Almost five years ago I was interviewing for a job at a facility for the disabled. Sitting across from me was a man I would come to respect, admire, befriend, and loathe in equal portions in the years to come. But in one moment he became one of my favorite interviewers of all time. And he did it by asking one question:
What would you like to be doing in five years?
Having family members in HR gives you baggage when it comes to your answers in interviews. I had been coached, instructed, and outright ordered not to say too much about my creative ambitions. I had no real background or experience at that time, and one member of my HR mafia had told me that talking about myself was verboden. It was all about what the company needed. I needed to focus on that at all costs.
But, seeing as I already had a bad temp job to go back to in an hour... I figured what the hell.
So I told this man that I was going to be a writer. In five years I would be making a living – if not a profit – by my pen. I believed it. And so did he. I got the job.
It took me three years to get over what I had to go through at that facility. But as the past slips further and further behind me, I can put things – and why they happened – increasingly into perspective. I may not have been able to admit it when I walked out the facility’s doors for the last time, but my time there made me what I am today. It gave me calouses I didn't have, understanding I couldn't have seen otherwise... and a determination to make that one statement true.
I didn’t realize how deep that determination went until I updated my resume (Me go through another round of job searching? How shocking....) and realized it had been almost five years since that wonderful little interview.
Life isn’t perfect. I’m certainly not raking in truckloads of cash I envisioned, and my fiction career has taken a backseat while I’ve built up a client list. But I’ve found a way to write things and have people pay me for the privilege.
It’s been nearly five years and I am a writer. That’s something that would have blown the mind of the girl sitting in that interview. But I honestly believe that the road to get here started because she wasn’t afraid to answer that one good question.
.
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Monday, December 6, 2010
That old ennui...
Without warning, and entirely against the desires of its residents, winter has come to Cleveland. Multiple feet of the dreaded cold white stuff has been dumped on us, and it seems as though there is more to come.
The end of the year is just around the corner, change coming steadily but inevitably, and I find myself becoming far too introspective than is good for my mental health.
Being a morbid sort of person at heart, each year I look around and wonder why this year was any different from the ones that proceeded it. And, admittedly, most years’ positives and negatives tend to cancel themselves out. Bills were paid, but no progress made in writing. Had my health, but had nothing more to show for my efforts. Its no wonder I get mopey and thoughtful around this time of year.
I’d be lying if I denied that that old Ennui is creeping back into my bones. That deep, thoughtful sadness that typically can only be located in black and white French films where the characters subsist on nothing but coffee and cigarettes. Call it the Blues, call it SAD, call it reality... but lately I find myself thinking back on the failures of the year gone by.
Even with hours upon hours spent with new friends having exciting experiences, I still feel awkward in social situations. I finally found a day job at the institution I’ve been applying to for years... only to have the position be a temp assignment. Granted, it was a temp assignment that could have gone perm, but that carrot has recently been retracted because of an onslaught of legal technicalities.
But even while my psyche is in the grips of a brooding mood, in many ways, this year was really one of the best. Next May will mark my second year as a freelance writer – when I first started I didn’t know if I’d last more than a month. I got to work on ‘Dark of Moon’, meet the Mooner cast and crew, and I got the chance to help out with ‘Chill.’ I organized and started working on my TV Pilot thanks to two consummate pros, a shoestring budget, and some very understanding friends. And – someday in the distant future, when the stars align – we might be able to shoot a scene.
I understand the way life works well enough to know it will all even out in the end. But even in the most logical of people Ennui can stop by on a cold winter’s night and roost for a while.
The end of the year is just around the corner, change coming steadily but inevitably, and I find myself becoming far too introspective than is good for my mental health.
Being a morbid sort of person at heart, each year I look around and wonder why this year was any different from the ones that proceeded it. And, admittedly, most years’ positives and negatives tend to cancel themselves out. Bills were paid, but no progress made in writing. Had my health, but had nothing more to show for my efforts. Its no wonder I get mopey and thoughtful around this time of year.
