Tag Archives: Writing

I’m Not Famous! But I’ll Take The Ego Boost.

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Yikes! I didn’t mean to go five days without blogging. I don’t think I’ve done that all year. You’d think I’ve been busy or something!

Well, the truth is, I’ve been busy. Or something.

Not just busy figuring out which beer I might possibly like (edge: India Pale Ale, maybe). I’ve also been wandering through corn mazes (okay, one) and buying used bread machines (again, one) and hosting dinners for friends (two friends, one dinner). I often remark that, for a guy without a job, my days are pretty full. I didn’t even have time for a movie last week (although that may be a good thing). I’ve also developed quite a fondness for parentheses. (Can you tell?).

And I’ve been remiss in talking about my book, even though there’s been a lot of excitement happening there.

My first royalty check.

A few weeks ago, for instance, I received my first royalty check. Talk about a proud moment! Sadly, it wasn’t enough to buy a sports car with – was, in fact, barely over $100 – but that’ll at least get me a nice set of floor mats. It’s a start, in other words. Maybe I can put that car together piece by piece. With the next check I’ll add the fuzzy dice, then a tire…in about thirty years I might have a decent car! Seriously, though – it was very exciting to tear open that envelope and hold the check in my hand. It felt like redemption to me, a reward for all the hard work I poured into my novel. My blood, sweat and tears, with a dollar sign attached. I couldn’t help but think back to the moment I knew I first wanted to be a writer. I’d entered a short story contest sponsored by the local library when I was 13 years old and, to my surprise, won first place for my age group. How gratifying to be holding a check some not-quite-thirty-years later, payment for the words that spewed forth from my imagination. I mean, I’ve been paid for my writing before – freelance stuff and as part of my job, of course – but this was different. For one thing, I wasn’t writing for anybody else except me. For another, No Time For Kings was a labor of love, definitely one of the achievements I am most proud of. I still get goosebumps when I hold a copy in my hand. I stare at the cover and can hardly believe I’m really a published author. A friend told me I should frame the check, but I do have bills to pay, so I promptly cashed it. I did put the money aside for something, though…I’m just not sure what yet.

Maybe more beer.

I’ve also been signing copies of the book for friends. That’s always a surreal moment for me; here are these people I’ve known for years, many of them coworkers, handing me pens and treating me like I’m a celebrity or something. Don’t get me wrong, it feels good, but when the same folks I barked at for leaving a sheet of paper in the copier suddenly want my autograph, it’s a bit funny. My friend Pam wrote on my Facebook wall the other day, You are one of only two famous people I know. Ron Underwood * was at my high school reunion, gave him a hug. Reading that, I had to laugh. I’m not famous! I’m just me!! Ron Underwood worked with Billy Crystal. I worked with…well, Pam, who is an awesome person but has never once hosted the Oscars.

* {a director probably best known for City Slickers, though I had to look this up.}

Signing books is fun, though. Coming up with something clever, witty and personal takes a bit of effort. I’m not saying I’m always successful in this endeavor, but I try. I have a sort-of tagline that I can expand upon depending on my relationship with the person. Sadly though, my handwriting sucks. I mentioned in the ol’ blog a while back that cursive writing has become obsolete, so busting it out again after all these years has been interesting. The aforementioned Pam had to ask me to decipher what, exactly, I wrote in her book after signing it, and even I had to pause and reread it a couple of times.

Most exciting of all, though? Yesterday I attended my first literary event. Every October, the Oregon Convention Center hosts Wordstock, the largest book and literary festival in the Pacific Northwest. It’s a three-day event that features authors, publishers, and other writing-related groups, and promotes writing in the classroom and community. If you’re an avid reader or a writer (aspiring or otherwise), it is the place to go. A month ago, my good friend and business associate Chris, editor-in-chief of Portland Book Review, snagged a last-minute booth at Wordstock. She made me an offer I couldn’t refuse: in exchange for volunteering at the booth for a couple of hours, she would let me bring along copies of my book to sell. Chris is awesome; we have both supported each other over the years. She read my original manuscript for No Time For Kings years ago when we both worked together at Blue Cross Blue Shield and encouraged me to continue writing, while I introduced her to Heidi, a friend who had started up a business venture called Sacramento Book Review in 2008 (which led to Chris launching Portland Book Review this past March). It’s amazing how influential we’ve been on each other’s lives over the years. Standing in the booth yesterday morning, I said to Chris, “Would you ever have believed, eight years ago when we were stuck in a crappy call center job downtown, that we would one day be exhibitors at Wordstock, you pushing your publication and me selling my book?” We are both following our dreams, and that is amazing.

I felt pretty comfortable behind the booth at Wordstock.

The festival was a lot of fun. I loved mingling with fellow authors and publishers, and it was a real joy to talk with people about Portland Book Review. I’m proud of my association with it, and think Chris is doing a wonderful job. She’s put together a great team of people who are getting paid little (if anything) to make the venture a success. Our booth had a ton of traffic, and the positive response was overwhelming. As for my book? By the end of the day I hadn’t sold any copies, and while this was mildly disappointing, it wasn’t surprising considering the huge number of books available for sale at the festival. Nearly every booth was stocked with literature, so the competition was fierce. Even Powell’s was there, for crying out loud! But I talked it up a bit, and hit upon the idea of sticking a bookmark advertising No Time For Kings inside the free copies of PBR we were handing out. By the end of the day, I must have handed out over a hundred. My hope is that will translate to at least a few sales down the road. Plus, copies of my book are still there for the duration of the festival, so there’s always a chance I could sell a couple yet. I had a blast just hanging out there, talking with people and roaming the aisles. I even met Lisa, a fellow blogger and self-published author. At the end of the day, Brad with PBR whisked me away to a conference room and conducted a twenty-minute interview for their Audible Author series, to appear on their website later this month. It’s a tape recorded interview that was lots of fun to do, and made me feel once again like a bit of a success. I’d love to do Wordstock again next year; maybe Chris and I can split the cost of a booth.

I’m hoping by then, I’ll have a second novel to sell.

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Hidden Nuts, Sexy Feet and Unnecessary Apostrophes

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How Do They Locate Their Nuts?

Sipping coffee from my back patio this morning, I watched as a squirrel buried a nut in the damp earth beside a row of arborvitae.

