For eight long years, I worked with the Federal government. I showed up, did the job, and even found moments of meaning. But then it happened—I got Doged. Yes, Doged. And no, that’s not a typo. It’s what I call the soul-crushing experience of receiving one too many cryptic, contradictory emails from a man who represented the unraveling of my professional life.
It all started with the emails. The first few were strange. One moment, our acting administrator—let’s call him “Doge”—was ordering us to report suspected DEI hires like we were back in McCarthy-era America. His tone was severe, almost apocalyptic, warning of penalties so vague they stirred the darkest parts of our imaginations.
The next email would be sunny and upbeat, urging us to “make work fun again!” as we transitioned from remote life back into the fluorescent-lit cubicles of government service. The whiplash was real. Reading his emails felt like playing emotional Russian Roulette. Unfortunately, one day, the bullet was in the chamber.
I had been officially selected for RIF—Reduction in Force. I’d been Doged, dismissed not with gratitude or dignity, but with the sterile stamp of bureaucracy. It wasn’t entirely unexpected. Rumors had circulated for weeks. Still, when the notice arrived, it hit hard.
But that dismissal, that doging, led to something else—something better.
The First Nudge: Writing During the Pandemic
In 2020, when the world slowed to a halt during the COVID-19 pandemic, I received my first nudge toward writing. Stuck indoors and surrounded by a mounting fear of death, I asked myself: What’s the one thing I’d regret not doing if tomorrow never came?
For me, the answer was simple—I wanted to write.
I had always thought it would be cool to become a writer. I admired authors who brought fantasy worlds to life, twisted classic tales into thrilling new experiences, or made me laugh with their oddball humor. So, I started to write. I joined Vocal, a platform that issued writing challenges that felt like creative exams. Some I passed. Others? Not so much. But I grew with every entry.
Then, as life picked up—work, family, responsibilities—my writing started to fade. The spark became routine. The joy was lost in the daily grind. I put writing aside, telling myself it was a phase. A hobby. Nothing more.
The Second Nudge: Losing My Job
But life has a funny way of redirecting us. After I was laid off, I found myself filling out job application after job application, only to feel a sinking pit in my stomach when I imagined actually getting hired.
That pit? That was the whisper. A small voice inside me was saying, This isn’t what you want. At first, I ignored it. But with every click of the “Submit Application” button, the whisper grew louder.
Eventually, the thought that looped in my mind like a stuck dryer was this: I wish I could write for a living. That would be cool.
And so, the nudge became a push. Writing wasn’t just something I wanted to do—it was something I needed to do.
Taking the Leap Into Writing
That’s when I made the leap. I stopped treating writing like a pastime and started treating it like a profession. I read, watched writing courses, and absorbed advice from authors I admired. One quote from Margaret Atwood in her MasterClass resonated deeply:
That’s my mantra now. I write every day, not because it’s easy but because it’s worth it. Rejection is part of the process. Insecurity is a shadow I’ve come to know well. But every word I write takes me closer to who I truly am.
My Writing Focus: Fantasy, Romantasy, and Humor
My stories live in strange worlds. Some are reimagined fairy tales where heroes become villains and villains become something… else. I love romantasy—the blend of romance and fantasy—where mythical beings face very human dilemmas.
Take, for instance, my work-in-progress about a mermaid-turned-human who finds herself entangled with the Korean god of hell. Or the light-hearted tale of a time-traveling, talking chicken who stumbles onto a small farm and changes one man’s life forever. Yes, I wrote that. And yes, I laughed while doing it.
I even sprinkle in writing advice for other aspiring authors, because I know how lonely and confusing the early days can be.
Writing After a Government Layoff: A New Chapter
Looking back, getting Doged might’ve been the best thing to happen to me. It forced me to confront a truth I had long buried: I didn’t want another job. I wanted this life—the one I build, word by word, paragraph by paragraph.
This journey isn’t easy. There are days I doubt myself. Days when my creativity feels dry. Days when I ask, Who am I to think I can make it as a writer?
But then I remember that email, that pink-slip-style message that ended one chapter and began another. And I write.
Final Thoughts
If you’re facing a career shake-up, feeling lost after a layoff, or staring at a dream you’ve put off for too long, consider this your nudge. You don’t have to have it all figured out. Just begin. Fail. Learn. Try again. You never know where your words might take you.
And if you’re already on the path, like me—scared, excited, unsure—know that you’re not alone. Let’s fail better, together.
