I Has Many Hearts

Not in my chest, of course. In fact, the word heartless has been shouted at me from time-to-time over the years. Never by anyone in the medical profession, fortunately, but my husband does occasionally loudly mention the word whenever I’m simply trying to make a convincing point. Considering the fact that I sit in my desk chair more hours per day than I sleep in my bed at night, and that I like steak and the [cough] occasional beer, I must admit that I do fear someone in the medical profession might one day mention the word heartsick in my presence. But, I digress.

On Saturdays (for example: today), I take the time to run computer maintenance tasks and change my desktop background for the new week. This is not a minor undertaking. My husband picks a background for his laptop and doesn’t change it until … actually, he’s never changed it. He hates change. I mentioned today that we might save some money if we moved again, and he almost had a nervous breakdown on the spot. But, I think I just digressed again.

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make is that I personally can’t stand to look at the same desktop for too long, and my efficiency takes a hit when I do. Over my almost-50-years, I’ve amassed a collection of almost one million stock images, and I choose a new one each week for my background. Unfortunately my tendencies toward ADD and OCD join forces every Saturday and attack me while I innocently try to select a new image.

I can’t just find one I like and stick with it. Oh, no. I’ve got to view every single available choice, after I’ve found one I like (just in case I find one even better), and it can take me as long as half-an-hour before I’m satisfied that I’ve found the very best one. The only thing that saves me from a spending all day searching through my entire million-strong collection is that I’m also OCD about choosing one based on current events.

So, today, I decided – since New Year’s is almost a month behind us – to ditch the clinking champagne glass images I’ve been alternating, and to select a Valentine’s image. About 15-minutes later, which is short for me, I was staring at several red candy hearts against a black background on my desktop. Unfortunately, I don’t care for them very much. I liked the clinking champagne glasses much better. Actually, I prefer Christmas images over anything else; in fact, I have so many Christmas images that the choosing process almost lands me in a mental institution every holiday season, which would be totally unfair because I is not mental whatsoever.

I is a writer.

I is not a Pimp

Raise your hand if you blew your New Year’s Resolution on the very first day after the New Year’s birth. Teacher, Teacher, I did!

Damn it.

I overslept, just for grins. Then, when I sat down to make my daily to-do list (I have a master list I work off of), I heard an explosion and the electricity went down. Somehow or another the top of an electric pole fell off. Anyway, making that list is my favorite part of the day – seriously! Because my husband routinely finds his way home at the end of every day, and his face, unlike my list, rarely changes.

Have you, whoever you is, ever had a groggy feeling all day, for no apparent reason? I felt like I’d been sedated, and no amount of food or caffeine helped. When the electricity came back on, I decided to work anyway. My first “assignment” was to find places in a certain city where someone could donate used clothing. That would have been an easy article, but the client’s site was off-line so they retracted the offer. Fine. Whatever.

So then I started researching ways a business could accept credit cards. Good grief! In my groggy state-of-mind, I just could not deal with sorting through all the websites I found, much less writing a coherent sentence. So, I tabled the article and started hunting for trade publications to send LOI’s to (letters of introduction). In my grogginess, I managed to get a staggering two whole emails sent.

So, I blew three resolutions today:

1. Write web content for four-hours, minimum.
2. Work on my fictional projects for two-hours, minimum.
3. Send an email query to a minimum of three publications.

These were my daily resolutions for 2013!

The only goals off my stupid, stupid to-do list that I actually managed to complete were to clean the litter box and call my dad to wish him a belated “Happy New Year.” (Cats prefer clean toilet facilities – that was very important, because they use my houseplants when they’re not satisfied customers.)

Not my daughter

Oh, well. Just blowing off some steam. I’ll try and do better tomorrow. Hmm. If there actually is a tomorrow. I never like to be too cocky about that.

Anyway, soon – I hope – I’ll be posting a photo of my gorgeous daughter modeling an “I IS a Writer” t-shirt on the “merchandise” page, in case anyone is interested in dressing grammatically incorrectly; however, please note that my daughter is not for sale. I is not a pimp.

I is a writer.

I is a Lonely Blogger. And a Geek.

You know you’re a real writer when you’re alone, blogging, on New Year’s Eve. Or at least a real geek.

I’m very serious about my plan to earn a better living as a freelancer, and to do so by the end of 2013. I’m also very serious about celebrating the next new year, rather than sitting alone in front of my computer because my husband fell asleep after his tummy got full. But, I digress yet again.

Before the economic crash a few years ago, I once had a client tell me that he wouldn’t pay the $600 he owed me unless I signed over all rights. This was after he already printed my work. I admit I was a bit slow on the uptake, which is why his bill grew so high before I realized I had a problem. Anyway, rather than argue, give up those rights, or investigate legal action, I let the matter drop. We actually didn’t consider $600 a big loss back then. Ha! Nowadays I’d hunt that editor down like the dirty, mangy, no-good, flea-bitten dog he is (no offense to dogs intended) and force him to cough up the cash!