What a cliche, I thought. I actually muttered it out loud, to be honest. And then I wondered, how will he ever know where to find that later? It was a question I pondered for several long minutes. I became fixated on it because it was bothering me so much. Seriously, how will that squirrel ever remember the location of that particular nut? Do they possess some sort of homing instinct, like pigeons or salmon? Or do they just happen upon their buried hoard by pure, dumb luck? I was so perplexed I Googled that very question, and Ask Yahoo! says it’s either through the use of smell, the use of landmarks, or by possessing a really good memory. The article goes on to state that squirrels never find all the nuts they’ve buried, and their undiscovered stashes help new forests to grow and prosper. In a roundabout way, they are ensuring the survival of future generations of their own species. That’s kind of fascinating when you think about it.

I have a love/hate relationship with squirrels, by the way.

I was thrilled when they first moved into the neighborhood, marveling over their furry little gray bodies prancing happily through the grass, but glee soon gave way to resentment when I caught them robbing my feeder of birdseed. I then engaged in a one-man war against these rodents, chasing them away from the bird feeder with angry shouts and flailing arms every time they drew near. Invariably, they’d come back as soon as I went  inside the house, and the whole process would repeat itself. Had I really thought they were cute? Whatever. Squirrels are rats with bushier tails, that’s all.

Wacky Search Terms

I always marvel over the search engine terms people use to find my blog. In the past few days, these have included pacific northwest man action figure (bet he’s able to leap over tall lattes in a single bound!), clark griswold in lederhosen (better than Cousin Eddie in a wife beater), what’s that weird sound when the sun comes out (umm…huh?), and space vampires vs zombie dinosaurs (sounds like a great, cheesy B-movie!). I get hits from lots of people looking for the Smurfs, sexy pictures of Pippa Middleton, and – oddly – the Hot Dog on a Stick uniform. This stands to reason, as I’ve written posts that featured those topics at one time or another. Occasionally it’s just blind luck; I wrote a post about Icarus a year and a half ago, when nobody was reading this blog, and a few months later a Kid Icarus video game was released. Hence, “Icarus” remains my most popular search term, with a whopping 2,890 views.

There you go, fetishists: Piper's feet! Actually, they are pretty cute... (Courtesy of celebritybarefeet.net)

Interestingly, 4 people today searched for Piper Perabo feet. Why the sudden interest in the Coyote Ugly actress’s feet, I wonder? Have the fetishists of the world decided that her feet are particularly alluring? Or was this just one infatuated guy really hoping for a glimpse of her toes? As a guy who enjoys a sexy pair of feet as much as the next person, curiosity got the better of me, and in a weirdly ironic vicious circle found myself Googling Piper Perabo feet. Turns out there are websites devoted entirely to celebrity’s feet, and Piper’s are especially popular, a fact that would have escaped me had I never been recruited to write about guilty pleasures. You learn something new every day.

I suppose now I’ll get a lot of hits from people looking for “celebrity’s nuts” since I’ve mentioned both in this post.

My Own Worst Critic

With my book now officially for sale, this has been an exciting week for me! I have a bunch of friends who have bought copies already and are currently reading it. I wait with bated breath for their feedback. The early reports are promising, at least. I swear, I feel like a candidate on election night, watching as the results begin to filter in. It’s pretty nerve-wracking, actually. I am my own worst critic, and forever second-guessing myself.

I finished reading my copy of the novel yesterday. I’m very pleased with the story in general, and think it’s fast-paced and well-written, with a little something for everybody. I wouldn’t change a thing about it. However, there are a few minor errors here and there. An apostrophe or three that don’t belong. A missing page break between two separate action sequences that somehow disappeared during formatting. Plus, gosh, I sure do love commas. Like I said, nothing major, but the perfectionist in me bristles. I could correct these errors – already have in my original document – but any changes made now cost money. It’s amazing how many times I went through my manuscript and had others read it – and still managed not to catch a couple of things. I keep telling myself, most books I read contain an error or two, and those have undergone professional editing. It just proves that nobody is perfect, and I need to chill out about the whole thing.

It’s been fun looking up my book on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and other places – even Powell’s! And interesting that not all prices are the same (something I have no control over). Amazon is especially cool; they really cater to authors, offering a bunch of services for free, like an Author Page where you can talk about your book, link to your blog and Twitter feed, etc. And while I’ve always considered myself anti-Kindle, I cannot deny it’s a popular format and there are some cool things you can do with your book, like adding additional content – say, more information about the settings and locations; in-depth character backgrounds; or even a discussion of the themes and symbolism in your work.

I may become a convert yet.

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You’re So Vain, You Probably Think Self-Publishing’s About You

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Sunday was quite amazing. After all, it isn’t every day that your book is released.

It started out with a text from Rusty in the morning. You’re the number 1 “No Time For Kings” on Google search now. Yes! This pleased me to no end. You see, there’s another book out there with my same title. Also self-published, back in 2004. I discovered this a couple of years ago, halfway through the writing process. I debated changing the name…for about thirty seconds or so, but decided my title fit in perfectly with the story and I didn’t want to give it up. Besides, there is no rule against this – in fact, many books share the same title. Did you know there are at least four novels named Twilight, for instance? And three of them were not written by Stephenie Meyer. Think that’s bad? There are no fewer than 22 books called Night Shift! Obviously Stephen King’s is the most popular. So, the fact that there was another NTFK out there didn’t bother me in the least. I simply said, “Well, I’ll have to knock that book from its top perch on Google, and I will do it…mark my words.” So we’d been checking Google periodically. A few days ago, the other book was still number one. Yesterday, it was knocked down to 3rd place when I looked. And that is when I discovered my book had officially been released for sale.

I didn’t know what sort of fanfare – if any – would accompany the release, so when I saw it posted on Booklocker’s website, I was pleasantly surprised. Barnes & Noble and Amazon quickly followed suit. Suddenly, there my book was, available for sale online! And thus began the next step in this grand adventure: promoting my novel.

A few days ago, I read an interesting post from Lisa (Woman Wielding Words) called Advertising Self. Timely, because she talked about the art of self-promotion, and how uncomfortable it makes her. That’s something I can relate to. I actually have a Bachelor of Arts degree in Advertising, but by the time I reached my senior year of college, I knew in my heart advertising was not the career for me – I felt the business was too cutthroat, and dependent upon false claims. I didn’t feel comfortable manipulating people out of their hard-earned money, but by then I’d completed the majority of my mandatory coursework and wasn’t about to change majors and sign on for another couple of years of college, so I took the piece of paper and hoped a degree alone would be sufficient to help me move ahead in my career. The verdict’s still out on whether or not that was the right move, but simply having a degree has opened doors for me, so I suppose it was worth it.

Anyway. I’ve also had opportunities to work in sales, and always turned those down, for similar reasons. I’m just not comfortable selling things! So it’s ironic that I’ve chosen to pursue a profession where if you don’t sell yourself, you’ll never succeed. Truth is, that’s borderline terrifying. But there’s one major difference here: I’m selling a product I believe in very strongly – and that makes all the difference in the world.

