Category Archives: writing

Will Work For More Work

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I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. My parents tell stories of me self-publishing books, minuscule ten-page “novels” held together by scotch tape and staples, telling the story of the unlikely Quarter Horse who wins the Kentucky Derby, or the girl who goes to Ross to buy a hat.

I continued to write into high school and college, transitioning my work into blog format (first on LiveJournal, then Blogger, and now here) as the internet became popularized. In high school, I self-published two short books of prose (thanks to my mom and her office’s Xerox machine), ebb. and a blatant misuse of the semicolon ;. In college, I wrote first for the campus’s Jewish newspaper, The Leviathan, and then for the satirical newspaper, Fish Rap Live!.

As graduation approached, I began sending out resumes to Northern California-based newspapers and magazines. I got a lot of rejection, followed by some unreasonable job offers (ie. the offer of “we’d like to bring you on full-time, but we need you to start NOW” three months before my college graduation, or the offer shortly after graduation that promised a lucrative pay of $1,600 per month). Finally, a wonderful woman at a San Jose-based weekly gave me the opportunity to freelance.

My first story, a piece on a local Olympian, made the front page. I was hooked. I continued to write for the weekly and its sister papers, traveling around the South Bay to interview people, desperately transcribing those interviews late into the night (after coming home from my full-time job in higher education), and putting the pieces of the journalistic puzzle together to create what would become a published news story.

When I moved to Merced, my employer told me I was not to have contact with the media because of my connection to the local university, and I was forced to give up my freelancing. I kept writing, as evidenced by this blog, my award-winning paper on the history of abortion (written for my master’s program in history), and the umpteen novels I’ve started (but not finished) over the last six years.

But there don’t seem to be enough hours in the day to work a full time job and write. At least not seriously. At least not in a way that could become my career.

So with this move to Seattle, I’ve decided that it’s an ideal time to make that transition. Sure, I’ve been applying to jobs in higher education, because it never hurts to have that stability, or those benefits. But with each rejection, each “we’ve decided to go a different way,” I feel more and more confident that writing is not only want I want – it’s also what the universe wants for me.

I compiled a list of newspapers and magazines based in the Seattle metropolitan area, built a website, and started emailing editors. I introduced myself. I told my story. I linked them to my website, which features my resume and samples of my writing. And while I’ve gotten quite a few rejections – mostly of the “sorry, we just don’t have funding” variety – I’ve also gotten quite a few offers for paid freelancing work.

However, I’ve also had offers for unpaid freelancing work, and this is where the business of being a writer – and specifically, starting out as a writer – becomes tricky territory.

I think that taking an unpaid gig or two, just to get into the practice of writing, just to get my name out there, is a great idea. It can also potentially lead to my being referred to other publications for paid freelance work, or even being taken on as a paid regular. But several of my friends (and my husband) have balked at the idea of my doing something for nothing.

I crowdsourced the question, posting it on Twitter and Facebook in hopes that I’d be talked in or out of it. Dan said, “The reason people are professionals in a field is because they get paid to do it.”  A friend said, “Get paid for your work, because if you don’t value it, no one will.” But I still feel like this could be a good opportunity. And I feel like if I pass it up now because it has no monetary value at the moment, I might be missing out on other opportunities down the line that do.

Then, an acquaintance who happens to write for a living said this:

So why can’t I go into this with my eyes open? Why can’t I volunteer to write in hopes that it will land me paid positions in the future, with the understanding that if it becomes too time consuming or too much of a job, I can back away at any time?

I’m torn. Because on one hand, I do want this to be my career, and it can’t very well be a career if I’m not making money. But on the other hand, doesn’t everyone have to start somewhere? Maybe this – with some paying gigs, some non-paying gigs, and some writing just for me – is my somewhere.

Are there people who aren’t creative?

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The other night, at our hotel in Sacramento, after evicting Dan from the hotel room because I needed some time to myself, I sat outside on the patio and looked at the stars. It reminded me of being twelve years old at sleep-away camp, laying out on the basketball courts in my pajamas with members of my bunk and the select boys’ bunk that we happened to be socializing with that night. One of our counselors was talking to us about constellations, but I wasn’t paying attention. I just kept thinking about the cute boy from Bunk 3 who was inches away from me and WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?

(Answer: Nothing, because we were twelve, and under adult supervision.)

But I can’t forget that feeling that I had there, laying on that concrete, wishing, wondering. There were expectations and feelings of hope and things that I just don’t experience anymore as a grown-up. (My life is, unfortunately, far too stable now.)

