Job Prospects? What Job Prospects?

Within the past two months, I have applied to a handful of assistant editor and associate editor positions at publishing companies. These are the types of positions that scare me, the ones at Penguin Random House and Amazon and Simon & Schuster in New York City--the ones that will inevitably be the best kind for me. I have heard nothing from them. The nearby Half-Priced Books has a full-time bookseller position that I interviewed for earlier this week. The pay starts at $8 an hour, with full benefits, and after six months it increases a certain percentage, which can continue to increase depending on performance. There are also quarterly bonuses and a Christmas bonus, and between 20-50% employee discounts on certain items in the store. Everyone there is a nerd, and I'd love to work around books again and talk to people about stories and movies every day. I am still waiting to hear back from them regarding either an acceptance or a request for a second interview with the store's manager. If I don't hear from them by the end of the week, I have to call.

I finally heard back from a nearby literary agent. I've been trying to get an unpaid internship with a Pittsburgh-based agency for... almost a year. Every season I message her, and every season she comes back saying that there are no slots available, and to try "next semester." There's something to be said about persistence, something that might get me a slot in the end, but I'm starting to feel as if I'm being strung along. And with the recent Black Swan ruling concerning internships, I don't know if I'll be able to get one with the literary agency in the end. It's basically a job that someone could be paid for, and because I'm not in school, they may not allow me to work there. However, it is an area about which I am not completely familiar, and so furthering knowledge might be reason enough to let me in. Regardless, if I get the HPB position, I'll probably be around town for a while yet. And because the store is open all the time, and the position is at least 40 hours a week, I might be able to not work in the store for a day and use it instead to work in the lit agency's office (which requires office work at least once a week and the rest is remote). But of course... there is no saying right now.

And the funny thing is that I can't really complain about all of this on Facebook because my friend Renee beat me to the punch months ago. She got her master's in... folklore or teaching or something like that. She wants to be a teacher, and so applied to a bunch of positions. A staggering amount. After a while, she had to return to work at Giant Eagle because she wasn't finding anything else. Finally, she got a community college position that she's thrilled about. But throughout her half-joking complaints of "No one wants me! Why don't you like me? No one wants to hire me? Etc.," we were all answering with "You're amazing! You'll find something! Surely someone will see how awesome you are." And now that I'm going through the same thing, I keep thinking of her posts and wanting to echo them. I won't, of course, but it's kind of amusing. The good thing is that if I don't get hired at HPB, I still have a year's worth of unemployment benefits as long as I continue to submit applications and resumes. So there's that.

I've started working on a couple new writing projects. Novels will always be in process, and I managed to think of a scene continuation in a story that I haven't thought about in years. And I'm slowly adding to my NaNoWriMo novel. But I've also started a short story that required research into mining canaries, and a nature writing piece about my grandmother and a little bird at my apartment (I think I've officially decided to call the piece "Old Bird" for the double meaning). The problem with the short story is finding plot for actual scenes instead of a monologue. And the problem with the essay is finding a theme with depth and universality, one that isn't "saccharine" or "sentimental," which many nonfiction literary magazines expressly forbid in calls for submissions. So I can't just reminisce about events--they have to mean something and all tie together. My teacher-friend from Chatham who cover Environmental and Nature Writing agreed to help out a little. She's insanely busy but sent information and samples regarding braided essays. I still have to read through them (because of trying to write a review that's due this week and read a book that's due very soon), but will eventually. Still, it's nice to know that teacher-friends will help out even if you're not a student anymore. :)

Judging a National Contest and Finding a Mini-Me

Again, I've encountered a situation that illustrates how hard work and chance encounters can create amazing opportunities.

To explain: I have two long-term friends from elementary school: Jess and Ethan. Jess I've known since Brownies (girl scouts) even though she went to a different elementary and middle school (but the same high school). Ethan I've known since elementary school. We've always been aware of each other, always nice to each other, but more acquaintances than friends. He's the kind of guy whom everyone liked. He always wears a smile. Always.

No, really. Always.

There's even a legend about him: One day around seventh or eighth grade, jock bullies were making fun of him for being so happy and smiling all the time, so they kept trying to find ways to get his smile to falter. Finally, they punched him in the gut. The smile faltered, but never left Ethan's face. His reaction, though one of pain, shocked the bullies and ever since then, they left him alone and showed him some respect.

I'm not sure how much of that is true. I should ask him.