Courtesy of askdavetaylor.com.

Some say self-publishing is for the vain. Trust me when I tell you, I am not like that at all. I consider myself to be quite humble, actually. I’m not comfortable in the spotlight. But I believe in No Time For Kings so strongly, I had to see it through to print. It doesn’t matter that a hundred different literary agents fed me the same “sorry, this project is not for us” line: that in no way means my novel isn’t worthy. Not a single one of them read it, and I understand that’s the nature of the business these days, so forget about them. I forged ahead on my own because I think the story is exciting, fast-paced, timely, and well-written. And I believe, if you buy the book, you will agree. It’s got action, adventure, intrigue, drama and passion. Explosions for the guys, a love story for the girls. I don’t expect to become rich or famous from the novel…I just want to entertain people and, if I’m lucky, maybe have a few more doors open up for me. Do you know why I can assure you I didn’t self-publish a book just to see my name in print? Because I’ve got three other manuscripts tucked away, gathering dust, and they will never see the light of day. They simply aren’t good enough, and no amount of massaging and editing will change that. Sure, I could have put them out, too. But what good is achieving immortality if your work sucks? I’d rather not be remembered if that was the case!

No Time For Kings is worthy. I believe that with my whole heart.

And so, I begin the arduous process of self-promotion. Like it or not, it’s a necessary part of the job. Some might say the fun part. They’re doubtless Type A personalities, and good for them! I’ll just do the best I can. I have a master plan that started with a Facebook page and will spread to book reviews, press releases, booths at festivals, social networking, etc. There are many different ways to promote a book, and I want to try them all – even some that have never been thought of before. This is all pretty exciting (okay, maybe it is a little fun!) but also scary, because now I have to see if people will actually buy my book, and if they do, whether they’ll like it.

With that in mind, here are some links to purchase my novel. I am willing to sign copies for anybody interested; we’ll just have to work out the logistics, but I’ve got some ideas I’m working on. The book is available in paperback on all three sites. There’s also an e-book version available at Booklocker, and in a bow to technology (if you can’t fight progress, you might as well embrace it!), a Kindle version for sale through Amazon. I’ll also be posting all this information to my Buy My Book page.

Buy on Booklocker.
Buy on Amazon (paperback).
Buy on Amazon (Kindle).
Buy on Barnes & Noble.

Thank you for your support – and let the fun begin!

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You Want Me To Put That Arugula WHERE?!

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Shut Up And Let Her Cook

I’ve been watching a lot of cooking shows lately. I mean, I’ve always been into them - but now, even more so. I go through phases with what I watch; for a while it was nothing but true crime shows. Then old sitcoms. Now, if a show’s got the word “chef” in it, you can pretty much guarantee I’m watching it. Top Chef, Master Chef, Extreme Chef…and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Let’s not forget Chopped and Hell’s Kitchen and Diners Drive-Ins and Dives. I am fascinated watching a group of competitors open a mystery box to reveal ingredients they must use to create a dish. Some of these shows really stretch a chef’s creativity by including oddball ingredients like blueberry jelly beans and duck testicles and cheese crackers. I get a kick seeing what the contestants will come up with, and I think the reason for that is simple:

What on earth can you come up with using these ingredients that's not only edible, but actually tastes good?! (Courtesy of sidereel.com).

I’m a foodie.

Which is really just a fancy term for “culinary snob.” Whatever – I can admit it. If it’s processed, frozen or comes in a box, I typically wrinkle my nose in disgust. I’m a fan of Richard Blais on Facebook.  Plus, I’m not afraid to pay $6.00 for eggs. I am forever trying new recipes, and the fancier, the better. Last night for dinner, I had my parents over, and I wanted to dazzle them with my cooking prowess, so I whipped up a sage and black pepper crusted pork tenderloin served with green chile and garlic grits cakes, an apple slaw, and portobello mushrooms brushed with basil oil. It was all quite good – but man, a lot of work! And for the record, I don’t really think I’m special because I can put together a meal like that – cooking doesn’t require much more than the ability to follow directions. I’d be more impressed if I create recipe ideas from scratch, like the contestants on those cooking shows do. When confronted with a basket full of hot dogs, butterscotch candy, carrots and chia seeds, they do not wither under the pressure. Instead, they create dishes that are original, daring, and usually – according to the judges – pretty good. Until I can do that, I’m very blase over the whole thing.

Even when I don’t have the kids and am not having company over – when it’s just me – I tend to go overboard with my meal creations. The stereotypical bachelor lives on Top Ramen and bologna sandwiches. Not me, though I wish that were the case sometimes. It would be a lot less work. Occasionally, I’ll grow bored with cooking or feel too tired to whip up something gourmet, and will resort to the ol’ guilty pleasure standby: a tuna fish sandwich. And if there are Cheez-Its on hand, even better.

I have to admit it, I get especially excited when somebody else is doing the cooking. My parents usually have me over once a week, and those are good days because I don’t have to lift a finger. I do sometimes find myself telling my mom to soak her chicken in buttermilk first, or use smoked paprika to bring out the flavors in such-and-such a dish, and I’ve got to knock that off. She’s been cooking since before I was born, after all. We foodies can be an annoying lot, I’ll be the first to testify to that. I’m making a vow from now on to just shut up and let her cook.

Cover Me

The highlight of this past weekend? On Sunday, I received an e-mail from Todd, the graphics designer with Booklocker tasked with creating the cover for my novel. For two weeks I’ve been anxiously awaiting his response, dying to see if the cover he came up with would do my story justice. I had communicated my ideas to him early in the process, suggesting things like incorporating red to signify bloodshed and green for the environment, while keeping the tone of the cover dark. I mentioned some possible images that would fit the story – a whaling trawler, black helicopters, the planet earth. All I can say is, Todd paid attention. When I opened the attachment and got a first look at my cover, I gasped out loud. He did a fantastic job with it, turning out something I find not just visually appealing, but stunning. Much better than I’d hoped for.

No Time For Kings

I sat there and stared at the cover for a full hour. I am not even exaggerating! I can’t begin to tell you how excited I was to see it…one of my friends remarked, Holy Smokes!! It looks so “REAL”!! And I get that, I do. One of the most important things a book needs – self-published or not – is a good cover, one that will grab your interest, and I think this one does exactly that.