Things were different then, as they were for a lot of other writers. Actually, as things were different for a lot of other working everybodies. I frequently mention in this blog my frustration when I must compete against other writers who will work for diddly-poo. When I’m searching the craigslist postings, I sometimes find writers even more frustrated; in fact, I ran across an ad today titled “Write for Nothing,” or something very similar. The content of the ad was mostly a diatribe against writing for one cent a word (or less), and ended with the comment that a person could make more money working in fast food than as a writer. I dropped the advertiser a short note in the hopes I could reprint it verbatim, but haven’t heard back.

A couple of months ago, I ran across a craigslist ad that was written by a writer in a public reply to a job posting for which the compensation was revenue sharing. The reply was nasty. That writer was seriously, seriously angry over yet another revenue-sharing job. I haven’t gotten that mad myself.

At least not yet.

As a small business owner, I’m approaching this writing gig more as diversification endeavor that will reliably pay the bills rather than as a way to fund a tropical vacation, as I used to. The first thing I did was to make a detailed, color-coded list of goals. Then I made a detailed, color-coded list of steps that must be taken to achieve those goals. Then I wished, for the billionth time, that I could get paid for writing detailed, color-coded lists (I’m really good at that, man!). Then I made some to-do list templates for each day.

Then it was a week later.

I’ve actually gotten some of my best jobs from craigslist, and I’ll let you in on two little tips in case you’re interested. Rather than subscribing to email lists that send you a daily compiliation of writing/blogging/editing, etc. opportunities, beat the masses that also receive those emails. Bookmark the link to your local craigslist, but then bookmark the links to major U.S. cities as well – especially Los Angeles.  Then, check them at least once a day, preferably more – again, especially Los Angeles. The email lists are usually at least a day old, and the firms or individuals who post the jobs get so many replies, once their posting is read by the subscriber masses, they usually delete the ad, or just stop reading all the incoming queries. It may be a bit time-consuming, but it’s worth it to be one of the first applicants.

The other tip is to run a google search with the words “writer OR blogger OR editor OR ghostwriter OR web content writer site:craigslist.org.” If you’re not an editor, etc., delete those search terms. This search will force google to scan every single craigslist ad in the world for your search terms. The results are astounding, although some are invalid (such as when a writer advertises for a roommate, which can happen a lot in some areas of the country). Ultimately, this method can be faster than going to each individual craigslist site.

Damn it. I slipped into writing web-content-how-to mode for a moment. I’m supposed to be using my blog readers as my personal therapists, not coaching them on how to beat me to the jobs!

Oh, well. I is writer.

By the way, happy New Year!

Crap! I IS Another Year Older!

I really is!

“So this is Christmas

What have you done

Another year older

A new one just begun”

From John Lenon’s “Happy Christmas (War is Over)” song

I almost died no fewer than three times in 2011. With that track record, you’d think I’d have charged into 2012 like an F5 tornado on steroids. I didn’t. I crawled into 2012 like it was truly nothing but a dirt tunnel and I was some hunchbacked Monte Cristo on some seriously powerful tranquilizers. 2012 was supposed to be my comeback year. 2012 was supposed to be the year I made a name for myself, left a permanent mark on the universe, shook hands with the Queen … or at least earned enough to call my own damn shots.

Excuse me while I move aside. Someone else is here to call my own damn shots and I’m in his way.

I stopped writing at all since my last post. Nothing for pay, nothing for pleasure, nothing on spec, nothing just in the hopes of landing something … nope. Nothing at all. I’ve spent all this time tying up loose ends in preparation for 2013. I want a clean slate.

I ain’t messing around anymore.

Those loose ends are officially history now: checked off to-do’s: balanced bank statements, filed paperwork; prepared transcripts, runned errands, mailed correspondence, finished reports … not to mention, the all-important, all-powerful, all-inclusive written list of goals for 2013. This time, maybe for the first time, it’s a clean, mean, fighting list. I’m at point B. I passed point A at the age of 17. Now I’m almost 50, and I’m standing on point B! God willing, I won’t be standing here next year!

I want to call myself a writer and not wince subconsciously. I want to stop doubting myself. I want to stop procrastinating. I want to stop making excuses, looking back at what could have been, looking forward toward what could happen, blaming, complaining, whining, sighing, wishing, hissing, hating, berating, or being that nice gal who always finishes last. OK, yeah, I still want to be that weirdly nice gal. I’m just a weirdly nice gal that way. But I don’t want to finish last anymore.

“So this is Christmas

What have you done”

Hopefully, when 2014 peeks over the horizon, I’ll be standing at the very least on point D and have a good answer for the question. Again, God willing.

I is a writer.

Isn’t I?