People might not be wishing the worst for you, but they certainly aren’t wishing you the best either. There’s something about bettering yourself that makes people uncomfortable and angry. People have no problem assuming what I’m incapable of without giving thought to all the things I’ve already accomplished. Or if they have, it’s dismissed with little regard.
I’ve wondered why it is that people want to think of me as lesser than, less intelligent, less of everything than they are. I’ve concluded it’s a combination of insecurity, social conditioning, and a lack of desire on their part. You can say what you want about progress. In my eyes it comes in many shapes and fails to become anything more than a concept, like most things.
Sometimes I wish people would just come out and say, “I’m supposed to be better than you. I’m not Black.” This goes unsaid, but it’s clear in the way people behave and how they speak. It’s evident in the opportunities that aren’t given, in the invitations that aren’t sent, the lack of consideration to the way you feel…I could go on.
I’m not writing with an emphasis on eloquence or a desire to be politically correct. I’m writing with the intent of transparency and making my thoughts clear for anyone reading. In the past year I’ve come up against some of the worst kinds of people. Racists, misogynists, people who can’t shake their own misery who desire to suck everyone into it like an inescapable void. That’s a pathetic kind of life, isn’t it.
It’s takes more courage to be generous and happy than it does to be hateful and injurious. While I have the propensity for forgiveness, I believe forgiveness isn’t warranted on all occasions, nor is it applicable. I don’t need apologies. I need for people to stop being trash.
When I first set out in the glamourous, unknown world of freelancing, I was fully committed to staying at home and saving money on $10 lunches or the lure of morning coffee. I figured that if I was going to already be paid relatively lowly — you seriously just got to love it and have supplemental income when you do it — that this would be a way for me to save on Metro card rides and the occasional cupcake purchase that always seems to happen when I step out of the house. Seriously, I don’t know how those baked goods end up in my bag.
What I realized about freelancing later on was that you will slowly go crazy if you spend all day in the apartment. You don’t think that would be the case, actually. You think, “Oh. I am fully committed to my apartment. I love writing there! I love my flowery curtains and the easy access to the bathroom! I don’t need to work well with others anymore! I don’t need to wash my hair everyday!” No. I will tell you that you are wrong, because spending your working hours in your house and then your fun hours in your house will give you cabin fever faster than a cabin with a cold sneezing on your naked face.
You will get work done in the house, no doubt about that, but only because those brief Gchat check-ins from your editor will keep you from doubting your existence. A few coping mechanisms you will implement: Continue reading
So, I moved. I left New York. You might have realized from Georgette’s super nice goodbye post, or you may not have, because you don’t really care about my life. Totally understandable.
This is me and a friend on moving day. We like wearing white shirts that much our teethy smiles.
I was going to write a “goodbye to new york” post, about staying and leaving, tall buildings, good friends, bad winters, etc. I tried, I really did. But I just can’t do it. Maybe I’m not ready to say goodbye to New York, but mostly, I think I’m not ready to say goodbye to anywhere. I have no idea what I’m doing with my life. (Even after college! Weren’t they supposed to teach me that? Shall I sue?) Continue reading
So you have dreams, who doesn’t. Dreams change, they stay the same, some make it, some don’t. Some say, “Failure isn’t an option,” but life dictates another reality. There’s something to be said for those who don’t give up, but there’s also a degree of clarity for those who’ve arrived at that narrow corridor of the status quo. What’s giving up anyway? For you it might mean never having achieved New York Times best-seller status, for some it might be falling out of the routine of writing, singing, or whatever it was that moved you to pursue something greater than what was expected from you, or what you had expected of yourself.
