Archive for ◊ 2005 ◊

15 Dec 2005 Rediscovering the Passion
Author: Mridu Khullar |  Category: Uncategorized  | Tags: , , , , ,  | Leave a Comment

Phew.

That was a long break from blogging. It was also a long break from pretty much everything that’s familiar in life. After almost fifteen deadlines in the past month, I would have felt drained and completely off work, if I hadn’t been looking forward to the next leg of my journey as a writer. The part where I leave behind what is known and familiar and tread into new waters. Waters that while scary, are what I’ve been searching for.

Like many of you who’re reading this, I started out by reading online writing newsletters and freelance writing books that focused solely on one thing—how to make a living as a writer. How to earn money with your words. How to make this new-found career pay for itself. How to make six figures a year. And for a while, they were what I needed. I had loans. I had installments to pay. And I needed as much money as I could get. So I focused on my goal. Pay off the debts. Make a good monthly income. Make so-and-so amount of money per week, per month, per year. And I did. I continued to think one-track and take on any and every assignment that came my way. It wasn’t important if it was technology or health or an insane topic I knew nothing about. My goal was to pay off the debts. But when earlier this year, the debts were paid off, the income was steady and my income goals not only were achieved but exceeded, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I was free again. I was free to choose what I wanted to do with my writing and my life. But I didn’t have a clue. After being how-to health & fitness, technology writer for so long, I’d lost track of why I’d wanted to write in the first place. What I did know was that this wasn’t it.

So I did what any smart, independent, sulf-sufficient woman would have done. I asked mom.

And mom did what every smart mom does when faced with a life question she doesn’t know the answer to. She told me to search within myself. So I did some soul-searching and started looking for things that were missing in my life and that I badly wanted—exploration, travel, more friends, more adventure. Being stuck in an office fifteen hours a day wasn’t doing anything for me. I asked other writers for advice on how to go about finding travel assignments, and then figured I didn’t quite agree with their methods, so went in search of my own. And that’s when things started falling into place on their own. All of a sudden I met people who helped me move forward and gave me new insights and perspectives, I found publications that would print the kind of material I wanted to write and I came across ideas. On topics I hadn’t even thought to look at before.

Almost six months later, I’m halfway there. Halfway, because I haven’t fully figured out what I want yet. I’m still in the process of discovering myself and my career, but I now know that I no longer want to be how-to health & fitness writer. I no longer want to write what I wouldn’t want to read. And while I’ve been discovering what I don’t want, I’ve also been working on getting assignments that I do.

So, in the past month, I’ve let go of things. I finished up all the pending how-to assignments that I had on my plate, I’ve refused work that was coming my way that no longer fits into my scheme of things, and I’ve accepted low-paying work that is bringing me to new and fascinating people, helping me pen words that make a difference and discovering and exploring the world. I don’t know where or how the next paycheck is coming from, but I haven’t felt so in love with writing in years. It’s new, it’s fun, it’s fresh. And it may not be bringing in the cash right now, but it’s bringing in something that means so much more—personal satisfaction. And in life, there’s really nothing more important than that.

30 Sep 2005 Days of Desperation
Author: Mridu Khullar |  Category: Uncategorized  | Tags: , ,  | 17 Comments

A few weeks ago, I received a distressed e-mail from a woman, who needed to vent. She figured that since I’d been through the same phase two years ago, I would understand exactly what she was going through. She was right. I did. I understood her need to leave her low-paying job, her desire to be independent, her frustration at being unable to pursue the stories and writing that mattered to her and the constant job pressure and late nights at the office. I understood it. All of it. And as she went on to say that she’d had enough and would be quitting her job soon, I mentally cheered for this woman who was about to take the step that would forever change her life. I nodded along, happy for her, right until I came to the last line, “At least when I’m writing full-time, I won’t have any days of desperation.“

That was where she was wrong. Because as every full-time freelancer who isn’t trying to sell you a how-to book will tell you, you will have more days of desperation than you ever did in your day job. Some writers have weeks and months of desperation, but even that doesn’t make them stop writing. The reason you leave your job and become a full-time writer isn’t because you’re looking for less desperation, but because there’s something more powerful than all that– the need to communicate.

Even now, after three years of freelancing–most of it full-time–and making a good living at it, I have my days of desperation. I won’t lie to myself. I know that I will have days when the words will come to me so fast my fingers can’t catch up, and I will have days when opening up a blank page will make me want to cry. I will have days when I’ll be miserable enough to do something gravely stupid, and then snap out of my rut just as fast and spend the next thirty days trying to make it all better.

