I have two more weeks to finish schoolwork, and I almost couldn't give a damn. Today I had an hour-long phone interview with the recruiting editor at the Star-Telegram, and he set up a second interview for the day I get back in Fort Worth (a Wednesday). Just to top it off, I have the Tyler interview on Thursday, the day after. And then I have a third interview on that Friday in Temple.
I rock the journalism world. Like a mo fo.
I feel smug. I feel confident. I feel giddy and excited and my stomach is filled with butterflies. I feel like I really, really need to get some sleep before this all happens, but I don't really foresee that happening. I will be up at work and frantically finishing schoolwork and partying until I leave the day after class ends. Then I land Wednesday morning, have an interview Wednesday night, and have interviews and interviews and driving and driving.
I can't wait!
What makes it even better is that I planned this all perfectly, somehow, and luck helped out afterward. Scheduling that week in Fort Worth was intended to give me time for interviews, but when I booked it I didn't have any interviews to fill the days. Now I do. I won't get to see as much of Dan and my friends as I'd like, but it'll be ok--a lot of them will be in the same position of doing last-minute job things.
I feel like celebrating Thanksgiving for real, now, in December. Let's get thankful. I know I am.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Inspired Confliction
The closer I get to the end of the schoolyear, the more excited I get, and the more worried I get as well. It's the job thing. There's not really anything else to get worried about. After everything is turned in for classes, I go home and do a last-minute job hunt. The editors from the Tyler Morning Telegraph asked that I drive there (the Rose Capital of Texas) on Thursday for an interview . . . "Drive over, we'll take you to lunch and we'll only keep you for four or five hours." That's got to be a good sign, right? I talked to the managing editor for a half hour on the phone, and he was quite enthusiastic that I wanted to do cops and then could move into health. The health writer has been there for like 50 years or something and is looking to retire soon.
I feel fairly confident that they will make me an offer. I feel fairly confident it's going to be hard to accept. If I can ever get in touch with one of the managing editors at the Star-T, I can see if there's any chance of getting a job there. Lee said he could get me started as a correspondent--freelance work, essentially--at about $600 for a 15-inch feature and $100-$200 for news stories. If I could assure I get a couple stories a week and figure something out with health benefits, that could be a real possibility.
The thing is that being in Tyler would be a pain. For a while now I've been resigned to the fact that I probably won't end up in Fort Worth, but the closer the prospect gets, the more I really don't want that to happen. I don't want to have to try and move the horses to a barn as good as the one they're at now. I don't want to try to find an entire apartment to rent, and to buy all the bullshit that comes with living on one's own. I don't want to see Dan and Julie every once in a while. Even if I have weekends off to go home, Dan will be working and so will Julie. If I have days off in the middle of the week, which may be more likely, then they'll have work AND school. If I go to Tyler, it would have to be for a year and a half or two years.
Julie shouldn't have to babysit Topper anymore. And Dan and I are sick of trying to be in the same place at the same time. He graduates in a few months, and then he'll have to get a job. The likelihood that we'll get jobs in the same city are really slim if the city is anything smaller than Fort Worth.
Obviously, I only have one choice. I have to get an agent and get my novel sold and get a nice fat advance.
I don't know how my parents will take it if I decide to stay in Fort Worth and turn down a steady job in Tyler. I don't know how Dan and Julie will take it if I turn down being able to help them out in order to go to Tyler. I know I'd rather be in Fort Worth. I know I can get by on less money there because I'll have less to pay for--sharing an apartment with Julie would be significantly cheaper than trying to furnish and live in an apartment of my own in another town.
I'm absolutely conflicted.
On the other hand, at least I'm inspired. One of Ellen's book agent friends came into class and was talking about the process of getting a book published. She was talking nonfiction, but the more she talked, the more absolutely confident I felt that I could do this. As soon as I get established somewhere I'm gonna start searching for an agent. Wouldn't that be a riot? I'd be a rock star. Even if I got a smallish advance, if it let me live in Fort Worth, work part-time and write, that's all I need.
Earlier this week I ran across some writing I'd done back before college, my senior year of high school. At home I have two massive binders with printed copies of tons of stuff I've written, and I can go back through everything regularly. Since my parents have moved, all of that is in a box in storage somewhere with the rest of my books. I haven't read anything that I'd written just for fun in a long time. It's an experience. Some of the stuff was downright silly, but there were surprising good bits that I could hardly believe had come out of my head.
The combination of the agent and my old stuff made me feel like writing again. I haven't really done anything on my draft since coming up here. I decided I need to relocate my story--it would make more sense to set it here in the Boston area, actually. The Dallas area would have worked, but this is better. And I've done a lot of reading of people I really admire, so now I want to change my writing style a bit. It would be hard to change it too much--my voice is apparent from ten miles away with almost everything I've done--but I'm looking forward to it all. I'm quite serious in that I will get this out.
Also, if you ask me what I'm working on, I'll give you the same old answer: I can't tell you. It's quite silly and superstitious of me, but no one may ever know what I'm working on until it hits stands. Yes, I'm afraid of failure.
Just a few more weeks.
I feel fairly confident that they will make me an offer. I feel fairly confident it's going to be hard to accept. If I can ever get in touch with one of the managing editors at the Star-T, I can see if there's any chance of getting a job there. Lee said he could get me started as a correspondent--freelance work, essentially--at about $600 for a 15-inch feature and $100-$200 for news stories. If I could assure I get a couple stories a week and figure something out with health benefits, that could be a real possibility.
The thing is that being in Tyler would be a pain. For a while now I've been resigned to the fact that I probably won't end up in Fort Worth, but the closer the prospect gets, the more I really don't want that to happen. I don't want to have to try and move the horses to a barn as good as the one they're at now. I don't want to try to find an entire apartment to rent, and to buy all the bullshit that comes with living on one's own. I don't want to see Dan and Julie every once in a while. Even if I have weekends off to go home, Dan will be working and so will Julie. If I have days off in the middle of the week, which may be more likely, then they'll have work AND school. If I go to Tyler, it would have to be for a year and a half or two years.
Julie shouldn't have to babysit Topper anymore. And Dan and I are sick of trying to be in the same place at the same time. He graduates in a few months, and then he'll have to get a job. The likelihood that we'll get jobs in the same city are really slim if the city is anything smaller than Fort Worth.
Obviously, I only have one choice. I have to get an agent and get my novel sold and get a nice fat advance.
I don't know how my parents will take it if I decide to stay in Fort Worth and turn down a steady job in Tyler. I don't know how Dan and Julie will take it if I turn down being able to help them out in order to go to Tyler. I know I'd rather be in Fort Worth. I know I can get by on less money there because I'll have less to pay for--sharing an apartment with Julie would be significantly cheaper than trying to furnish and live in an apartment of my own in another town.
I'm absolutely conflicted.
On the other hand, at least I'm inspired. One of Ellen's book agent friends came into class and was talking about the process of getting a book published. She was talking nonfiction, but the more she talked, the more absolutely confident I felt that I could do this. As soon as I get established somewhere I'm gonna start searching for an agent. Wouldn't that be a riot? I'd be a rock star. Even if I got a smallish advance, if it let me live in Fort Worth, work part-time and write, that's all I need.
Earlier this week I ran across some writing I'd done back before college, my senior year of high school. At home I have two massive binders with printed copies of tons of stuff I've written, and I can go back through everything regularly. Since my parents have moved, all of that is in a box in storage somewhere with the rest of my books. I haven't read anything that I'd written just for fun in a long time. It's an experience. Some of the stuff was downright silly, but there were surprising good bits that I could hardly believe had come out of my head.
The combination of the agent and my old stuff made me feel like writing again. I haven't really done anything on my draft since coming up here. I decided I need to relocate my story--it would make more sense to set it here in the Boston area, actually. The Dallas area would have worked, but this is better. And I've done a lot of reading of people I really admire, so now I want to change my writing style a bit. It would be hard to change it too much--my voice is apparent from ten miles away with almost everything I've done--but I'm looking forward to it all. I'm quite serious in that I will get this out.
Also, if you ask me what I'm working on, I'll give you the same old answer: I can't tell you. It's quite silly and superstitious of me, but no one may ever know what I'm working on until it hits stands. Yes, I'm afraid of failure.
Just a few more weeks.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Call Me and We'll Do Something
I woke up Monday thinking I was getting sick with a cold and praying it wasn't another throat infection because I reeeeeeally don't want to deal with a doctor. My throat was sore, my body hurt, I had a headache and I felt like I was burning up. Megan recommended vitamins and echinacea, so I trekked down to the drug store for Tylenol and some magical herbal supplements. I don't take vitamins or anything on a regular basis, and I always lose my Tylenol (I swear I have 8 bottles somewhere), and the cool damp air felt good.
Yesterday I felt better, and it helped that Ellen was out of town and I could nap when I would otherwise be faking that I had something good for my narrative. I do have something good, it's just all scattered right now, and I couldn't be bothered because I wanted a nap. Plus, I had a cover letter to perfect.
The cover letter was for the Star-Telegram. Phil Record told me to send stuff in to Larry Lutz, the recruiting officer/assistant managing editor, and I'm hoping to goodness they have something for me. Anything. Please. Dan worked with my on his cover letter, passing on what he learned from his editor, who's been coaching Dan on internship applications. It took three or four tries before I got a cover letter that worked.