As with most New Year blog posts this one will be filled with self-reflection, promise to be better, and a gif or two using fireworks. Not to get too self-congratulatory, but I felt like I worked harder this year writing-wise. It’s slightly odd to think that I started off 2014 as an intern blogger and worked my way through several websites and into freelancing. Of course, I realized that blogging was best done (for me anyway) as something I loved, rather than a profession. So I turned back to writing fiction. This resulted in submitting a piece to an online journal, writing a fanfic for a Christmas gift, and even returning to a forgotten story idea. Someone last night asked me what my resolution for this year would be, and I replied (slightly rudely, I think) that I wasn’t going to make any. Possibly because I never keep them.
The guy I was talking to seemed surprised. I guess because I give off the excited vibes of someone who would, but I pointed out that that my self right now wasn’t going to be the same person by the end of year. I didn’t want to put responsibilities or expectations on her, but I was more than willing to see what she would get up to.
My writing professor always told us this in the same way, “You’re never the same writer you were yesterday. You’re usually better.” I nodded along, even saying the phrase to myself when I went to re-write stories. I felt it most strongly when I undertook a hard editing job this year on a story two years in the making. It felt like my younger self and my current self were working to make this story successful.
You’re always going to covet someone’s story or style or a line that they wrote, but reading that or even analyzing a line or a book you love are the building blocks of getting you to be a better writer. Every day you keep at it makes you a better writer, whether you know it or not. So rather than a resolution this year, here’s a commandment: thou shall write whatever.
And if you need more advice, good ol’ Henry Miller’s got your back.
Look how optimistic that title is. I’m trying to be a little more optimistic. Just a little. Like when people ask me, how are you? I’m trying to say fine like a normal person and not always say terrible. I’m trying to eat more vegetables. Smile at strangers. Whistle. It’s not really working out.
Anyway, so this is supposed to be about winter. It’s freezing out. It’s snowing, it’s icy, it’s cold. It may make you want to die, particularly when you wake up and have to get dressed and go to work. Have no fear! There may be some good things about winter after all. Here they are:
There are some good winter sports. I just started working at a ski resort, which is fun, but you can also go sledding and sliding on the sidewalk on your way to work. Also, falling on ice always makes your day more exciting/memorable/painful. Continue reading
We at Poor Writers commiserate with you in all things be it poor, writing, relationships, stubbed toe, and we’re always happy to have people to complain along with us — along with brown papered packages tied up with string, it’s on the top of our favorite things. So, without further ado, I bring you a guest post from Abi, a fellow poor writer and all around savvy minx.
So you’ve been dumped before the holidays. The bright, shiny, pine-scented togetherness you were looking forward to has been buried beneath the slush of an unambiguous rejection. Your heart has been shrunk three sizes too small. How do you indulge your Grinchiness short of ruining everyone else’s good cheer? Here are some suggestions: Continue reading
If you know me well, you’ll know I’m obsessed with all things beauty and skin care related. Being one to stick to daily regiments, having a daily beauty routine does me a world of good. Though I enjoy the wondrous glow of Sephora and department store counters, I’ve found many affordable items in my local drugstores as well. I’ll be sharing more of my favorite products in posts to come, but for now I’ll start off with my must have face masks.
Dear blog reader, if you don’t already know, this blog is brought to you by three very different women — though, when pressed, we’ve heard that we’re very much alike — pursuing a dream of writing, unabashedly. I’m very scared to share my stories or to even talk about my opinions, especially since I’ve been in New York where people are very blunt and dot like my Southern hugs, and in meeting Devin and Imani, they’ve made me realize many things about myself. Continue reading
So you have a reader or writer friend, relative, significant other, possibly coworker, maybe neighbor, or that guy you see sometimes and thought it would be nice to spread some holiday cheer towards. Well, lucky for you, dear blog reader, I have some excellent suggestions that will show your <insert relationship> feel like you think about him or her enough to get <insert name> a proper present. Or at least show that you know where cool kids shop.
P.S. I don’t know where cool kids shop. I just keep saying that I do to convince myself.
P.P.S. A good way to achieve your goal is to lie to yourself until it is real.
P.P.P.S. Results may very with that advice.
P.P.P.P.S. Yes that is a gif from Jingle All the Way Continue reading