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Thursday, November 27, 2003
OK, people, this is it. The home stretch. 17,000 words in four days. Can I do it?
So far, so good. Between last night and this morning, I managed to turn in over 5600 words, putting me within striking distance of 40,000. Assuming I'm too full of mashed potatoes to write any more today, the challenge is now 10,000 words in three days. That seems reasonable to me.
Of course, I'm kind of cheating. I've got two independent stories now, and it's not at all clear that they're going to meet. I might be able to pull of a miraculous last-minute deus ex machina like I did last year, but that's not a priority for me at the moment. I'm just concerned with getting to 50,000 words. If I can be disciplined this weekend, I'm cautiously optimistic that I'll make it.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! If you're bored, try celebrating with Strong Bad.
So far, so good. Between last night and this morning, I managed to turn in over 5600 words, putting me within striking distance of 40,000. Assuming I'm too full of mashed potatoes to write any more today, the challenge is now 10,000 words in three days. That seems reasonable to me.
Of course, I'm kind of cheating. I've got two independent stories now, and it's not at all clear that they're going to meet. I might be able to pull of a miraculous last-minute deus ex machina like I did last year, but that's not a priority for me at the moment. I'm just concerned with getting to 50,000 words. If I can be disciplined this weekend, I'm cautiously optimistic that I'll make it.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! If you're bored, try celebrating with Strong Bad.
| NaNoWriMo Update | ||
| Total Word Count: | 39112 | |
| Daily Word Count: | 2836 | |
| % Complete: | 78.22% | |
| +/-: | -3.99 days | |
Sunday, November 23, 2003
“So, what do you do?”
There’s a very American tendency to answer this question by indicating what your job is. What you “do” is what you’re paid to do, and any other activities in which you may incidentally partake are simply diversions, hobbies, or illusions.
By the strict American definition, then, it appears that I am now a “writer”.
Through a strange series of circumstances involving a relative of a fellow blogger, a few carefully-worded emails, and the strategic distribution of several cases of Frango holiday mints, I believe that I have secured a semi-regular writing gig with a newspaper in, of all places, Baltimore.
The arrangement appears to be that I write a column for them every 4-6 weeks, and they give me money for it. The column is then imaged onto a metal plate and run through a giant printing press, which transfers the words onto sheets of newsprint. These sheets are then cut, bundled, and sold to the good citizens of Baltimore on Sunday for $1.25 per copy.
The implication of this agreement is somewhat astounding. The financiers of this venture seem to think that there is enough interest in what I have to say that the cost of my services can be recouped from the money they make by selling the paper to people who want to read what I have written. (The columns will also appear on the web for free, of course, which calls their business model into question somewhat. I’m not going to say anything more about this issue, lest they decide that my fee is too high.)
This is weird for many reasons. First of all, it means that an enormous number of people will have the opportunity to read my writing. The words that I type on this computer will eventually be printed and delivered to thousands of Baltimoreans once or possibly twice per month. They will be whisked off of frost-covered porches, read over muffins and coffee, and used to line bird cages. I find that very interesting.
Second, it means that a small subset of the Baltimore Sun’s audience will actually read what I write to gain insight into matters technological, which I understand to be the general focus of my assignment. This might not seem like a problem at first, given my extensive background in technology, but such an assumption ignores my equally-extensive background in being an idiot. As I sit here writing this, in fact, I find myself unable to access the free Wi-Fi offered by the coffee shop I’m sitting in. Is it a problem, hypocrisy-wise, to be unable to submit your column about technology due to computer problems? Let’s hope not.
Finally, it means that someone will actually be paying me to write. I have no qualifications whatsoever that indicate that this would be a prudent investment. I haven’t taken any specialized classes to teach my how to write, nor have I produced any written works of note. (I’ll let you decide if this blog is notable or not.) The only reason to consider me a writer at all, it seems, is the fact that I occasionally write stuff. I guess it's like Robert Rodriguez says: if you want to be a filmmaker, don't waste time worrying about the title . Just call yourself a filmmaker and get on with making films.
So does this mark the beginning of a new career for our hero? Will Mr. Dierdorf finally break free of the chains that shackle him to the poisoned teat of our polluted economic machine, allowing him to spread the wings of his artistic ambitions and soar above the clouds of soullessness and despair?
If I continue to write sentences like that, definitely not. Even without the help of radically-mixed metaphors, I don’t see this as any kind of major life change. Although I could live off of the proceeds of this new column if I chose, such a life would require me to reside in a dumpster and eat whatever scraps I could find in the trash can at McDonald's. Thus, there are significant financial incentives to keep my job.