I overnighted my stuff to Larry, and it's all I can do not to call right now to see if he got it. I'm going to call Phil instead, and let him know I sent it in (maybe he'll talk to Larry for me) and find out when I can call. I feel like a girl who just met a guy she really, really liked and she wants to call to hang out or something but doesn't want to sound desperate. (I admit, that analogy is from Catherine, who was one of my editors.)
I don't want to sound desperate, but I sort of am. I desperately want this job, to be able to live with my sister, to be in the same town as Dan again, to have Topper and Mexican food and Blue Mesa margaritas and mild winters and big skies.
Tonight I might try to go running. I haven't been since before school started, and I've been a total of like 4 times since last school year. I was on my bike a lot, which is great, but I don't want to deal with traffic and all the debris on the road from the rain. But I'm feeling schleppy and need to get out.
I found a bit of an antidote to my sleeping problem. I found that if I leave my reading light on I can more easily fall asleep. It's kinda pitiful that I have to trick my body into thinking I'm taking a nap in order to sleep.
So close and yet so far away. I can't believe it's been a year and a half already, but in some ways it seems so damn long.
Yesterday I felt better, and it helped that Ellen was out of town and I could nap when I would otherwise be faking that I had something good for my narrative. I do have something good, it's just all scattered right now, and I couldn't be bothered because I wanted a nap. Plus, I had a cover letter to perfect.
The cover letter was for the Star-Telegram. Phil Record told me to send stuff in to Larry Lutz, the recruiting officer/assistant managing editor, and I'm hoping to goodness they have something for me. Anything. Please. Dan worked with my on his cover letter, passing on what he learned from his editor, who's been coaching Dan on internship applications. It took three or four tries before I got a cover letter that worked.
I overnighted my stuff to Larry, and it's all I can do not to call right now to see if he got it. I'm going to call Phil instead, and let him know I sent it in (maybe he'll talk to Larry for me) and find out when I can call. I feel like a girl who just met a guy she really, really liked and she wants to call to hang out or something but doesn't want to sound desperate. (I admit, that analogy is from Catherine, who was one of my editors.)
I don't want to sound desperate, but I sort of am. I desperately want this job, to be able to live with my sister, to be in the same town as Dan again, to have Topper and Mexican food and Blue Mesa margaritas and mild winters and big skies.
Tonight I might try to go running. I haven't been since before school started, and I've been a total of like 4 times since last school year. I was on my bike a lot, which is great, but I don't want to deal with traffic and all the debris on the road from the rain. But I'm feeling schleppy and need to get out.
I found a bit of an antidote to my sleeping problem. I found that if I leave my reading light on I can more easily fall asleep. It's kinda pitiful that I have to trick my body into thinking I'm taking a nap in order to sleep.
So close and yet so far away. I can't believe it's been a year and a half already, but in some ways it seems so damn long.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
To Do List
I have one month and one day til my last assignment is due and I'm done. That means I have to find a job and send off the last two internship applications. That means I have to finish Ellen's piece and somehow come up with something to do for Falla---something I can do in one day, something I can take care of quickly. I have to finish my piece for the Globe.
In the meantime, however, there's a whole slew of movies to see and drinks to have with people. I'm crossing my fingers that Dan's a finalist for the Globe internship and gets flown up here for an interview, too, because that would be exactly what I'll need--a good break in the last rush of chaos. Boston is so much more fun when you have someone to do everything with. Life in general is more fun that way. But if not, I'm back home in a month, so all will be well.
I pulled my jumper necklace out the other day because I was missing Topper. It's a James Avery charm of a horse and rider going over a jump, and I put it away for a while because I'm afraid of the loop breaking and losing the charm forever. They don't make that charm anymore, and I'd be so sad if it were gone. When I'm at home I may ask to have a new loop put on it, just as reinforcement.
The plan is for me to go home for about a week, bum around with Topper and Dan, and Julie and I fly out for Christmas. Dan and I will meet up back in Boston, do last-minute stuff, celebrate New Year's and then leave on the 1st. I don't even know what to think about everything. It'll be funny to know I won't be driving back up here in another three months.
Things are good.
In the meantime, however, there's a whole slew of movies to see and drinks to have with people. I'm crossing my fingers that Dan's a finalist for the Globe internship and gets flown up here for an interview, too, because that would be exactly what I'll need--a good break in the last rush of chaos. Boston is so much more fun when you have someone to do everything with. Life in general is more fun that way. But if not, I'm back home in a month, so all will be well.
I pulled my jumper necklace out the other day because I was missing Topper. It's a James Avery charm of a horse and rider going over a jump, and I put it away for a while because I'm afraid of the loop breaking and losing the charm forever. They don't make that charm anymore, and I'd be so sad if it were gone. When I'm at home I may ask to have a new loop put on it, just as reinforcement.