Plus…there’s my name. In print. With a barcode and an ISBN # on the back. This is real…and it feels amazing! The culmination of so many years of hard work. Best of all, I’ve got an amazing and supportive group of friends who are contributing their time, money and talent to give me a fighting chance at success. Heidi, my friend who puts out Sacramento Book Review and its sister publication, has promised me not only a free review of my book – something that is crucial for exposure and sales – but also a half-page ad that she will personally design. Another friend knows somebody who owns a bookstore in the area and says she can get my book on the shelf there. This outpouring of support has me stoked, and while I have no illusions of becoming either rich or famous off this book, at least I am content in the knowledge that I have some big advantages other new authors don’t, and am grateful as can be for that.

I suppose if I don’t make it as a bestselling author, I can always train to be a chef.

Six Weeks To Immortality

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Eggceptional…But Worth The Price? 

One of the comments on my last post had to do with the eggs I purchased from the farmer’s market on Saturday. The ones that cost me $6.00 for a dozen. This blogger asked if they were really worth the price, which was funny, because not more than an hour earlier my mom was wondering the same thing (though she took things a step further and berated me for paying so much for eggs, when she just bought them for $1.19 at WinCo…I know, I know, you can find them a hell of a lot cheaper, but I was curious and always wanted to try farm fresh eggs and, by the way, mothers never stop mothering, even when their children are slightly north of 40, do they?).

First off, I have to say, the eggs were delicious. I cooked them over-medium and served them with bacon and toast. I thought the yolks were big and creamy and a beautiful golden color. When I told my dad they were the best eggs I’d ever had, he wondered if I wasn’t just swayed by the perceived quality of the eggs, not to mention the high price I had paid, and suggested a blind taste test might be in order. I’ll admit that he could be right, and that’s not a bad idea. I think we’ll try that one day soon.

Are they worth $6.00, though? It’s hard to believe a dozen eggs would ever be worth six bucks, to be honest. But then I started thinking about economies of scale and how that translates to fifty cents apiece; the breakfast I had yesterday probably cost me $4.00 but would have run double that in a restaurant, and I have to wonder. Maybe it isn’t such a bad price after all, when you look at the big picture.

I’d have a more convincing argument if I weren’t unemployed, of course.

Dreams Do Come True. Even if You Have to Pay for Them. 

When I began this blog, my goal was to chronicle my journey from cubicle-dwelling aspiring novelist to published author. Along the way, some things changed – like, well, the cubicle disappeared, for instance – and I branched out to talk about a wide variety of topics. I like it that way; being able to write about whatever I feel like is liberating. My overall dream, of course, never changed. I always said I’d one day become a published author, or die trying.

A dozen years ago, when I decided to take a serious stab at writing novels, I balked at the notion of self-publishing. It didn’t feel legitimate, I thought, and screamed “vanity project!” more than anything else. I wanted to get published the real way, and went about my due diligence through traditional channels, crafting query letters and sending them off to dozens of literary agents. For every request to see material I had to wade through fifteen or twenty rejections. It’s frustrating to not have anybody even want to read a chapter or two of your work, but that’s the nature of the business. The marketplace is full of agents and publishers who deal with hundreds of queries, proposals and unsolicited manuscripts a week. Breaking through is next to impossible.

Over the past few years, however, the industry has changed. Even many established authors are self-publishing their books and bypassing the traditional publishing houses – it’s the best way to maintain creative control over their visions, I suppose. Self-publishing doesn’t carry the same stigma it did even five years ago, and there are success stories out there, people who have sold a ton of books on their own and then been picked up by a big-name publishing house. Granted, this is the exception to the rule, but it can - and does – happen. Social networking provides authors with so many unique and far-reaching marketing channels that, with a lot of hard work, you can really get your book out there…and hopefully noticed.

Plus, with the rise of POD (Print On Demand) publishers, the expense has gone down drastically. You no longer have to buy a hundred copies of your book and try to sell them; the publishing company will, instead, print each book on demand, as it is ordered. This keeps everybody’s costs down, and makes the whole process affordable.

So, when I secured funds for my life-changing road trip last month, I also put enough aside to self-publish my book. I have been waiting for years to have my book published, and this would be the culmination of all of my hard work and determined effort. It would be a dream come true! Albeit, a dream I was paying to have come true, but at this point – who cares about the how’s.

I’m going to be a published author!

Six Weeks To Immortality

The first step was finding the right company. There are a lot of big names out there – Lulu, Xlibris, AuthorHouse, iUniverse and Amazon’s CreateSpace, to name a few – but I chose a smaller outfit called Booklocker. Why? Not only do they offer competitive pricing and receive high satisfaction ratings, but they have standards: contrary to the practices of many companies, they look for quality books with potential, and don’t publish just anybody’s. They have to approve your manuscript first. They are essentially a mom ‘n pop outfit (something that appeals to my anti-corporate sensibilities) but offer all the same perks as the other guys: 35% royalty on book sales, your own ISBN (International Standard Book Number) and barcode, distribution through Amazon and Ingram, e-book options, cover design services, etc. Last week, I uploaded my manuscript, and nervously awaited their response. I’m so used to rejection, I think I expected it. Finally, they replied.

While I don’t have time to read entire manuscripts, we do have a specific formula for reviewing them. Basically, if we start reading and want to keep reading, that’s great. We also look for errors and try to determine if we feel there is a market for the book.

Your book has been accepted for publication by Booklocker.
Give yourself a pat on the back. We reject the vast majority of incoming proposals. (You would not BELIEVE some of the stuff we see…and, sadly, our competitors are putting this low-quality material on the market).

Welcome to the family! We’re very happy to have you!!

I was ecstatic upon reading that! I have waited so long for this to happen that, even though I’m paying for it, it still feels like a WIN!

The past few days have been an exciting blur. I’m already marketing my novel – I created a Facebook fan page for No Time For Kings. Feel free to click here and “like” it – I’m posting daily updates on the progress of my novel and sharing fun things like character backgrounds, cover proposals, etc. My friends have spread the word to their friends, and I’m conversing with people I don’t even know, trying to build “buzz.” I’ve always been pretty good at this marketing stuff, and I’m off to a solid start!

I also formatted my novel, going through it once more for any last-minute changes; signed the contract; uploaded the files; created a dedication and an “About The Author” blurb; and, most exciting of all, am working one-on-one with a graphics designer to come up with an original cover. I talked with him today about the ideas I have – dark and brooding, incorporating the environmental/terrorist themes, suggested color schemes, even a few possible images. I can’t wait to see what Todd comes up with! I’ll own the cover artwork when it’s complete, as I’m “buying” it as part of the contract. Oh, and I came up with a tagline that I like, too. Saving The Earth is Bloody Business. It fits.

My friends are being amazingly supportive, and my kids have jumped on board, too. Rusty even designed a promotional poster using a photo of Mount Rushmore I took just a few weeks ago. It’s related to a pivotal scene in the book, and I think it turned out fantastic. Audrey, meanwhile, has decided she’d like to become a writer too, and is working on a book of her own. I’m proud of them both.

This is all very exciting, and I plan to update progress here on my blog, of course. In just six short weeks, my book will be available for sale. I can hardly believe it!

Not the cover (though it would certainly work)! Rusty designed this promotional poster based on an image I took a few weeks ago. It's been doctored a bit - I promise I didn't destroy any national monuments while on my trip.

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Flutter By, Butterfly

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Earlier this week, I had a job interview.

I didn’t write about it before, because I am leery of jinxing myself. I wrote all about Groupon and that fell through, and then dished about my interview with my ex’s company. I prefer to keep these things on the down low now, just on the off chance that it is possible to control the universe through my words. Kind of like a Butterfly Effect, but instead of an insect causing chaos it’s a blog…I guess you’d call it a Bloggingfly Effect? But a couple of days have passed, and whatever is going to happen will happen. I would like to at least mention it because the blog is a reflection of my life, and when I’m old and decrepit I’d like to be able to flip through the pages of this virtual journal and remember what was going on way back when.

They say a butterfly flapping its wings can lead to a hurricane. Similarly, a blogger flapping his gums can lead to a lost opportunity. (Courtesy of duhokwriters.com)

The interview took place downtown, and as soon as I walked into the building, I was blown away. It’s a rather nondescript looking two-story white office building on the outside, but inside, it’s all artsy and funky. Lots of glass and wood, framed paintings, and natural light. There are offices along the walls, a reception desk in the middle, and an upstairs loft with a few more offices, including the President and CEO (whom I interviewed with). It’s all very cool and urban and hip. Cubicles? They don’t need no stinkin’ cubicles! So right off the bat, it earned brownie points with me.

As for the interview itself, I think it went very well. The P/CEO told me she’d looked over my online portfolio and was impressed with my work. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: those three days spent in November putting together the site were the best use of my time since I’ve been unemployed. Any writer, published or not, should have a portfolio to display his or her clips – it really does open doors. We chatted about my duties at my last job, freelance writing, and this position. While there are one or two qualifications missing from my work history, I’m hoping that they are minor ones. I asked her what skills her ideal candidate possesses, and she said – in order – writing and creativity. Definitely my strengths, and to prove the point, I came up with a marketing idea for her on the fly – a way to promote our local wineries – that she liked a lot. I wanted to show her I was an idea man, and I think that was a good move on my part. As the interview was wrapping up, I thanked her, shook her hand, and told her that I want the job. I read someplace that surprisingly few candidates ever come right out and say that during an interview, and I wanted to emphasize how much I really do want it. (I do…it would be perfect). But, of course, I’m sure the other candidates in the running all have their strengths and talents, as well. I am confident that I gave it my all, and certainly didn’t give her any reason not to hire me, as I have in the past (more on that in a second). She asked me for references as we were parting, and I forwarded those to her promptly, once I got home. That’s always a good sign. Doesn’t mean I’m a shoo-in, but if she wasn’t interested in me as a serious candidate, she wouldn’t ask. So now I’ll just wait with bated breath and see if anything comes of this.

The truth is, I’m in a tight spot. Money (or lack of) has become a real issue. On top of that, my initial unemployment claim is about to run out – next week, I believe. I know there are extensions available but that’ll probably entail more paperwork and who knows what else. I want to be a freelance writer, more than anything else (and the P/CEO asked me why I don’t continue pursuing that since it’s such an ideal lifestyle), but lack of a steady gig and no benefits are making it tough to stay the course. I’m considering some desperate options like withdrawing funds from my 401K that are last resort measures, but what choice do I have? I’ve got bills to pay and not enough $ to pay them. You know things are bad when my daydreams and fantasies all involve currency. Seriously, I’ve been thinking about money a lot lately. Drooling over it when I see it. How novel the idea of a paycheck feels to me now! I could actually pay my bills, on time, and maybe even have a little bit left over. That’s such a foreign concept to me now. It sounds wonderful. Funny, the things we take for granted in life.

Don’t it always seem to go/That you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone. 

Truer words were never spoken.

Twice upon a time, I completely blew any chance of landing a job before I’d even walked out the door. The first time, MapQuest led me astray. The company was located in a town I was unfamiliar with, and the directions I’d gotten online showed the building on the complete opposite side of the freeway from where it really was. I drove all over town looking for the place, and had to call and tell them I was lost. I finally found the place and got there fifteen minutes late for my scheduled interview. They then made me sit in the lobby another fifteen minutes before seeing me. That was a big group interview, and no amount of profuse apologizing on my part could soothe their bad tempers. There’s no worse feeling than knowing something is a lost cause but being forced to soldier on through it anyway.

The second time, I’d actually done pretty well in the interview. She and I clicked, and things seemed to be moving in a positive direction. She had told me that the company was growing, and they’d soon be transferring a bunch of jobs to their new Connecticut location. As she was walking me to the door, past the employees in her department, she asked if I had any additional questions. “Yes,” I replied. “When are you moving the accounting operation back east?” Her face darkened immediately, and she said in a fierce whisper, “My staff hasn’t been told about that yet!!” as heads swiveled in our direction from cubicleland.

Ooooooooooops……….

Which I think was very unfair. She never informed me that the information was confidential or that her employees hadn’t been notified yet. Why would she drop such a big secret on an unsuspecting stranger? I’m sorry if I unwittingly informed a bunch of people they were about to get canned! Sheesh. It was an honest mistake. I apologized like mad, but again, knew I’d dug a hole too deep to escape from. My last-minute, completely innocent question cost me another good job.

So, the fact that I walked out of Wednesday’s interview (which I had arrived a few minutes early for) without putting my foot in my mouth was definitely a positive step. I may not end up with the job, but if I don’t, it won’t be because of anything I said.

This time.

Feeling Sorry For Clouds

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I was taking a walk after dinner last night. It was about an hour before sunset and the westering sun was low on the horizon but still shining brightly. A few clouds were drifting lazily by. They weren’t the puffy white cumulus variety, but rather stretched out and gray: shapeless, lacking form and definition. They weren’t associated with any approaching or departing storms, so they were most likely going to just fizzle out and dissipate somewhere to the east with nary so much as a sprinkle to show for their very existence. And I thought to myself, I feel sorry for those clouds. Is that a weird thing to admit?

These poor guys will never amount to anything. (Courtesy of weatherreport.com).