Anyway...

Hard work. In my case, it was building a solid foundation through tiny actions that always, in some way, reinforced my potential and my future. Working for two campus lit mags, interning for a  publishing house, interning for a city magazine, earning a BA and MFA in writing, always reading, writing reviews, becoming a legit columnist, becoming an editorial assistant, becoming an unofficial review editor's assistant (that title doesn't exist, but it's basically when I'm doing until Weave can get a full-time review editor). Basically striving to maintain a successful literary career.

Chance encounters. After graduating from high school, Ethan and I lost touch until a few months ago (nearly 9 years later). We accepted friend requests on Facebook, exchanged comments... the typical stuff. Then a couple weeks ago around midnight, he randomly messages me by saying: "I know this is random, but..."

He proceeds to ask me if I'd be willing to judge the middle school level literature entries for the PTA Reflections Contest. For the national round. That alone made me freak out.

The PTA Reflections Program is a national program centered on developing a passion for art--be it traditional art, performance art, literature, or music composition. It's a BIG DEAL, but apparently not all schools participate in it. You win in your school, go on to a regional round, then a state round, and then a national round (if I have that order correct...). Then someone at the Library of Congress (I think) picks the grand prize winner.

I had won first prize for poetry during fourth grade. Just for my school, though. The poem was one I'd worked on for a few weeks and incorporated schools lessons about monarch butterflies into. It apparently made people cry. It wasn't as if I'd intended any emotion. I just wrote about the images in my head, as if the universe told me what to write and I dutifully typed everything down. The only purposeful part of it was the butterflies. So, riding on that win, I entered again that following year and didn't place. It was disappointing, but okay. That first place win the year before was the first time I'd won anything. But, alas, at some point over the subsequent years, we lost the winning poem. We have the trophy, the certificate of achievement, even the folder and the losing poem... It's heartbreaking that I can't remember the poem, there were no copies made, and I'll never see it again. Because, of course, digital copies weren't being archived until a number of years after fourth grade. And, apparently, the PTA is only allowed to keep the poem for three years and then it's scrapped.

It should be known that when we requested a copy during fifth or sixth grade, the organization wouldn't give it to me.... siting something about copyright that even at the time seemed wrong.

Well, Ethan knew about this because we'd talked about it a few weeks before he messaged me, when he posted a picture of all the other category submission CDs. So going off that and what little he knew about my literature life (just that I was into it), he asked me to judge.

It's as if everything came full circle with this contest.

I have 48 entries to go through by April 15. It seems like it should be more (one entry per state per grade), but apparently not all the entries were submitted. Odd... Basically, my top picks will go to that final person for the grand prize, national winner.

When he asked me to help him (because a position opened up that needed to be filled immediately), Ethan had no idea what I do during what is technically my spare time. He was astounded when I told him why April is a busy month for me: reviews, review editing, full-time job, literary event evenings, concerts, Weave submissions, and now contest submissions. Oh, and dancing lessons--that's another new development.

The process itself is intriguing. I have to look for raw talent. There's a rubric, of course--an educational assessment must always have a rubric... Interpretation of the theme, artistic merit and creative merit (which, for literature, is about the same thing anyway), and technical merit. I must be aware that many winners were picked based off context, not technical writing rules. They won't have a firm grasp on grammar, nor will they have a solid understanding and execution of craft. But talent is talent, and if something is freakin' amazing, then it doesn't matter how old that kid is. But because of the technical merit, the delivery can't be completely atrocious.

It is very interesting to hop between Weave submissions (wherein I'm looking for the best of the best) to contest submissions (wherein "best of the best" is a lot more lenient but still applicable.)

While going through submissions, I've already found a poem that blew me away and thus received a perfect score. And I found a different entrant, a girl, who's basically a mini-me. Her poem is the exact kind that I used to write in high school, when I'd sit at a computer during free time in a physics lab and let the universe tell me what to write. Lots of inspirational, abstract, and broad ideas. Corny. Amateurish. Not much thought involved. I made dozens upon dozens of those poems. And this girl wrote something that fits into that collection.

She won't win, but I posted on FB about how I want to hug her and provide reassuring words:

• Keep writing. 
• You'll  be great one day. 
• Don't give up. 
• I was just like you once. 

Well, Ethan saw that post and told me that he's planning to make a blog that enables judges to send messages to the students who submitted. And yes, it would be awesome to write that girl an official message of support and reassurance. 