The plan is for me to go home for about a week, bum around with Topper and Dan, and Julie and I fly out for Christmas. Dan and I will meet up back in Boston, do last-minute stuff, celebrate New Year's and then leave on the 1st. I don't even know what to think about everything. It'll be funny to know I won't be driving back up here in another three months.
Things are good.
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Slow Season
Yesterday was one of those cold days where there are clouds but they're so compact and low that the sky looks fake. The particular color of blue wasn't helping any. By late afternoon I was sorry I didn't have a scarf and gloves. My legs are starting to get itchy, which means it's becoming winter.
I booked a flight back to Texas today for the day after Ellen's piece is due and after the last day of classes. The exciting thing is it only cost $99 ($117 after taxes) and Dan can actually pick me up. We also think we have an in at his uncle's beach house in Connecticut, so we can leave on the 1st and stay there. We can stay out all night and still make the short drive down there. Then we'll head back to Texas with my computer, my TV, my bike and my little table in my car and get him back to work and me back home.
Tomorrow starts my week of posting for SciTini, as I'm the acting managing editor. My start wasn't very good. No one turned in a single thing on time, and I finally got in a story for Monday . . . and that story was supposed to be turned in a week ago. It kinda ticked me off. I'm trying to revamp one of my own stories (an additional one) so I have stuff to put up. The whole thing just has me angry because that's the central thing of being a journalist: meeting deadlines. If you are consistently late, you shouldn't be in journalism. It's shoddy work. Seriously. Now, I don't know if these people have been consistenly late--I'm only ME for one week--but from the way everyone's been talking, I think everyone's late all the time. Am I the only person who's only been late once?
I'll get off my soapbox now. But things get me riled up when they're close to my heart, and deadlines are close to my heart.
Now that my last article is underway for the website, I'm feeling funny. It's almost like I've got too little to do. I'm only working on approximately 4 stories now--Ellen, sports writing, the Globe and then the once I'm slowly piecing together about blood doping. It's remarkable. I'm not saying it's not nice, it's just odd after being so near-overwhelmed with stories. I never knew how busy I was until just now, when it's letting up a bit.
Chelsea is coming into town in about two weeks--I haven't seen her since she went back to Tulane at the end of last fall semester, so it's exciting to see her again. Someone to eat pizza with!
Like I don't eat enough pizza every Saturday at work. We're in the middle of tourney season now, so things have been a little slower than usual. I'm almost dreading tomorrow night because Sundays are slow to begin with. Once the first edition is out, there's not a lot to do.
I'm watching Breakfast at Tiffany's and wondering why no one acts like Audrey Hepburn's characters anymore. I'm glad most women don't wear turban-type hats anymore, though.
I booked a flight back to Texas today for the day after Ellen's piece is due and after the last day of classes. The exciting thing is it only cost $99 ($117 after taxes) and Dan can actually pick me up. We also think we have an in at his uncle's beach house in Connecticut, so we can leave on the 1st and stay there. We can stay out all night and still make the short drive down there. Then we'll head back to Texas with my computer, my TV, my bike and my little table in my car and get him back to work and me back home.
Tomorrow starts my week of posting for SciTini, as I'm the acting managing editor. My start wasn't very good. No one turned in a single thing on time, and I finally got in a story for Monday . . . and that story was supposed to be turned in a week ago. It kinda ticked me off. I'm trying to revamp one of my own stories (an additional one) so I have stuff to put up. The whole thing just has me angry because that's the central thing of being a journalist: meeting deadlines. If you are consistently late, you shouldn't be in journalism. It's shoddy work. Seriously. Now, I don't know if these people have been consistenly late--I'm only ME for one week--but from the way everyone's been talking, I think everyone's late all the time. Am I the only person who's only been late once?
I'll get off my soapbox now. But things get me riled up when they're close to my heart, and deadlines are close to my heart.
Now that my last article is underway for the website, I'm feeling funny. It's almost like I've got too little to do. I'm only working on approximately 4 stories now--Ellen, sports writing, the Globe and then the once I'm slowly piecing together about blood doping. It's remarkable. I'm not saying it's not nice, it's just odd after being so near-overwhelmed with stories. I never knew how busy I was until just now, when it's letting up a bit.
Chelsea is coming into town in about two weeks--I haven't seen her since she went back to Tulane at the end of last fall semester, so it's exciting to see her again. Someone to eat pizza with!
Like I don't eat enough pizza every Saturday at work. We're in the middle of tourney season now, so things have been a little slower than usual. I'm almost dreading tomorrow night because Sundays are slow to begin with. Once the first edition is out, there's not a lot to do.
I'm watching Breakfast at Tiffany's and wondering why no one acts like Audrey Hepburn's characters anymore. I'm glad most women don't wear turban-type hats anymore, though.
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