Setting the Words Free

I think by now most of my readers, friends and family know that I would like nothing more than to move to New York. That's where all the actual jobs are that I know I could do (and those that, you know, actually require someone with my type of degree), and that's where I'm convinced my creativity will flourish. It hasn't happened yet, but one day, right?

About three years ago I wrote this essay with all of the thoughts I had about why I wanted to move there and why it is such a non-negotiable for me (there's my self-help vocabulary getting put to good use!). For some reason, I've kept this hidden away with more protection than I have ever kept a piece of writing. Although all of these thoughts are things I would love to shout to the world, this felt like a very vulnerable piece to put out. The picture that keeps coming back in my head is the image of a teacher swiping a note from a student and threatening to read it out loud. Not that something like that ever happened to me... Okay, maybe once. But the teacher would have been wrong. The subject of the note was the boy that my friend liked, not me. Anyway...

So here's the essay in all of its glory. I put it on Biosgraphy first because it seemed like the right type of atmosphere for it. That, and it is a smaller community of writers to test it out first. But now I'm ready to let the world see it. It's not spectacular by any means, but it is how I feel. And yes, it is a bit dated. Example: I do know that the Chelsea Hotel is closed now.

I'm doing my best to maintain my personal relationships with people in spite of the fact that they don't think I can make it--or ever should. Since most of the support for this dream comes from my online friends and complete strangers, it's only fair to provide you all the reasons why I dream the way I do. So there it is.

**The Biosgraphy website is finicky at best, so if you aren't able to see it after a few refreshes, let me know and I'll post it here.

Crunch Time

It's 47 degrees outside and there's just a few patches of snow left on the grass. I only needed a light sweatshirt to go outside. Spring is here. Which only means that I'm itching to move on, but with no realistic plan in place, I'm not quite ready. I'm getting down to the wire with my whole day job situation. I have to get a job this week or I'm going to be playing catch up for years instead of months. So, I have all of three days to find an amazing job or I'll have to start practicing my "May I take your order?" speech. I don't think the situation is that dire yet, but it's getting close. And if I wait too much longer, all the high school kiddies will be taking what's left of the open jobs in this town. I just have to remember that it's only to get the money to move, then I can go get a job where I want and in what industry I want. Learn from me--this is what an English degree gets you, Kids. Plan accordingly.

If I could psychoanalyze myself for a second, I know what the issue is. Everyone around me tells me to remember that taking any position for money right now can be temporary. However, it's kind of hard to believe them when they are the same people who started their temporary jobs and stayed fifteen years. Psychoanalysis done. 

This wouldn't be my situation if everyone would just pay writers more across the board. I've made a decent living from writing in the past--just four years ago I was able to afford a two bedroom apartment, a car payment and I had a cable package with HBO, no problem. That's sooo not the case anymore.

Today's demands on the freelance writer are actually kind of ridiculous. More and more clients are looking to get 90 hours of work for less than minimum wage, plus free revisions when they decide to change their mind about the whole direction of the project last minute. I have refused to take these paltry wages for awhile now, and my bank account is feeling it. The upside is that I don't feel like a starved dog chained to my computer.

I always like to see writers paid what they're worth but haven't spoken out much about it before, aside from my own personal issues with it. But a Freelancer's Union article I read this weekend sparked the fire in me again. Although I must admit in the first line where it says "Yes, I am looking at you, $10/hour Craigslist offering" my first reaction was "Ten bucks an hour? Where can I find that sweet writing gig?" Yeah. I think that about says it all.

No matter how much I dwell over the problems of the day, it still doesn't bring my creativity down. Out of nowhere I wrote a poem today, and I'm kind of in love with it. It needs a lot of tweaks, but that's why I do this. For that sudden burst of energy where if I don't write it down I'm afraid it will slip away forever. Forget fast cars and jumping out of planes--that burst is the adrenaline rush for writers. It is exactly what keeps me going when I want to do nothing but run away from writing.


As of right now, I don't know if I'll be participating in Camp NaNoWriMo in April. It will all depend on the hours of my new job and whether sustainable writing work comes my way again. We'll see how all this life fluctuation turns out. I'm slightly hopeful for a positive outcome.