And sitting on that uncomfortable patio chair next to a flickering garden lamp, I had the sudden urge to write. I wanted to craft the perfect words to create the perfect sentiment so that I could show it to people and have them respond with, “I know EXACTLY what you mean!”

But there are people who don’t do that. There are people who don’t have the urge to write, draw, paint, photograph, sing. People who are content just to think and live and be within themselves. Maybe it’s because they want to keep all of the joy and pain and wonder and heartache they experience on a daily basis to themselves. Maybe they think no one will care. Or maybe they don’t even realize they’re experiencing all of that – maybe they believe that life is dull and emotions are trite and not worth expressing.

Where are those people hiding? Because I want to meet them. I want to ask them how they can not feel. How they can not have that urge to make something that is entirely theirs. Because I will never know what that feels like, but I kind of want to.

Responses to Spam: Nancy Full of Love

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Subject: Nice to know you

Hello dear!

My name is Nancy 23 yrs old single never married have no kid. I come across your contact in search for someone to be my best friend with hope to lead to something serious. I have free sensual mind full of love I am interested in making friends as I believe it is the richness of life, I will like a long term friendship with you because I derived interest communication with different people and lean new things. I believe friendship brings favor, friendship brings unity and friendship means treasure. So let’s see if we have the same taught and feelings. Contact my email address nancyphilemon02@yahoo.com Thanks and take care.

Nancy

 

Hi Nancy,

I was so pleased to receive your email this morning. I, too, am looking for a best friend. I found that after my last best friend died (of natural causes, I assure you) that I have been unable to find someone to fill her shoes. (She wore a size eleven, which is quite a bit larger than average for most women.)

I do have a few questions, though. I’m concerned about your wanting our friendship to “lead to something serious.” Can you clarify what you mean by that? I’m not at all looking for a serious friendship. In fact, I think that the seriousness of my last best friendship may have been the cause of its end (aside from my best friend’s death, I mean). You see, my late best friend did not love to laugh as much as I did, and found no humor in my jokes. This is what led to my smothering her in her sleep one night. (But I assure you, again, her death was not my fault – she simply stopped breathing!)

I’m also concerned that you’re a little young to be my best friend. This is not to say that I don’t have friends who are younger than me – certainly I do! – but I worry that with such a large age gap, we may not have much in common. For example, you say you are “single never married have no kid.” But what are your goals? I’m interested in finding a best friend with whom I can travel the world, but I worry that your being single might result in your sleeping with every handsome man (or woman – I wouldn’t want to assume!) we meet. While I applaud your “free sensual mind full of love,” I am concerned that your constant need for romantic attention may tarnish what is intended to be our bonding time as new best friends.

Please do reply if you still think we may be a good match. I also believe that a best friendship is “the richness of life,” as you say, and look forward to exploring the world of unity and treasure with you.

Best wishes,
Tori

Are pen names still a thing?

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After spending the last few weeks having one of those lovely “OMG WTF AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE” existential crises, I’ve decided the only appropriate solution is for me to start writing again. Even if it’s only part-time, even if it’s not paid, even if it doesn’t go anywhere. Because I need to.

Full disclosure: I used to be a legitimate writer. Before I met Dan, before I had this blog, before I even had a college degree, I freelanced for Silicon Valley Community Newspapers in San Jose. Following graduation, I was offered a full-time position, but gave it up to continue working in education because the job in education paid better.

You heard what I just said, right? After YEARS of dreaming of becoming a professional writer, I turned down the opportunity to do just that because I was worried about money.

Welcome to adulthood, I guess.

Six years later, I still haven’t forgiven myself. Yes, my life as a journalist would have been a rocky one. I’m not sure the job offered benefits, and it definitely wouldn’t have covered my rent, but I would have been doing something I loved. But with newspapers representing a dying industry and me not wanting to end up living under the New York City subways with the CEO of Friendster (anyone who gets that reference gets a cookie), I opted for the safer choice. I stayed with the program I had already been with for over a year, at the university I had graduated from, with a salary that would pay my bills.

I kept freelancing until I moved to Merced, at which point I was told that I couldn’t work with the local newspapers there because of my employer’s tenuous relationship with the media. So instead, I blogged. First on LiveJournal, then here, chronicling my life and keeping the writing bug at bay for at least a little while.

But I think the time has come when I’m ready to move back into writing. I’ve set a consistent blogging schedule here, and have reached out to other blogs about contributing. I’m stepping up my networking on Twitter and 20SB, and am generally hoping that I will be able to make something of myself within the creative community.

But there’s a problem: I’m not there yet.