I’d be lying if I denied that that old Ennui is creeping back into my bones. That deep, thoughtful sadness that typically can only be located in black and white French films where the characters subsist on nothing but coffee and cigarettes. Call it the Blues, call it SAD, call it reality... but lately I find myself thinking back on the failures of the year gone by.
Even with hours upon hours spent with new friends having exciting experiences, I still feel awkward in social situations. I finally found a day job at the institution I’ve been applying to for years... only to have the position be a temp assignment. Granted, it was a temp assignment that could have gone perm, but that carrot has recently been retracted because of an onslaught of legal technicalities.
But even while my psyche is in the grips of a brooding mood, in many ways, this year was really one of the best. Next May will mark my second year as a freelance writer – when I first started I didn’t know if I’d last more than a month. I got to work on ‘Dark of Moon’, meet the Mooner cast and crew, and I got the chance to help out with ‘Chill.’ I organized and started working on my TV Pilot thanks to two consummate pros, a shoestring budget, and some very understanding friends. And – someday in the distant future, when the stars align – we might be able to shoot a scene.
I understand the way life works well enough to know it will all even out in the end. But even in the most logical of people Ennui can stop by on a cold winter’s night and roost for a while.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Some thoughts on Fame and Glory via the Internet
In getting at least three major projects off the ground, and trying to keep four regular clients happy while I do so, I've been doing alot of thinking about promoting. Especially how to promote using the internet.
Like many things in life, internet success is simple but not easy. I’ve read a dozen or so articles about the most used formula for internet success. Many have used it. Quite frankly, anyone can duplicate it.
1) Find something you love. That is, something you love to the point of mental illness.
2) Create a vehicle (blog, webpage, podcast, etc) where you can express this love.
3) Set up a schedule as to when you will post updates.
4) Follow it religiously, making sure each new post/page/episode is the best it can be.
5) Talk to people who love what you love, and mention the work you're doing through your vehicle when appropriate.
6) Wait 18 – 24 months.
Julie Powell of “Julie and Julia” fame used that formula. So do my favorite movie sites Spill.com and Rotten Tomatoes. When Brunching Shuttlecocks stopped doing it, it stopped being one of the most popular sites in the world.
That’s another thing about the internet. You can’t stop when you’re tired, or hope the momentum you need will eventually come. There’s no such thing as resting on your laurels.
It’s easy to blame your readers when an internet venture stalls or outright crashes. (And trust me, I've seen more than one mod do just that...) But it’s how consistently YOU produce YOUR content that will make or break you.
And that's one thing the internet has in common with 'real world' ventures.
It doesn’t matter how cool the concept is. If it only stays a concept, it has failed.
That’s something Potential Social Media Moguls - and absentminded bloggers like Yours Truly - need to keep in mind.
Like many things in life, internet success is simple but not easy. I’ve read a dozen or so articles about the most used formula for internet success. Many have used it. Quite frankly, anyone can duplicate it.
Julie Powell of “Julie and Julia” fame used that formula. So do my favorite movie sites Spill.com and Rotten Tomatoes. When Brunching Shuttlecocks stopped doing it, it stopped being one of the most popular sites in the world.
That’s another thing about the internet. You can’t stop when you’re tired, or hope the momentum you need will eventually come. There’s no such thing as resting on your laurels.
It’s easy to blame your readers when an internet venture stalls or outright crashes. (And trust me, I've seen more than one mod do just that...) But it’s how consistently YOU produce YOUR content that will make or break you.
And that's one thing the internet has in common with 'real world' ventures.
It doesn’t matter how cool the concept is. If it only stays a concept, it has failed.
That’s something Potential Social Media Moguls - and absentminded bloggers like Yours Truly - need to keep in mind.
Monday, March 1, 2010
The briefest of victory dances
One of my many LinkedIn groups is – was – a writer’s group.
I joined it primarily because the name was cool. I checked out updates, when they came, and went about my business.