I have my days of desperation. And you will have yours.

You will have days of desperation when there’s only Rs 150 in your pocket and Rs 200 in the bank, and you know you’ll have to apply for another loan that’ll take two years to pay off.

You will have days of desperation when your manuscript comes back with red edit marks over it for the third time in two days, when your favorite essay gets published with a typo in the title, and when an editor repeatedly publishes your pieces while misspelling your name.

You will have days of desperation when you’re so isolated and lonely that you spend one hour on the phone with the ex-boyfriend who stalked you, and actually enjoy it.

You will have days of desperation when you feel like a stranger in your own world, where no one understands or cares about your need to write as opposed to getting a “real” job.

You will have days of desperation when you feel like a sell-out for writing fluff, a hack for not making enough money, and a loser for both.

You will have days of desperation when you have no work on your desk. And when you have so much that it’s the day of the deadline and you haven’t looked at the assignment sheet yet.

You will have days of desperation when you feel so dejected that you delete everything you’ve ever written from your computer, and then pray like mad that you have backups. You don’t.

You will have days of desperation when you don’t get out of bed for eight straight days because you’ve ruined your life, and you’ve done it all in the name of “art”– something even your fellow writers don’t understand.

I’ve been through all this and more. And I know there’s still plenty where that came from. This time though, I have backups.

But while the fad these days seems to be to say that some people are just not cut out to be freelancers, I don’t buy that one bit. There is no right or wrong way to be a writer, or a freelancer for that matter– that contradicts the whole definition of being a freelancer. Everyone should get a shot at living their dream, and there is no right or wrong way about that. Don’t think for a minute though, that you won’t feel frustrated or unappreciated or underpaid like you did in your day job. You will. Probably more so. But it’ll be worth every minute of it. Because even though you will have days of desperation, they will come bearing gifts.

I no longer fear my days of desperation. I’ve come to accept them, and sometimes be grateful for them. A lot of good things have come out of them. I’ve had many opportunities come my way through acts that other writers would term inherently stupid.

It was on a day of desperation that I rejected a high-paying assignment even though I had no work on my desk because I just didn’t feel like doing it. The editor came back with an offer of double the price and changed the direction of the piece.

It was on a day of desperation that frustrated by isolation I picked out some random people who’d emailed and invited them to talk on IM. I ended up making some of the closest friends I’ve ever had.

It was on a day of desperation that I finally put my accounts in order to apply for yet another loan and realized that I was making more money from my part-time freelancing than I was from my full-time job. I was able to quit my job the very next week.

And it was on a day of desperation that I decided I had to send something, anything, to Chicken Soup for the Soul, it being the deadline for their pre-teen anthology submissions. My essay “Clueless” was randomly picked off the computer and sent without as much as a thorough look, and was published a year later, fulfilling my Number One dream as a writer.

29 Sep 2005 What’s Age Got To Do With It?
Author: Mridu Khullar |  Category: Uncategorized  | Tags: , , ,  | Leave a Comment

Two e-mails I received recently:

“… I’m 16, but please don’t be turned off by my age. … I’m pretty sure my age will be a disadvantage in trying to get jobs, but I’m not planning on letting anyone know how old I am unless they ask.”

“I am 18 years of age and have just passed out of school… I often wonder, what is your age? I wish to know that particular fact because I want to convince myself that age doesn’t matter- it’s your diligence that brings paychecks and credits. Are you in your late 20s?).”

HELLO? Do I sound late-twenties to you? Uh, yeah, I guess I do. And until recently, I did it on purpose. Because like the above two writers, I thought that editors would barely give me a second look if I revealed that I was 23. The typical reaction I envisioned was “Pfft. Too young. What does she know?”

People online assume I’m much older than I really am. Compound that with the fact that I’ve been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul, Yahoo! and Writer’s Digest and they think I have years of experience behind me and would easily be in my thirties. If Reader’s Digest sent me an acceptance, I’m sure I’d add another ten online years. That’s ironic, since in reality, people often take one look at me and assume I’m just out of high school.

Recently though, I realized that I was modifying my voice to meet the requirements of my readership. I wasn’t writing as, well, me. I was faking it. My natural voice isn’t mature and sophisticated. I can be the most brash, rude, unsophisticated writer you’ve ever read. But you wouldn’t know that just based on my online persona.