I still have a professional life outside of writing, and I want to keep that separate. I don’t want my personal blog or my personal Twitter or anything that would lead back to them to be Googleable, lest my employer (or any of my students) find me. But there is no such thing as anonymity, even on the internet, and even if there was, having it defeats the purpose of what I’m trying to accomplish. So what’s a girl to do?

This is where I started toying with the idea of a pen name. A pseudonym would allow me to write freely, honestly, about anything and everything – family, friends, work – without running the risk of immediate discovery. It would also give me a consistent persona by which I would be identified, allowing me to develop and maintain a reputation (and possibly get paid) for my writing.

But do people do that? Are pen names still a thing? I don’t know anyone who uses one, and the ones I do know of (nowadays, anyway) are pretty terrible. Not to mention, how do people manage to keep track of multiple identities? No doubt that in the days before social networking, it was much easier to publish under one name and live under another. But now, you publish, tweet, blog, and probably go on book tours under that pen name. As someone who’s easily overwhelmed, I’m not sure that’s the best option for me.

What do you guys think? What’s your take on publishing under a your real name vs. a pseudonym and the inherent risk it poses to your non-writing-related livelihood?

You’re killing me here.

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The Republican and I went to Buffalo Wings & Rings in Modesto on Friday night. Not only was the service terrible, but they also had the sign below on display. Please note the grammatical error so severe that it made my skin crawl, and also spawned an argument between The Republican and I because he SWEARS the apostrophe is supposed to be there. IT’S NOT POSSESSIVE, GODDAMNIT.

Facebooking at the Brink of Sanity

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AskMen.com has this psychotic article about how women use Facebook as a passive-aggressive tool to make their ex-boyfriends jealous. The Frisky has a pretty good breakdown of the ridiculousness of the article, but I wanted to point out one major issue with this piece: it was written by a woman.

If I have learned only one thing in my twenty-four years as a member of the female sex, it is that it’s not just us. It’s everyone. We’re all a little crazy to varying degrees, sort of like we’re all a little gay to varying degrees. But my guess is that the men who read AskMen.com don’t like hearing that, either.

What these men want to hear is made pretty apparent by the tone of the article: It’s women who are crazy. It’s women who are manipulative. It’s women who are at fault. And doesn’t all of that sound more believable if it comes from a woman?

Nevermind that half the stuff in the article is just as common among men. I personally don’t know anyone who created a fake profile to stalk their ex-partner, but I know plenty of assholish guys who post sensitive photos (item #2: manipulating through photos), voice their concerns about office behavior via their status updates (item #3: passive-aggressive status updates), and list themselves as being in “open relationships” with their friends (item #5: fake relationship statuses). In fact, I would argue that I have even more guy friends than girl friends who do this. Why, you ask? Well, why not?

The point of Facebook is not to act as a resume, or as a dating profile (although AskMen.com’s opinion seems to differ on that latter point). The point of Facebook is to act as a networking tool that exposes people’s personalities. Whether those personalities are the kind that throw sixteen virtual vampires at you daily, post whiney status updates, or joke around about their sexual orientation and relationship status is determined entirely by the individual – not by their gender.

So while the author may actually believe the stereotypes she sets forth in her piece, I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that she’s under a lot of pressure working for a male-dominated publication for which her pieces are probably edited by a person with testosterone for brains. And then I’m going to vow to never read AskMen.com again.

A Disclaimer

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Several of my friends and family members were put off by yesterday’s post on celebrating adult milestones. Unfortunately, this is not the first time I’ve experienced this. I’ve been told multiple times by multiple people that my blog shouldn’t be so “personal,” or that I should be more “careful” about what I write because someone’s feelings might get hurt.

I didn’t start this blog for it to be a benign list of my daily activities, a chronicle of what I bought while grocery shopping, or a replica of Cute Overload featuring only pictures of my pets (though I’m not going to lie – I do love posting those). I started this blog to chronicle my life, my experiences, and my opinions, and that includes the good, the bad, the ugly, and the offensive.

But in all fairness, I feel like those of you who take offense at what I write occasionally don’t understand the full message I’m trying to get across. You find one part that bothers you, and latch on to that as a way to feed your anger and to provide justification for your emotions. And while your feelings are legitimate, your lack of understanding is not. If you can’t appreciate or understand what I am trying to say, ask me about it in a non-accusatory way. I’m happy to explain myself if my original message was at all unclear.

With that said, I am going to continue using this blog as I originally intended – as a space where I can write and express freely, and as an outlet for my opinions, feelings, and emotions on all things political, social, and personal.