But I never got that involved. At least, not until the angry, mass e-mail.
The founder of the group – who had created it to encourage discussion AND promote his magazine – was absolutely furious. Apparently he wanted to know why so few people were using the group and he put up a poll for us to take. Over the course of 3 weeks, only two people had responded. He called us all shiftless and worthless, and accused us of joining the group to ‘Pad (Our) Resumes.’ And he promised to take the group down if there wasn’t a sincere response within the week.
When given the choice, I usually chip in to make sure online endeavors stay alive. So I went to the group’s page to see what had been going on. I had forgotten why I’d been paying a minimal amount of attention to the group… and revisiting going back refreshed my memory.
Unlike my other groups there was no reason for the members to interact. There were no job postings, no consistent writing contests, and no daily or weekly posts by the Group’s creator.
So I wrote a long response to the group. I mentioned that it was no wonder that the things had stagnated, if those who ran it weren’t making a consistent effort to stir the proverbial pot.
I even ended the post with the catchy sentence: “YOU sent out these invitations, it’s YOUR job to host.”
Perhaps it was a sign of my critical prowess that the group was closed shortly thereafter.
Of course, my smugness only lasted for a moment. I had to remind myself that my own blog had been sitting alone, bereft of new content, for at least a month.
D’oh.
I joined it primarily because the name was cool. I checked out updates, when they came, and went about my business.
But I never got that involved. At least, not until the angry, mass e-mail.
The founder of the group – who had created it to encourage discussion AND promote his magazine – was absolutely furious. Apparently he wanted to know why so few people were using the group and he put up a poll for us to take. Over the course of 3 weeks, only two people had responded. He called us all shiftless and worthless, and accused us of joining the group to ‘Pad (Our) Resumes.’ And he promised to take the group down if there wasn’t a sincere response within the week.
When given the choice, I usually chip in to make sure online endeavors stay alive. So I went to the group’s page to see what had been going on. I had forgotten why I’d been paying a minimal amount of attention to the group… and revisiting going back refreshed my memory.
Unlike my other groups there was no reason for the members to interact. There were no job postings, no consistent writing contests, and no daily or weekly posts by the Group’s creator.
So I wrote a long response to the group. I mentioned that it was no wonder that the things had stagnated, if those who ran it weren’t making a consistent effort to stir the proverbial pot.
I even ended the post with the catchy sentence: “YOU sent out these invitations, it’s YOUR job to host.”
Perhaps it was a sign of my critical prowess that the group was closed shortly thereafter.
Of course, my smugness only lasted for a moment. I had to remind myself that my own blog had been sitting alone, bereft of new content, for at least a month.
D’oh.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Writing with HTML
I'm a bit unlike most writers today. When I publish something online, I want to do the HTML coding myself. It's a byproduct from when I hosted my first web page and every line of text had to be hand-coded.
Time consuming? Of course. But as a gal who still treasures the warm childhood memory of typing in her first DOS commands, HTML coding brings my mind back to the proverbial salad days of my youth.
But it's indefinitely harder to proof a line of code than it is to proof a regular document. You have to see how each line of text fits in the page design. Which occasionally means typing a new line of text when you realize what would fit better. After you spend a few hours getting everything to look right, you have to turn around and reproof it again.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I've finally gotten my site to look downright professional - clashing social media buttons aside. But I can't help asking myself: if this website was a project, would I feel comfortable turning it into my client?
Time consuming? Of course. But as a gal who still treasures the warm childhood memory of typing in her first DOS commands, HTML coding brings my mind back to the proverbial salad days of my youth.
But it's indefinitely harder to proof a line of code than it is to proof a regular document. You have to see how each line of text fits in the page design. Which occasionally means typing a new line of text when you realize what would fit better. After you spend a few hours getting everything to look right, you have to turn around and reproof it again.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
I've finally gotten my site to look downright professional - clashing social media buttons aside. But I can't help asking myself: if this website was a project, would I feel comfortable turning it into my client?
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