Wow, all four, thanks!! :D Buying the books is an excellent way to support Nightschool (also casually gifting copies unto unsuspecting friends/enemies/frenemies on their birthday is a clear winner and saves you the headache of choosing a gift), but another good way to support Nightschool is to make sure your Local Libraries have it in their collections. Just roll up to the front desk all casual-like and innocently inquire if they have this award-winning series on their esteemed shelves. If they do, tell them they’re made of awesome and casually roll on to the next library. If they don’t, look very sad and disappointed that you cannot get access to this award winning series in this particular library, and ask when might it become available. If you have a dog or a cat that can be trained to look sad and would be willing to accompany you, I’ve found it quadruples the effect and results(*).
To answer the other question—yesss, there will be a second series for Nightschool, it’s just going to take a while to get going, due to several factors. In meantime, this is what I stare at every day while I draw at my art desk:
(* this statement may or may not be a bold-faced lie >u>)
Thanks very much for reading, here’s hoping I can get back to Nightschool soon!! >.<b
“Do what you love” disguises the fact that being able to choose a career primarily for personal reward is a privilege, a sign of socioeconomic class. Even if a self-employed graphic designer had parents who could pay for art school and co-sign a lease for a slick Brooklyn apartment, she can bestow DWYL as career advice upon those covetous of her success.
If we believe that working as a Silicon Valley entrepreneur or a museum publicist or a think-tank acolyte is essential to being true to ourselves, what do we believe about the inner lives and hopes of those who clean hotel rooms and stock shelves at big-box stores? The answer is: nothing.
a couple of other quotes from the article i really like:
According to this way of thinking, labor is not something one does for compensation but is an act of love. If profit doesn’t happen to follow, presumably it is because the worker’s passion and determination were insufficient. Its real achievement is making workers believe their labor serves the self and not the marketplace
Do what you love and you’ll never work a day in your life! Before succumbing to the intoxicating warmth of that promise, it’s critical to ask, “Who, exactly, benefits from making work feel like nonwork?” “Why should workers feel as if they aren’t working when they are?” In masking the very exploitative mechanisms of labor that it fuels, DWYL is, in fact, the most perfect ideological tool of capitalism. If we acknowledged all of our work as work, we could set appropriate limits for it, demanding fair compensation and humane schedules that allow for family and leisure time.