I know clouds don’t have feelings, but I couldn’t help thinking that the ones dotting the sky last night just weren’t living up to their potential, and it saddened me. If I were a cloud, I’d want to be a rainmaker, you know? I’d want to make a grand entrance, dark and stormy, and have people notice me. Unleash a few bolts of lightning, a couple of claps of thunder. Loud ones, so people would jump. I’d want to feel like I had purpose. I would love to be the cloud that dumped the first rain on a parched area in weeks: an ender of droughts, an irrigator of fields. I’d want to fill up a thirsty man’s canteen or douse an out-of-control wildfire. Even if I couldn’t precipitate, at the very least, I’d like to spark a child’s imagination. I’d want some kid somewhere far below lying on his back looking up at me and seeing a tiger or a dragon or a stick of cotton candy from the county fair. I would want to be something, anything, other than those poor clouds I saw last night, the ones who will never amount to anything.

If you’re going to be a cloud, be a cloud. Know what I mean?

Now, it’s true that I’d had a couple of rum and Cokes earlier, around dinnertime, but I swear I was lucid. Perhaps my imagination was in high gear because, earlier in the day, I’d participated in a short story writing contest. There’s a website, Writer’s Weekly, that caters to freelancers and is affiliated with Booklocker, a POD self-publishing company. Four times a year they sponsor a 24-hour short story contest – the entry fee is $5, it’s limited to 500 participants, and the top three prizes are $500, $300, and $200. Plus, there are loads of “door prizes” for honorable mentions and random entries. It’s an intriguing concept: at a predetermined time (10 AM PDT Saturday, in this case) an e-mail appears in your in-box with the first paragraph of a story, and you’ve got 24 hours to finish it. And by short story, I mean short story – it couldn’t exceed 900 words. For some reason I find novels easier to write than short stories, but they are something I want to work on improving, because it’s far easier to get a short story published in an anthology or magazine than it is to sell a novel. I had fun with the contest last year, and am pleased with what I came up with yesterday. In six short weeks, they’ll announce the winners. Fingers crossed!

I am also finally ready to begin work on a new novel. I finished No Time For Kings in October of 2009 and have spent a year and a half editing and polishing it and trying to find an agent or publisher interested in it. I’ve had a few bites but haven’t landed anybody yet, and am seriously looking at self-publishing my book now (possibly using Booklocker). There used to be a stigma associated with self-publishing (and I’ll admit, I was against it myself), but times have changed and the “traditional” publishing industry is nothing like it was even ten years ago. For a little over $500 I can get my book published, and then start marketing and selling it. That will free me up to start writing again – something I sorely miss. I have a great idea for a new character-driven novel that would take place in Seattle and Portland in 1991 and involve disaffected youth clinging to their ideals while the grunge scene+Microsoft+Starbucks  is exploding all around them, changing the Emerald City from a blue-collar town barely on the radar to a hip and trendy destination. I’m excited to begin writing again, and hope to start very soon.

Speaking of writing, thanks to all who voted in my last poll. I asked which topics you’re most interested in reading about, and the winner – with 44% – is “other.” LOL. “Current events with a twist” and “more personal themes” also received some interest, so I’ll do my best to come up with more of those types of posts.

One of the “other” requests asked for me to write about complisults again. I mentioned them briefly in a previous entry, but would love to touch on them in more depth now. Complisults are, in essence, backhanded compliments – or more directly, insults disguised as compliments. I first heard the term used on NBC’s Community and immediately latched onto it. Here are a few examples of complisults:

  • “Great haircut! It really brings out your gray.”
  • “You look thinner than usual today!”
  • “Love the Hawaiian shirt. It draws attention away from those sandals you’re wearing.”
  • “You drive the coolest minivan in the neighborhood!”

Mastering the complisult is an art form. The complisulter must deliver it smoothly and in such a way that the complisultee will confusedly believe he or she has been complimented for at least a few minutes or, ideally, several hours. They may have a nagging feeling that something wasn’t “quite right” with your words and then, at some point, they’ll have that “a-ha!” moment usually followed by a “hey, wait a minute…” It’s great fun, and I urge you to try it. Just be sure the person you are complisulting can take a joke (or is smaller than you and, therefore, not likely to be able to cause much bodily harm).

Happy complisulting!

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“Unto Death?!” Well, this is going to be an interesting year…

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And now, the number 42 is not only the Answer to the Ultimate Question of Life, the Universe, and Everything (according to Douglas Adams, anyway), but also my new age. I can’t say I’m too fond of it: turning 40 was hard enough, and each additional year just feels like adding insult to injury. Plus, in the Japanese culture, 42 is considered an unlucky number because when you pronounce the numerals separately, “shi ni” (four two) sounds very much like the phrase “unto death.” Boy, isn’t that cheery!?

We’ve all got to contend with birthdays though, and there is no escaping the fact that yesterday was mine. At least I don’t look my age (and heaven knows I don’t act it!). This runs in the family – neither of my parents look like they’re in their mid-60s, either. It’s as if we were all blessed with a gene that makes us look a good 5-10 years younger. If I could figure out how to replicate it and sell it, I’d be a rich man. Forget about that Botox crap.

"Shi ni." This spells doom for me! (Courtesy of en.wikipedia.org)

As far as birthdays go, this one neither astounded nor disappointed. I had the kids, so that meant the usual multiple runs to and from school, compounded by the fact that Wednesdays are early release days for Audrey. I got a long-overdue oil change on my car. Took a break from any job-seeking or writing activities. Went out for a celebratory dinner at the Olive Garden with the kids. Didn’t have a birthday cake, but was too full for one, anyway. While it certainly didn’t live up to the best birthday ever – one that involved German chocolate cake, a skirt with nothing on underneath, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, and peanut shells (how I’d love to elaborate, but I’m ever mindful of the fact that I have relatives reading and there are some indecencies best left under wraps…just know that I was not the one wearing the skirt) – it was definitely a far cry from my worst birthday ever (which occurred one year prior to the best and was punctuated by a figurative stab to the heart). I guess you could say 42 just was.

By the way, the Pork Milanese I ordered from the O.G. was literally the best pork Milanese I’ve ever eaten.

Tonight’s dinner is going to pale in comparison. Once a week when the kids are here I declare it “sandwich night,” which is nothing more than an excuse to allow me to take a break from cooking for one evening. We all just make our own sandwiches, usually accompanied by Top Ramen or Campbell’s soup. I can’t say I ever look forward to sandwich night – other than the not-having-to-cook part – but for some reason, Rusty thinks it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread (of course, technically it is sliced bread). He gets super excited whenever I announce it’s sandwich night, and usually pumps his fist in the air and exclaims, “yessss!” Which inevitably makes me wonder why I go to the trouble of fixing homemade, hearty, delicious meals the rest of the week when he’s perfectly fine with PB&J and ramen noodles. “I could eat this every night,” he says, as if to drive the point home.