And like me, many young writers end up thinking that they won’t be taken seriously if they reveal their true age. The result? They end up modifying their natural voices and start to sound like someone else. When they finally discover their own voice, they need to start all over, because now they’re not used to unpolishing their writing. When they do embrace their natural voices however, the words flow more freely and the thoughts are much more clear. My writing has improved tremendously since I’ve started giving a free reign to my voice. I no longer need to pretty up my stuff. And my best work has come to me that way… unedited, unafraid, no holds barred. Completely personal. Completely out there. It’s work I’m proud of. It’s work that says “me.”

If an editor doesn’t think that a 23-year old can handle writing for her publication, too bad. My first bit of advice for Writer No. 1 was to target age-appropriate markets. Markets that would be open to accepting ideas from 16-year olds, such as publications for teens. If you’re sixteen, you don’t want to target the parenting market anyway. But secondly, and most importantly, I realized that my age has never really come up. No editor has ever written to me to say, “Mridu, this idea’s great. How about you tell me how old you are, so that we can determine whether or not you’re fit to handle this.” Nope. All they look at is my writing. And if that sounds like something that fits into their publication, they give me the go-ahead.

The only time when this issue could come up would be:

a. If you’re below the legal age limit. I don’t know the rules in the US (I’m guessing there’s a tax form problem there), but in India, you get a check and be done with it. Doesn’t matter whether you’re 16 or 56.

b. Meeting the editor in person. I’d say go ahead and do it anyway, but if you’re uncomfortable with your age, then avoid it. I’ve only met a couple of my editors in person and have managed to do just fine. Even if you do go out and meet them, most editors will be impressed by your age, rather than turned off by it.

Most important though, is to maintain your identity. One very talented writer who comes to mind is 17-year-old Dallas Nicole Woodburn, who has published two books, in addition to having written for national magazines such as Family Circle, Writer’s Digest, Justine, Writing, Listen, Encounter and The Hudson Valley Literary Magazine. Editors have surely been taking her seriously since she wrote her first book while still in fifth grade.

Whether you’re too young or too old, you have perspectives and opinions that only you can offer. No one else can do it the way you can, and that is what makes your writing special. So whatever your age, let it show. You’ll be a better writer for it.

20 Sep 2005 Up Close and Personal
Author: Mridu Khullar |  Category: Uncategorized  | Tags: , , , ,  | Leave a Comment

I’ve often seen writers complain that their family members don’t like being named, identified or even mentioned in their work. I’ve always been unable to understand this, since luckily for me, my family and friends not only enjoy it when I write about them, but keep nudging me to do so even when I really, really don’t want to.

Take my brother for instance. The first time I set up my site, he looked (no, searched) around, stared at me weird and said “Yeah, but where’s my picture? Don’t you want the world to know that you have a handsome brother who’s very much available?” The boyfriend still thinks the piece I wrote about us is the best thing I’ve ever written (other than the dedication in my book, of course) and will proudly show it to anyone who hasn’t seen it twenty times already. My dad’s famous for bragging about his daughter-who-writes and handing out copies of my published articles to interested strangers (some of them I never get back, which is why he’s no longer allowed to do this) and several of my friends will fill in happily when I’m in desperate need of sources.

And you all know about my mom, don’t you? I’ve talked about her so many times in my newsletter editorials that she’s almost semi-famous now. (And yeah, she’s still hell-bent on making me learn how to cook! The-boyfriend-who-shall-not-be-named-even-though-you-know-his-name-anyway and she have been bonding. That’s never good.)

Of course, I’m a writer, so I take as much advantage of this fact as I can. Some of my best writing has come from my personal experiences, and I’ve been able to write about them freely and without reservations. Sometimes my family and friends like what I write, sometimes they’re embarrassed by it and sometimes they wonder if they’ll ever be able to show their faces in public again. But they don’t care what I write about them, coz they know I love ‘em anyway.

And even though Nikki, the best friend, is complaining now that the only reason I’ve agreed to spend the ten days before her wedding with her is because I’m doing a story on it (and she may be right about this), she’s secretly quite excited that her pictures and interview may make it to a glossy magazine. The mom’s probably reading this smugly and going “She wrote about me… again” and the brother’s shaking his head and thinking, “Why has she still not put up a picture?” (I’m on it, bro).

