Money Talk Certainly Encourages the Abuse of Caps
Posted by Moose on September 11th, 2007. Filed under: Uncategorized, Writing.I don’t make a lot of money. I never have, except for a five month stint in corporate America after college where I wore an itchy suit and chewed up pillows in my free time because I hated life so much. Eventually I picked the goose feathers out of my teeth, handed in my resignation, and took my paychecks to Italy for six weeks. I haven’t once been sorry.
I crawl through periods of WOE. WOE IS ME, FOR I CANNOT MAKE ANY MONEY. And then I shut up – hopefully before I open my mouth though usually after I glare sullenly at the wall – because I realize this was my choice. Writing is not the easiest way to make a living wage, much less stacks of hundreds to run your ruby-tipped fingers through while lounging on sedated tigers, which is what I assume Danielle Steel does with her time. But writing is what I want to do and now I’m doing it. At least until my cash supply runs out.
Leaving my job without any income source visible to the naked eye was like exulting in my freedom and then deciding to use that freedom to dive off a roof before checking the grass for springiness. I have student loans, car insurance, health insurance, and the Children International people I can’t bring myself to remove from my monthly credit card statement, thereby yanking food from some poor Guatemalan child’s mouth. And I have my pride. What if I never get another job? What if no one wants to pay me to write for them? What if they do want to pay me, but they want to pay me $3.95 for six million words? WHAT IF I DIE HOMELESS AND ALONE? EXCEPT FOR A MANGY CAT WAITING IMPATIENTLY FOR MY DEMISE SO IT CAN FEAST ON MY FACE BECAUSE I HAVEN’T FED IT IN THREE DAYS?
Except I don’t have a cat. What I do have is two months worth of expenses in the bank, no kids, parents who won’t let me live on the street, friends who won’t let me go hungry and a boyfriend who owns a house and is willing to let me pay rent in bananas. That’s not even an unfortunate euphemism – I really DO pay rent in bananas. I buy our groceries and he doesn’t raise his eyebrows significantly when I hand him the PG&E bill and a quarter. (Ha! I kid! I don’t actually hand him a quarter. He’s lucky if I even fetch the mail.)
Really, could it be easier? Without winning the lottery? (In which case, we all know what I’d be doing. Running my ruby-tipped fingers through stacks of hundreds. Maybe even sending money to TWO Guatemalan school children.) I’ve always wanted to try freelance writing and now I am. So I have to own it. And own it I do. To the tune of a whopping $130. That’s what I made last month. I can clutch my head and brandish my WOE IS ME file or I can view it as whipping the freelance world into a frenzy to do my bidding. I CHOOSE THE WHIPPING.
Follow your dreams, people. At least until your cash runs out. After that, well, I’ll keep you posted.
September 11th, 2007 at 10:31 pm
You have your integrity. Mine? that was sold for GREAT health insurance and a lovely view of the bridge from the 18th floor office where I pimp myself for bonuses and hanging out with people my age making –no lie — MILLIONS more than I do – because they realized that a business degree followed by an MBA at an Ivy League was a better idea than fashion school. Well, I was *cooler* for them for 10 minutes… but we still have the same pop-culture view and even though they have NO IDEA the kinds of shoes they could be buying with their millions – they can still afford them… and I can’t… but still I … yeah… KEEP FOLLOWING YOUR DREAM DAMMIT – and in the immortal words of TIm Gunn…MAKE IT WORK people… make it work!
September 12th, 2007 at 5:38 am
Bananas are much more nourishing than pennies. And tastier. I see that as a win-win situation.
September 12th, 2007 at 9:18 am
Huh…. I sold my integrity for awful insurance, the back end view of million dollar apartments (the view with the dumpsters, yeah), and constant fear of off-shoring. But hey, I can read blogs at work!!
Follow the dream Moose, you’re living it for all of us!
September 12th, 2007 at 11:45 am
Catwalker and Jhianna: I’m not sure I can really claim integrity. It’s not like I’m sipping whiskey and penning brilliant prose that will change the literary world. I’m mostly just begging people to let me write about their mascara. (I will make it sound LIFE CHANGING and AWE INSPIRING. Just pay me. Something. Anything.)
So, really, I’m just a less successful sell-out. The upside is that I get to make grilled cheese sandwiches whenever I want.
Nora: You know.
Although, my unemployment was my own decision. Yours was prompted by a necessary move to another country. (When in doubt, blame Crunchy Boy. Hi, CB!)
September 12th, 2007 at 1:08 pm
How about banana bread? Would he let you pay in that? Or, more to the point, would he let ME pay in that? I keep trying to work “freelance writing” into my spare time, the spare time I have left AFTER working at my corporate job, and now I’m realizing why that’s not working out. Note to self: Quit Job.
September 12th, 2007 at 7:08 pm
I’m so jealous. I want to lie around on sedated tigers. Or else be a freelance writer. Either way. Office corporate type job? Not nearly as fancy as either of those options.
September 12th, 2007 at 8:00 pm
God, I know. We have this big old trip planned and are suddenly like, “Ohhhhh. Wait. Were we planning on EATING while we’re in Hawaii? What can we sell? Plasma? Kidneys? Eggs? I’m on it!”
Freelancing is definitely hard, and I guess you have to make sure you keep doing the things that make it worthwhile, like running on the beach and exploring Chinatown and going to museums at noon because of that flexible schedule benefit. And you’re doing great. It just takes a while.
September 12th, 2007 at 10:32 pm
Oh see, I should be caught up. Now I know you don’t have a cat. I’m glad you’re following your dreams and I have no advice about making money, but hey, kudos on the $130.00. er .. right?
I think a life changing mascara ad is just what the world needs. No, really.
September 13th, 2007 at 12:18 pm
I would pay at least $130 for a mascara that changed my life. Or at least made me APPEAR to have some eyelashes. Hey, get on that!