Dear Kristine Scalzi:

I sort of love your husband. Don’t worry, it’s not that kind of love, or anything. Nor am I a stalker of any kind. But the strength of my feelings are such that I just felt the need to apologize. So… sorry about that. If it truly bothers you, perhaps you could ask him to be less brilliant? Great; thanks.

Yours,
Mir

I feel better, now that I’ve gotten that off my chest.

The thing of it is, John Scalzi wrote something so completely awesome that you’re not allowed to read any further until you go read it yourself. Especially if you’re an aspiring writer. Go! I’ll wait.

In case you didn’t take the time to read it—or even if you did, but you’re a Cliff Notes type—allow me summarize:

Writers are stupid with their money. Don’t be stupid. The end.

Really, most people are stupid with their money. But then again, many people can afford to be. Most writers cannot. And let me tell you something: If you can afford to be stupid, the chances of that lasting are pretty slim. So be extra smart while the revenue flows, and it won’t hurt so much when it doesn’t.

But really, nothing I say can hold a candle to how Scalzi says it. I mean, just look at this poetry:

Because it very often appears to me that regardless of how smart and clever and interesting and fun my fellow writers are on every other imaginable subject, when it comes to money — and specifically their own money — writers have as much sense as chimps on crack.

Is it any wonder this piece made my heart go pitter-pat?

Two of my favorite subjects—writing as a career and smart money management—brought together in such an eloquent way… well… it just brings a little tear to my eye.

Mind you, I think I’m pretty savvy when it comes to finances. I mean, if you’re willing to overlook that whole forgetting-to-pay-my-taxes thing (oops!), that is. But although Scalzi’s piece is genius from beginning to end, here’s the very best part:

Every time you get a check, divide it in two. One half is yours to pay for bills, rent and groceries, and if there’s anything left over, to play with. The other half, which you deposit into an interest-bearing account of some sort, goes to federal, state and local taxes and your Social Security taxes, and anything that’s left over goes to fund your IRA [...].

[...]

Yes, it sucks to take half of your money and never see it again. But you know what else sucks? Owing the IRS a huge chunk of money sucks. Hospitals playing musical chairs with you because they don’t want your uninsured ass cluttering up their emergency room sucks. Not ever being able to stop working because you didn’t plan for it sucks. All of these things, in fact, suck worse. So suck it up and put that half of the check aside.

It’s not a very complicated idea, you know. But it’s one that rarely occurs to freelancers. Heck, I thought I was doing great, setting aside a third of every check for taxes. But if I just took half of it right off the top? Well, then I’d really be on to something.

(Not that I won’t miss the year-end scramble to try to figure out if I have any money left for my IRA….)

The reality is that most freelancers (of any kind) are so excited and relieved to finally be pulling in actual money—not to mention so broke by the time it happens—that they cannot imagine setting aside any of it. Because they need it all for silly things like bills.

Here’s my challenge to all of us: If you’re making enough money that you can already pay your bills and your taxes, start setting half your income aside, as Scalzi suggests. I’m very curious to see if this is even possible on a regular person’s salary (I don’t know about your earnings, but Scalzi’s salary far outruns mine!) in any sustainable way. I mean, it’s certainly the right goal.

Is it doable without earning 6 figures? I aim to find out.