05 Sep 2005 To Tech Hell and Back
Author: Mridu Khullar |  Category: Uncategorized  | Tags: , ,  | Leave a Comment

So technology hasn’t been much of a friend lately. I’ve already been enduring three restarts a day on my computer but that seems minimalistic compared to the past week. Here’s the low-down on what I’ve been up to.

-> Some porn site figures that my name’s apparently a hot keyword, so they use it to push up their search engine rankings. Yeah, so now if you search for my name and make it to a few pages along the rankings, you’ll find my name happily linking to an adult page (sorry, editors!). Of course, I’ve politely been told to get over it because “hey, no one searches that far into the listings anyway,” and “you’re famous, babe.” Um, okay.

-> Some freako pretending to be a woman decides to give out my cell phone number on the Internet. What that effectively means is that I’m now getting obscene phone calls and text messages throughout the night from horny guys who want me to… oh, never mind.

-> The company that hosts my website has “network problems” and everything on their server crashes. My site’s down for two days, and so is this blog and my professional e-mail address.

-> My e-mail discovers that it has a life of its own and will do things in its own time. So I send it out one day, and it’ll reach the required destination four days later.

-> I install Google Talk (the next big thing don’tcha know?) and it takes over my computer (which hasn’t been doing too well as it is). So I can’t get anything with audio to work, including Media Player, Total Recorder or even background sounds for various programs. Three restarts later I’ve fixed the problem but have had to tell my friends that if they want to talk to me, they need to pick up the phone.

Sidebar: If you’ve written to me and haven’t heard from me, it’s not my fault. Really! I still have 37 more e-mails to go (and counting…), but in case it’s been over a week since you sent me something and you still haven’t heard back, give me a nudge. I’ll be quick to reply. Promise.

12 Aug 2005 Three Times Lucky or Three Times Stupid?
Author: Mridu Khullar |  Category: Uncategorized  | Tags: , , , ,  | Leave a Comment

I’m officially declaring that I will no longer work with start-ups (and if I do, hit me, will ya?). Here’s why:

Magazine No. 1: The editor loved not only my work, but me as well. So much so that she paid me in advance, offered me a regular column at three times their usual rates and sent a copy of the issue as soon as the magazine hit the stands. But I’m guessing she fell in love with too many other freelancers as well, because the magazine soon went out of business, and while my second check arrived as promised, I have yet to see the copy of the issue in which my brilliant personal essay appeared. (I’ve been told it looked stellar though.) The editor informed me that she sent the copy three times (sure, I believed her) but stopped replying to mails soon after (hmm… still trying to believe her).

Lesson Learned: Just because it starts well doesn’t mean it’ll end well.
Price Paid: First rights to piece gone, but don’t have the clip to show for it.
Signs that should have tipped me off:
(1) Yahoo e-mail address. (Screams unprofessional. Yes, I’m stupid– read the title of this post.)
(2) Three times their regular rate? Who am I– Madonna?
(3) The “we’re just regular ol’ housewives trying to make a difference” e-mail. (Refer to title again)

Magazine No. 2: This editor loved me as well (hey, I’m a lovable person!) and thought we’d work a lot together in the future. That’s of course two weeks before she disappeared into oblivion along with her website and my money! I was a little wiser though– I hadn’t agreed to her “write one article for free” condition. I said you either pay or you don’t. There’s no one-for-free business going on here.

Lesson Learned: When they ask you to do a piece for free and you refuse, they’ll usually get it for free anyway.
Price Paid: A couple hundred dollars.
Signs that should have tipped me off:
(1) Her mentioning that they no longer had a budget for freelancers (I should have started to push for my money immediately).
(2) Her asking me to write the first article for free.

Magazine No. 3: My most annoying experience so far. The editor was vague, dumb to the point of absurdity and did way too much to-and-fro on each idea. I felt like I was actually hand-holding her!

Lesson Learned: If it seems like they don’t have a clue what they’re doing, they probably don’t.
Price Paid: The jury’s still out on the payment and clip, but I’ve lost hours of time trying to communicate with this one.
Signs that should have tipped me off:
(1) No question ever answered directly. (Ever seen a psychiatrist at work– “And what do you think?”)
(2) Poor grammar and spelling (she’s supposed to be an editor!)
(3) Too much useless discussion on finalizing ideas (if the editor’s any good at what she does, she’ll be able to give you a direction in five minutes flat).

So there ya go, fellas. I’ve sacrificed my pride so you don’t have to. Read, learn and pass on the wisdom. (And if you’re in an especially giving mood, leave a comment. My shattered pride will thank you.)

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