping a simple balance tracking Google Sheet this Thursday for paid subscribers — something practical you can use to see your numbers clearly, organize your projects, and start making decisions with confidence instead of guesswork.

And if you stay in the game long enough, learning as you go and adjusting as needed, you might just prove a few people — including your past self — wrong.