Teenagers are weird. But whatever…as long as I get a break from kitchen duty one night.

I have a friend I met here who was questioning whether she should continue blogging or not, and a lot of the comments she received seconded the notion that maybe blogging is too time-consuming, isn’t “real” writing, takes away from other pursuits, turns us into attention-seeking stats monkeys, etc. I was a little surprised by how many sort of questioned the value of this whole pursuit, but I guess it all depends on what you’re hoping to get out of the experience. For me, I blog because I have to. Writing is as essential to me as breathing, and it’s got to be more than penning articles…I need a creative outlet. The idea that anybody will actually pay attention to my words is almost secondary to me. For the first nine months I blogged here, I had almost no readers, and I suppose I could have continued that way indefinitely, but I made a concerted effort to grow my blog, mostly because I consider it a very important piece in my Master Plan. I am essentially building a brand in the hope that one day I’ll be a published author.

That is why I ditched the pseudonym and am now using my real name throughout the blogosphere. For the longest time I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this, but then I read a post by another blogging buddy, Jess Witkins, that talked about utilizing social media to achieve your goals, and part of that was devoted to the idea that, as a writer, your name is your brand. This made sense to me. On the one hand, I would like to protect certain elements of my privacy – the kids’ real names, for instance – but on the other, establishing yourself as a brand can only help when it comes time to getting published. Besides, all anybody had to do was click on a link or two on this blog and they’d uncover my true identity. I kind of felt like Superman “disguised” as Clark Kent. How can nobody figure out who he really is? The disguise takes pretty much no effort to uncover! 

I’m not saying this approach will work for everybody, but for me, it’s perfect. And also explains my sudden, renewed interest in Twitter. We’ll see how that goes.

Just for fun, and to make this whole experience a little more interactive, I’m going to throw a poll out there and ask you what topics you’d like me to write about more often.

Alas, there is no “German chocolate cake, skirt without anything underneath, What’s Eating Gilbert Grape, peanut shells” option. Nice try, though…

Vince Vaughn’s A Dork & I’m Impatient

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Ever since I wrote that writers write and starting writing again, everything has been going write! Err…right. (Even I’m confused by that sentence). But it’s true! My luck definitely seems to be changing.

About a month ago, I got an e-mail from my former employer. It was simple and intriguing.

Hey, Mark – we have some writing we’d like for you to do. Are you available?

One of my favorite movies is Swingers. Not only did it introduce some hip new slang like “money” (e.g. Baby, you are so money and you don’t even know it), but it’s just plain hilarious and holds up to repeated viewings. There’s a scene in the film where the characters are discussing how long a guy should wait to call a girl he is interested in after receiving her number.

 

Mike: So how long do I wait to call?
Trent: A day.
Mike: Tomorrow.
Sue: Tomorrow, then a day.
Trent: Yeah.
Mike: So two days?
Trent: Yeah, I guess you could call it that, two days.
Sue: Definitely, two days is like industry standard.
Trent: You know I used to wait two days to call anybody, but now it’s like everyone in town waits two days. So I think three days is kind of money. What do you think?
Sue: Yeah, but two’s enough not to look anxious.
Trent: But I think three days is kind of money. You know because you…
Mike: Yeah, but you know what, maybe I’ll wait 3 weeks. How’s that? And tell her I was cleaning out my wallet and I just happened to run into her number.
Charles: Then ask her where you met her.
Mike: Well how long are you guys gonna wait to call your babies?
Trent, Sue: Six days.

 

For some reason, this debate was raging through my head after receiving the e-mail. Suddenly I was Jon Favreau, and I had Vince Vaughn sitting on my shoulder, whispering bad advice in my ear.

You don’t want to appear too anxious, buddy. That’s not money. Nonchalance is key. Wait a little while. Make it look like you’re engrossed in so many other writing projects you didn’t notice the e-mail until, whoops, just this second and had to force yourself to pull away from your work for a minute to respond.

The only problem with that scenario is, Vince Vaughn’s a dork in that movie and I’m impatient. So after holding out for a whopping two hours, I replied to the e-mail. Tried to strike a casual tone and responded in the affirmative. A day went by without a response, and then two. Wait a second…were they playing Swingers games with me, I wondered?! Not cool, man. So after another few days without feedback, I took the next step and called them up. I got a voicemail and proceeded to leave a message. And that is when I had another Swingers moment.

Do NOT listen to the guy with the martini. His advice is not money, baby. (Courtesy of waltinpa.com)

There’s a key scene where Mike finally calls the girl, leaves a message on her answering machine, gets cut off, calls back to repeat the information, gets cut off again, calls back again, and again, and again, leaving an increasingly desperate series of messages and ends up sounding like a fool.

Well, somehow in the course of my phone call I thought I heard my contact pick up, so I cut myself off midstream and started talking to him…only it turned out to be a poor connection and I was hearing my own voice echoing over the line, so then I had to hang up and call back and blame some fake “phone trouble” and ended up sounding like a fool.

God, I hate it when life imitates art.

I still didn’t hear anything back from the company, so I figured the project had fallen through or I’d embarrassed myself right out of contention. Either way, I shrugged my shoulders and moved on. Then I wrote that post about writing, and the next day they contacted me. Tell me, is that just a coincidence?!

OK, I’m sure it is. But still…it’s a happy one.

So, we set up a meeting yesterday. I got myself all spiffy-looking (translation: slacks instead of sweats, button-up shirt rather than a rock ‘n roll tee). I even wore socks that weren’t white and slipped on a pair of dress shoes! For me, this is huge – I practically invented the word casual. One of the freelancing books I read said to treat each appointment almost like a job interview, even if you know the client; projecting a professional image will instill in them a confidence that you take yourself seriously as a writer and will deliver quality work. I arrived promptly, strolled through the lobby door dressed to the nines with portfolio in hand…and pranked the hell out of the receptionist, who is new and therefore does not know me from Adam.

“Ron Johnson, Washington state health inspector,” I said, flipping open my wallet to make it look like I was flashing a badge at her. “I’m here to check out the coffee machine. Got a report of an e. coli breakout last week that sickened a bunch of your employees.”

“Oh, wow,” she said, looking uncomfortable as she tried to figure out whether she was going to die who to call. “I guess this happens a lot in your line of work?”

“All the time,” I answered with a straight face.

At that point another gentleman sitting in the lobby said “I guess I won’t ask for a cup of coffee, then” and I had to let everybody off the hook.

I know, I know. So much for professionalism. In my defense, April Fool’s Day came and went this year and I failed to pull a prank then, so I was itching to make up for lost opportunities.