At this point, I’m just treating it as an extra blog entry per month, for which I’ll receive enough money to offset a portion of the staggering monthly bill I ring up at the iTunes Music Store. It’s an exciting opportunity, and it will be good experience, but I don’t want to make it out to be anything more than it is. (It’s not like I’m going to spend an entire blog entry yammering on about it or anything.) I pretty much backed in to this situation, so it’s certainly nothing to get cocky about.
As a matter of fact, any claim I might have to the title of Writer could instantly be erased with one quick glance at my novel. For the sake of the Baltimore Sun and its sterling reputation, I hope that none of this novel ever sees the light of day. If it gets out that the paper is affiliated with me professionally, they’d probably have to shut the place down.
At any rate, my first column was published today. I'm not wild about the title they chose, but that's OK. You may read it here:
Digital Drudgery
And if you know anyone in Baltimore, tell them to go buy a paper or two.
There’s a very American tendency to answer this question by indicating what your job is. What you “do” is what you’re paid to do, and any other activities in which you may incidentally partake are simply diversions, hobbies, or illusions.
By the strict American definition, then, it appears that I am now a “writer”.
Through a strange series of circumstances involving a relative of a fellow blogger, a few carefully-worded emails, and the strategic distribution of several cases of Frango holiday mints, I believe that I have secured a semi-regular writing gig with a newspaper in, of all places, Baltimore.
The arrangement appears to be that I write a column for them every 4-6 weeks, and they give me money for it. The column is then imaged onto a metal plate and run through a giant printing press, which transfers the words onto sheets of newsprint. These sheets are then cut, bundled, and sold to the good citizens of Baltimore on Sunday for $1.25 per copy.
The implication of this agreement is somewhat astounding. The financiers of this venture seem to think that there is enough interest in what I have to say that the cost of my services can be recouped from the money they make by selling the paper to people who want to read what I have written. (The columns will also appear on the web for free, of course, which calls their business model into question somewhat. I’m not going to say anything more about this issue, lest they decide that my fee is too high.)
This is weird for many reasons. First of all, it means that an enormous number of people will have the opportunity to read my writing. The words that I type on this computer will eventually be printed and delivered to thousands of Baltimoreans once or possibly twice per month. They will be whisked off of frost-covered porches, read over muffins and coffee, and used to line bird cages. I find that very interesting.
Second, it means that a small subset of the Baltimore Sun’s audience will actually read what I write to gain insight into matters technological, which I understand to be the general focus of my assignment. This might not seem like a problem at first, given my extensive background in technology, but such an assumption ignores my equally-extensive background in being an idiot. As I sit here writing this, in fact, I find myself unable to access the free Wi-Fi offered by the coffee shop I’m sitting in. Is it a problem, hypocrisy-wise, to be unable to submit your column about technology due to computer problems? Let’s hope not.
Finally, it means that someone will actually be paying me to write. I have no qualifications whatsoever that indicate that this would be a prudent investment. I haven’t taken any specialized classes to teach my how to write, nor have I produced any written works of note. (I’ll let you decide if this blog is notable or not.) The only reason to consider me a writer at all, it seems, is the fact that I occasionally write stuff. I guess it's like Robert Rodriguez says: if you want to be a filmmaker, don't waste time worrying about the title . Just call yourself a filmmaker and get on with making films.
So does this mark the beginning of a new career for our hero? Will Mr. Dierdorf finally break free of the chains that shackle him to the poisoned teat of our polluted economic machine, allowing him to spread the wings of his artistic ambitions and soar above the clouds of soullessness and despair?
If I continue to write sentences like that, definitely not. Even without the help of radically-mixed metaphors, I don’t see this as any kind of major life change. Although I could live off of the proceeds of this new column if I chose, such a life would require me to reside in a dumpster and eat whatever scraps I could find in the trash can at McDonald's. Thus, there are significant financial incentives to keep my job.
At this point, I’m just treating it as an extra blog entry per month, for which I’ll receive enough money to offset a portion of the staggering monthly bill I ring up at the iTunes Music Store. It’s an exciting opportunity, and it will be good experience, but I don’t want to make it out to be anything more than it is. (It’s not like I’m going to spend an entire blog entry yammering on about it or anything.) I pretty much backed in to this situation, so it’s certainly nothing to get cocky about.
As a matter of fact, any claim I might have to the title of Writer could instantly be erased with one quick glance at my novel. For the sake of the Baltimore Sun and its sterling reputation, I hope that none of this novel ever sees the light of day. If it gets out that the paper is affiliated with me professionally, they’d probably have to shut the place down.
At any rate, my first column was published today. I'm not wild about the title they chose, but that's OK. You may read it here:
Digital Drudgery
And if you know anyone in Baltimore, tell them to go buy a paper or two.
| NaNoWriMo Update | ||
| Total Word Count: | 30799 | |
| Daily Word Count: | 3101 | |
| % Complete: | 61.6% | |
| +/-: | -6601 words (-3.88 days) | |