GOOD NEWS FOR PEOPLE WHO LIKE BAD NEWS (OR ANY NEWS)
The inspiration for today’s post comes from the “Live Nude Blog!” mailbag, which we routinely peruse but rarely acknowledge. “Maggie” from Westchester, NY wrote to us with the following comment:
“You should write a novel this year.
That is all.”
If that only that were all, Maggie. Unfortunately, there is a part of the novel-writing equation that you left out, possibly because you were not aware of this particular integer. But such a whole number does exist, and contributes significantly to the formula which we temporal beings call “time.” In short, I have taken to working part-time as a reporter, so some of my written word-related creativity shall be deviated henceforth to that end.
That’s right, folks. The geniuses behind a certain syndicate of local newspapers in Brooklyn and Queens have been letting me work the Greenpoint/Williamsburg beat. During the past week—my first on the “job”—I have gotten to cover the unveiling of a student art exhibit called “Williamsburg Under Construction” at a local high school, and report on a public meeting. The latter took place somewhere called the Swinging 60’s Senior Center.
But the best part of this semi-regular gig (other than how it lets me get all the run-on sentences out of my system) is: I get paid to write.
Sure, it’s a mere double-X note for every article. However, it’s a fresh double-X note, and stories take place in the evening, allowing the flexibility for a day job. This reporting business, by the way, has been a complete blast so far. I’m hoping to spend the next year writing for this syndicate, which would give me fifteen consecutive months of experience (including the three I spent at The Free Press). After that, maybe I’ll be able to wheedle my way into a steadier position at a larger paper.
But for right now, expect to hear all about my fascinating adventurers as a reporter on this blog.
Excelsior!
The inspiration for today’s post comes from the “Live Nude Blog!” mailbag, which we routinely peruse but rarely acknowledge. “Maggie” from Westchester, NY wrote to us with the following comment:
“You should write a novel this year.
That is all.”
If that only that were all, Maggie. Unfortunately, there is a part of the novel-writing equation that you left out, possibly because you were not aware of this particular integer. But such a whole number does exist, and contributes significantly to the formula which we temporal beings call “time.” In short, I have taken to working part-time as a reporter, so some of my written word-related creativity shall be deviated henceforth to that end.
That’s right, folks. The geniuses behind a certain syndicate of local newspapers in Brooklyn and Queens have been letting me work the Greenpoint/Williamsburg beat. During the past week—my first on the “job”—I have gotten to cover the unveiling of a student art exhibit called “Williamsburg Under Construction” at a local high school, and report on a public meeting. The latter took place somewhere called the Swinging 60’s Senior Center.
But the best part of this semi-regular gig (other than how it lets me get all the run-on sentences out of my system) is: I get paid to write.
Sure, it’s a mere double-X note for every article. However, it’s a fresh double-X note, and stories take place in the evening, allowing the flexibility for a day job. This reporting business, by the way, has been a complete blast so far. I’m hoping to spend the next year writing for this syndicate, which would give me fifteen consecutive months of experience (including the three I spent at The Free Press). After that, maybe I’ll be able to wheedle my way into a steadier position at a larger paper.
But for right now, expect to hear all about my fascinating adventurers as a reporter on this blog.
Excelsior!
posted by Phil at 3:41 PM
3 Comments:
You should still write a novel. Time, schmime. I would read it.
- "Maggie" from "Westchester"
Scoop!
Scoop is in the house!
go, Scoop, go!
what they said, plus: You work for a Syndicate. AWESOME!
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