Anyway, the meeting went well. Very well. I walked away from it with not one, but two projects. The first involves providing copy for a 12-page corporate brochure, exactly the type of work that I’ve been looking for and that will make a great addition to my portfolio. The second is a batch of industry-specific articles – we’re talking 50-75 of them. Brief, two- or three-paragraph informational pieces. The nice thing is, that project will keep me busy for awhile and provide me with some steady work. And they hinted at more things to come in the future. Score!

I guess having a positive attitude even while my position was being eliminated out from under me paid off. I never burned any bridges or badmouthed anybody at the company. Never took the decision personally, either. And now, almost six months later, they are setting me up as a vendor and sending contract work my way.

That is so money, baby.


Punters Punt, Divers Dive, & Writers Write

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If you’re going to call yourself a writer, there’s just a single prerequisite – one thing, and one thing only, that you must do.

Write.

Seems pretty basic, doesn’t it? If you’re a punter on an NFL team, you’ll be lacing up your shoes following every possession and punting the ball. Your job description is right there in your title. If you’re a diver, you aren’t going to sit around reading books about coral reefs – you’re going to slip into a wetsuit and literally take the plunge. The same is true of butchers and bakers and candlestick makers.

Yet, for some reason, in recent weeks I had strayed from my self-anointed path.

I found myself reading a lot of books on freelance writing. And completing profiles on freelance sites like oDesk. Planning story ideas in my head. I was busy doing everything but the one thing I should have been doing all along: writing.

I’m not even sure how I fell into this trap of suddenly and persistently not writing. For a couple of months, my days were spent hunched over the computer, knocking out articles for my clients. And then I grew bored with the SEO assignments and broke up with a client, and the Groupon gig fell through. I sort of completely lost the will to write after that. Why should I bother? I thought. Either way, I’m getting paid the same amount every week. It’s easy to justify your laziness that way, because it’s true. I get paid $xxx.xx amount every week from the state of Washington. If I’ve earned income from self-employment that week, it’s deducted from my unemployment earnings, so it’s not like I gain anything from busting my butt on a daily basis.

I’ve realized, though, that while I may not have been gaining anything financially, I had definitely lost something: my passion. And that is inexcusable.

Why am I a writer? Because it’s what I love to do, plain and simple. It’s not the idea or the dream that I love, either – it’s the very process of creating. It doesn’t matter that I’m not a published novelist yet or earning $50K a year. I still rely on unemployment to get by…so what? The truth is, not writing is like stepping into a void. It leaves me feeling empty and without purpose. I don’t like that feeling.

Star Wars

Write, you should. (Courtesy of starwars.wikia.com).

You’ve probably heard of “the writer’s high.” I can tell you that isn’t just a nifty-sounding phrase, but a very real phenomenon. When I am writing, I feel a sense of euphoria wash over me. I am connected to the words on the screen, and can practically feel the creativity pumping in my blood and pulsing through my veins. It feels good, and like any junkie I crave more. More, more, more. I imagine it’s exactly how a punter feels when he’s squaring off against the ball in a packed stadium full of cheering and jeering fans, and how a diver feels while descending through the depths of Davy Jones’ locker. Alive. In their element. Full of purpose.

It’s very easy to be lazy. All you’ve got to do is nothing. And, I’ve learned, that’s contagious. If you’ve done nothing yesterday, you’ll feel like doing nothing today, and when tomorrow rolls around guess what you’ll be doing?

Doing something is a lot harder. That actually takes effort. But if it’s something you’re passionate about, not so much.

Sheesh, I feel like Yoda. Next I’ll be spouting off lines like, “Do or do not. There is no try.” Or designing motivational posters for office walls. The important thing is, I had an epiphany this week. I remembered that I’m a writer. And I began to write again.

If you’re a writer, I’ve come up with a few tips that will hopefully lead to success. These are things I’m tryi…err, doing (sorry, Yoda!) now.

  • Don’t bother with freelance outsource bidding sites. There are plenty of them out there – oDesk and elance.com are a couple of the better-known ones – but they are not worth your time. If you don’t believe me, read this. Basically you’ll find yourself competing against others for slave wages. Personally, I felt like I was part of a herd of cattle at an auction where each animal goes to the lowest bidder. Hey, I fired my first client because they were “only” paying me $12 per article – and then found myself competing for jobs promising $4 an article. Yes, I was temporarily insane.
  • “Content mills” aren’t necessarily evil. Though they often get a bad rap, so-called content mills – websites that pay freelancers to churn out articles that help the site rank highly on search engines – can be a good source of income, and provide steady work. Take Demand Studios, for instance (best known for eHow.com). I have been writing for them since January, and my experience has been nothing but positive. Here’s why: I choose which topics to write about from a continuously evolving queue (this morning there were 66,230 articles to choose from); each article pays a minimum of $15, and the format and structure enable a good writer to easily pen two or three an hour. I don’t know about you, but I’d call $45/hour pretty decent! Even doing one article an hour isn’t bad. Payments are made directly to your PayPal account twice a week, and you get your own byline. Plus, they don’t hire anybody off the street – you have to apply and write several sample articles that pass muster with their copy editors. I know people who have been rejected. It may not be the most glamorous writing you’ll ever do, but it’s a great way to hone your skills, build your portfolio, and leverage yourself to take it to the next level.
  • Aim for the stars. While it’s important to have a reliable source of income, $15 an article is still $15 article. If you’re going to be successful, you have to set your sights high and take a few risks. Last week I pitched a story idea to Portland Monthly, a regional magazine with a loyal subscriber base. If they accept the assignment, I’ll write about an unemployed single Oregon mother following her dream and starting her own business in the midst of a down economy. This person just happens to be my friend and sometime-client Chris from Portland Book Review. This would be great publicity for her, and freelance assignments with magazines are where the money – and glory – are. I plan to query some national publications next. A few clips in magazines can open a lot of doors that would be otherwise closed.
  • Don’t forget your blog! Blogging is the perfect creative outlet – you can write about tortilla chips that look like states or why you should avoid eating at Mexican restaurants with sombreros on the wall or whatever your heart desires. Sometimes you can even write about writing – how existential is that? Plus, it keeps your skills fresh and your brain from turning to mush. A few blogs even become ultra-popular and lead to fame and riches. Or so I’ve heard. Plus, it’s free publicity, and if done well can be an excellent showcase for your writing. Just don’t denigrate corporate America and scare off any potential employers!

There you have it – a few writing tips from a guy who isn’t yet a huge success, but has at least remembered who he is and what he does and is once again doing it.

Write on!

 

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