Two years ago in my blogging career I was the Eyeball on Arrival at the World Social Forum. Last year we were setting up our new headquarters in Prospect Heights. Three years ago, I was a depressed freelancer, blogging as follows:
We admit it, we are discouraged. From Verba Volant: Le d�lai stimule le journaliste. Lorsqu'il a le temps, il �crit pi�trement. That is, "Journalists are stimulated by deadlines, and do not write as well when they have plenty of time." David Eide's Sun Oasis newsletter arrives in the old inbox:In reading over the recruiting literature some points emerge. One is to look at economic downturns as an opportunity rather than a moment of despair. Another is that you rise to the level of what you think you're worth. We know it doesn't work as easily and as quickly as that but it starts there. Of course, many writers are not the greatest employees and they view a career path a bit differently than does the corporate manager. Writing is notorious for being a profession with low salaries. It's like teaching or nursing; professions where the work itself has to bring satisfaction for those doing it.
The satisfaction of having health insurance would not be unwelcome either. I send David my Werewolf profile. Riding on the F train this morning, I am reading the New York Press and thinking, What is it I need to do to get ahead of the curve and get some salable stories? Strasbaugh's interview with the author of a prison memoir is really good. Shorter sentences, irony less broad, meet more humans in meat-person, that's the ticket. I am going to keep on keeping on.
At the time I was was working on a story about CAIR, had written a profile of my friend Ivan Lerner for The Morning News, and was trying to cover an e-learning beat. I think I was writing a column on energy as well. Hard to remember that far back. And there was this photo of the junior Mermaid: