Where do you draw the line between writing for pleasure and writing for cash?
‘I don’t fucking care if you like it.’
Along with the rest of Tina Fey’s growing comedienne army, that Amy Poehler quote from ‘Bossypants’ stood out for me as one of the most liberating things I’d ever heard anyone say, never mind a woman trying to walk the razor-fine line of ‘being funny’ and ‘being cute’. In case you don’t know what I’m talking about, you need to read ‘Bossypants’, or at least how Amy’s expletive affirmation has become a T-shirt slogan in its own right.
Because here’s a question that’s been on my mind for the last couple of weeks….If you’re in an audience-facing, entertainment-based industry, how much should you care?
It’s difficult telling people when they ask how the new job, which I was quite keen to start, has panned out. It hasn’t.
Not at all.
A Freelancer’s Guide to Sleeping on the Job
“You could write a book about napping,” says David as we complete our evening walk around the neighbourhood- a habit that we might soon have to forego when winter saps away the day time.
He’s trying to be mock me, but Jesus, he’s right.
Back when I was a kid, there was a story about an old man, his son and a donkey. No, not, ‘Mr. Hands’, you sick fucks. I’m talking about some Aesop-fable, next-level, parable shit.
This post originally appeared on 22Seven’s blog. If you suck with money, download their app, read the funny blog posts, and for the love of the dark lord and all that is unholy, please stop buying Lotto tickets.
Here’s a confession: I tried freelancing before, back when I was still young enough to think I could get away with purple eye-liner and home-made haute couture. I tried and I failed- miserably. Between not knowing how to charge properly, to not knowing how to enforce those charges properly, I spent more time worrying about money than I did working for it.
Who doesn’t love a good whine? Or wine…? Whatever.
Social media has given us direct access to brands and companies, which in turn has provided an effective channel to air our grievances to those brands and companies. It also allows you to make nasty comments directly to celebrities, and to struggling, South African comedy bloggers you’ve never even met on satirical posts you don’t completely understand.
Because you’re an asshole.
So it’s been a while since I posted to this blog- although not for lack of trying… actually, no, no… it’s exactly for a lack of trying.
Between Adam’s ongoing recovery, and my own (until recently) crushing work load- and subsequent battle with the black dog- I just haven’t had the time, the energy or the inclination to waste your time with another ridiculous blog post.
It’s been a long week- and it’s nowhere near over yet… so this week’s post is going to be short and sweet, easily consumed, and built on the back of someone else’s efforts. It’s very capitalist that way.
I realised, while searching for new music and failing because “all this new stuff sounds like crap”, that I am getting old. Not just 2-day hangover and ‘what did I do to my back old’, but also mentally old. I am becoming (more) stubborn and inflexible, more set in my ways. Soon, it will be very difficult to teach this bitch any new tricks.
Recently, and in revolt of my own crippling fear of all things both ‘social’ and ‘media’ related, I started managing the social media communities for a new client.
As far as communities go, it’s a pretty good one. There are little to no pictures of scrotums (scrotums?…. scrota?… which is it?) uploaded to the wall, and in combination with the rest of the content I’m creating for the brand, it’s actually been quite fun to get back into watching the analytics of how each piece of content performs.