***Scroll down for updates***
7:15 a.m. PT: Writing is something I’ve felt compelled (in a good way) to do most of my life. I never thought I’d be able to support myself with it. But I am. Well, I blog for a living. I blog for businesses. Blogging is writing, but it’s a different kind of writing. The ultimate goal is to make a living writing books and articles, not updating blogs.
Writing has always been a part of who I am, but it was still a hobby for many years. A few years ago, I managed to turn it into a profession. The thing about writing is that you never know when and how it will pay off. Feeling like you have no choice but to write certainly helps keep you motivated, payoff or not.
If you surfed here from Google looking for political news, I have none for you. But maybe you can get something out of this visit by answering two questions. Regular readers, I’d like to hear from you, too.
Perhaps you’re a musician struggling to make a living, but one who is compelled to make music whether or not it pays the bills. Or maybe you have a hobby that makes the 9-5 grind easier to take. Your job isn’t challenging enough, or it’s too stressful, or downright boring. Engaging in a hobby can keep you sane.
1) Is there something you feel you must do (teach, preach, write, draw, make music, etc.)?
2) If you could, would you try to make a career (part time or full time) doing it?
Update (5/9): Here’s what stinks about being a writer: pitching an idea to an editor, not hearing from the editor, reading a story based on your idea sometime later, and knowing the editor got the article idea from you. That’s the way it goes sometimes. Still stinks. 
But I’ll have a good weekend, anyway 
And I hope you do, too.
Update (12/19): The mid-life crisis topic’s a bit too depressing, eh? Sorry! I’m cheery as heck about my “crisis.” I’m working on interview questions for this guy. You may remember him from a little trilogy called “Lord of the Rings.” New movie coming out called “Day Zero.” And he has his own record label.
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Oh, the wheels of traditional publishing turn slowly…
For the past few months, I’ve immersed myself in digital music and digital media news. As I brainstorm and pitch what I hope are unique story ideas that will capture the attention of busy editors, I satisfy the writing urge on my blog. I write less on the blog because I’m trying to write more off the blog. But alas, the fruits of those off-blog efforts may not show up for weeks or months, if at all. The life of a writer…
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Can I get a witness? Can I get an Amen?
According to WorldNetDaily, PBS’s Tavis Smiley said that he didn’t issue a “no applause†rule for the recent Democratic presidential debate at Howard University because “black people are an emotional people. I know it wouldn’t have worked.â€
WND is trying to stir up controversy, no doubt, but I doubt Smiley’s remark would offend the average black person. Why not? Because it’s probably true. Actually, I think blacks simply are less restrained emotionally and feel “no shame” showing emotions.
There was a lot of clapping and verbal reactions among the mostly black audience of VIPs at the debate. In fact, there was clapping and verbal reactions among the black bloggers, including me (there was no “no applause” rule in the media room). I thought nothing of it at the time, but afterward, a white blogger said the debate “seemed like church†or something to that effect.
I thought about it for a few seconds and told him he was right. A black liberal blogger in the group agreed with me, and she and I also agreed that even if the audience had been comprised of black conservatives and black Republicans, it still would have “seemed like church.â€
It’s part of the “call and response†tradition of the black church and certain black music styles (although not every black person or black church does it). I went to a relatively conservative black church, with no whooping, hollering, or shouting, but when I’m listening to a particularly inspirational speaker in or outside church, I have to suppress the urge to verbally respond even in a pin-drop quiet room. Responding just seems natural to me. Is it some cultural genetic trait? Oops! Can’t talk about genetics. Anything but that. 
Also see “The Black Church,†a brief story…
(Photo: Campus Echo)
Addendum: You have to clarify everything around here. I’m not saying that blacks can’t or shouldn’t be expected to control themselves. I was agreeing with Smiley’s “blacks are emotional” statement with a twist: that blacks tend to be less restrained in showing emotions. Nothing more, nothing less. Blacks should not be held to lesser or lower standards.
I was a bit of a slacker in high school.
Education wasn’t stressed in my house, so I pretty much was on my own. Lacking motivation and encouragement to excel, I coasted along, doing only what was absolutely necessary to keep from failing.
Although I really liked my junior year journalism class, I did only what was required. Most of the time. High school journalism students were part of the newspaper staff by default, but I wasn’t really interested in writing stories about the school’s latest pep rally. I wanted to cover “hard” news like rape and murder. For a high school newspaper. Funny, in retrospect.
Miss G. made us keep a weekly journal, a task designed to help us get the creative juices flowing by writing two pages in a black and white composition notebook once a week. All we had to do was fill up a page — front and back — to get an A. Most of the time, I went over the quota, writing several pages worth of adolescent angst over crushes on football players and going to the prom. One time, I wrote this sprawling “short story” about a dream fantasy, where the object of my affection was the singer Prince, an obsession at the time. I kept it clean, but I used my imagination to transport the reader into the fantasy, and ended the story on an enigmatic note. To my 16-year-old mind, it was cool.
Miss G. thought so, too. “You’re a good writer, La Shawn,” she wrote in the margin, the first time anyone had ever told me that. Comments like, “This would make a good column – save it!” and “Excellent writing!” were sprinkled throughout other entries. Her encouragement gave me the confidence to experiment and open up in the entries.
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This post is a writing exercise, of sorts. I’m free-writing to warm up for all the other writing I have to do for clients. I’m also making an effort to do more off-blog writing. You’ve noticed that comments are closed on most posts. Monitoring comments, “unsticking” legit comments stuck in the spam filter, and dealing with trolls and contrarians was taking too much of my time. Yes, I miss some of you. I’ll open comments for select posts.
I’m having some painting done in my place, so I decided to work and blog (the same thing, actually) at a local coffee shop. I don’t get out like this during the day nearly enough. I’m in walking distance of two Starbucks and at least three other independent shops (with free wireless!), so here I am, blogging. In a coffee shop.
When I first arrived, I claimed a table and set up my equipment. Then I’m in line buying coffee and a croissant when I look over at my laptop and see a homeless-looking woman sitting at my table and touching my computer. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I get out of line, walk over to her and say, “Excuse me?â€
“Oh, baby, is this yours?â€
“Yes,†I say indignantly. She gets up and sits at a table across from me and stares at me, occasionally making grunting noises. As of this posting, she’s still looking at me. I’m unfazed by the glare, and as long as she’s not bothering anyone, the employees don’t seem too keen on kicking her out.
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