2:58 p.m. - 2003-12-02
Really Writing?
Ah, job searching. How do I hate thee.
I think my problem is I don't actually know how to do it very well. I know the major sites, and I check them, and I check out the sites of places I would love to work in a fantasy world, and then I just sort of run out of ideas. I've applied for a few jobs, all of which I would really like to get, but I don't really feel like I'm doing enough to really claim I'm "job hunting." I'm sort of job meandering, I think.
On the more exciting side, though, I just sent a real honest to goodness query letter, which was pretty cool. For those of you not geeky enough to read freelance writing reference material for fun, a query letter is when you hit up a magazine or whatever to publish an article you've written. Basically you pitch the article and then pitch yourself. It's like a cover letter for a specific article. I've learned how to do them, of course, in my various writing classes, but this is the first time I've actually sat myself down and forced myself to write it and then send it, damn the torpedoes. Kind of exciting. I intelligently set my sights fairly low, on a local publication, and now I'll just sit around and wait impatiently. Because I am oh so good at waiting to hear back from people.
On the up side of having to sit around and wait, the cable guy was here a little while ago and fixed our TV, so now I can wait impatiently with more channels. If I'm smart, I'll keep up the momentum of NaNo and write a whole crapload of query letters and go on a mad mailing blitz, but eeek. That's some scary stuff right there, that is. That's like admitting that I think I'm good enough to really make it. Yikes. That's a pretty huge committment. Am I ready to make it? I guess that's the question I need to spend the next little while trying to figure out.
In a perfect world, I wouldn't have to find a job. I would be successful enough in getting some articles written and submitted that I could squeak out a little bit of money and start seriously thinking about doing this for real. After all, I just wrote a 50 000 word novel in a month. Who's to say that I'm not allowed to really be a writer?
I think the only person really stopping me? Is me.
