Running a Bookshop while also working another job.

The path that brought me to House of Joy has been… varied.

I’ve worked in retail while at university. I’ve worked in higher education, starting in the equipment office before eventually teaching first-year practical film. I worked in a children’s care home. I’ve been a freelance videographer and editor.

And then there’s theatre.

If you had told 15-year-old me that I’d one day work in theatre, I would have been thrilled. Back then, I wanted to be an actor. Later, that shifted into filmmaking (still very much a work in progress). But theatre always felt magical to me in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

Around 18 months ago, when Joy was still a baby, I found myself overwhelmed. I was teaching film practical at Essex, working in a children’s care home, trying to be present at home and, honestly, spinning too many plates at once.

So I left the university teaching and started looking for something different. Something creative.

That’s when I saw a job at the Quay Theatre in Sudbury.

I had never worked in theatre before. No real experience. But I applied anyway.

And somehow, I got an interview.

I remember feeling excited but mostly terrified. The nerves never really went away. I finished the interview and immediately called Erica to tell her:

“I’m absolutely never getting this job.”

I just felt completely out of my depth.

Which was frustrating, because I loved everything about the place. I loved the building. I loved the Head of Production. I loved the Theatre Manager. I could instantly picture myself there, which somehow made the rejection feel inevitable.

A few days passed, and I assumed I hadn’t got it.

Out of sheer desperation for money, I had started delivering parcels for Evri around the same time of my interview at the Quay.

(For the record: I was an ethical Evri driver. No parcels launched over fences from 40 yards away.)

On my second proper day delivering parcels (four days after my interview), I got a call from the Head of Production.

I got the job.

I was so relieved I cried.

I carried on doing Evri for a little while after, but almost immediately the Quay started to feel like home. And somehow, against all expectations, I found myself loving my job for probably the first time in my life.

When House of Joy opened, I kept working my “proper job.”

Partly because I didn’t want to place the entire financial weight of my life onto the bookshop immediately. I wanted House of Joy to have room to breathe. To grow without the pressure of instantly paying all the bills.

But also because I genuinely love working at the Quay.

That doesn’t mean it’s easy.

Theatre means antisocial hours. Erica works as a teacher. There are weeks where we barely see each other. Some of my busiest weeks at the Quay — Tuesday to Saturday runs of shows — perfectly overlap with House of Joy opening hours.

During the very first week of opening the shop, I’d work 8:30–4 at House of Joy, walk home to pick Joy up from her childminder, hand her over to Erica and then head to Sudbury for a 6–10:30 shift at the theatre.

It’s been a lot.

There’s also the commute. Forty-five minutes door to door on a good day. Easily over an hour if there are roadworks.

Or a tractor.

(Essex/Suffolk life.)

But despite the exhaustion, one thing I’ve felt consistently since opening House of Joy is support.

Everyone at the Quay has backed me in ways I’ll never forget. They ask about the shop, celebrate the wins, check in when things feel difficult. It’s a reminder that sometimes a workplace becomes something much bigger than work.

The people at the Quay feel like family.

And while House of Joy is very much my dream, I feel incredibly lucky to have accidentally stumbled into another place that feels like home too.