So that's my big update of the month. I'm still in shock that it's happening.

Praised Questions from a Literary Evening with Paula McLain

Oh, where to begin? I really should take better care of this blog and update a day or so after things happen, to keep everything up to date and short. So instead of bombarding everyone with a massive update, let's do this one at a time.

A few weeks ago, Mike and I attended a Pittsburgh Arts and Lectures Literary Evening with Paula McLain.  The author is an adorable woman who lives nearby (Cleveland--in author speak, that's nearby) and managed to succeed when she had a moment of "inspiration meets desperation." Her personal history is astounding and at the time of the idea for The Paris Wife, she had quit teaching just to write the book. She said that if this book didn't work out (because the first one had flopped), then she would apply at Whole Foods. After listening to her talk about letter writing, personal language, and writing lifestyles, she actually persuaded Mike to read The Paris Wife, which is a rather feminist novel. He hasn't yet, but one day he might. It's at least on his list. Apparently her next big project is a book about Marie Currie, the announcement of which got all of our attentions. If she did this well with Hadley Richardson (Ernest Hemingway's first wife and main character of The Paris Wife), I can only imagine what she'll do with Marie.

At every event, we are allowed to stand up and ask a question. Mike and I always do this at these events. His question was about whether McLain had pieces of Hadley that were still part of her, whether Hadley's personality changed McLain's. She had already talked about falling in love with the character and immersing herself in this woman's language (which everyone can read because Ernest kept all their letters to each other and they're available at a library somewhere on the east coast). The question literally knocked McLain back a few steps. She said that a few pieces of Hadley's personality were there, and talked about the interaction and influence that comes from working so close with a character.

My question came next (not many people were standing by this point). I asked about whether she had intended to create a triangulation of events--how taking The Paris Wife, The Sun Also Rises, and A Moveable Feast reveals a central point of truth about what actually happened--and what she thinks about it if she hadn't intended that. It knocked her back again, and she praised the second balcony (general admission seating) for the questions, calling us the literary scholar balcony. She answered that she had intended something of the sort, kinda, and then chatted about it.

The problem with only reading one book by a favorable author is that when you stand in line for a signing, you don't know what to say. This is especially true when you say what you wanted to during the Q&A session. So in line, I said "Hi," to her again and thanked her for answering my question. I hope that one day, I'll meet her again... Maybe as equals. It would be nice to have an author friend who lives close.

Editorial assistant, and a stalled writing life

When compared to other writing friends (some of whom are currently at the AWP conference), I feel as if I am failing as a writer. They just seem to write more than I do, or do more literary activities than I do. This past week, in particular, has been especially hard because I've wanted to write, but my brain couldn't decide what to work on: first person present tense for my thesis story, third person past tense for my NaNoWriMo novel, or undecided POV and tense for a short story/novellette. The words are there, but they're trapped behind a brick wall and I can't even pry them out through the cracks. I've even slowed down reading books, except for a handful of thin poetry books from Autumn House Press. Even then, I needed a break from them after a few nights. 

But things aren't all dismal. I was recently appointed the editorial assistant for Weave magazine, a print literary magazine that concentrates on dark humor, magical realism, the strange and fantastical, realistic narratives in fiction and poetry, strong and well-developed characters as well as flawed ones, dynamic female characters, retellings of old stories and fairy tales and myths, the playing of language, women authors and characters, LGTBQ authors and characters, diversity, community... and... well... a bunch of really cool stuff. It seemed like an extremely good fit for me. I met the creator at a Bridges conference at Chatham recently and through talking with her and going through the application process, I got the job! It's non-paid but that's okay. On the literary panel at the conference, the panelists said that in order to maintain a job in publishing, you have to volunteer to read the slush piles and help out. Once you get a few of those jobs under your belt, along with some official internships, you'll be more likely to be accepted in a paying position elsewhere. 

I should get around 10 submissions a week. This week was 17 because about seven of them were pieces that had been already accepted. I had to read them in order to get a feel for what the comments on the side were like (in Submittable) and what stories they tend to accept. It will be interesting. I finished all the accepted ones tonight. Here's hoping I can read most of the pending submissions tomorrow to catch up. 

Also, Mike has read most of my thesis. He's taken to reading for an hour or so on Saturday mornings, when he has some quiet time while I get to sleep in. He's almost 3/4 of the way through. He hasn't said anything about it yet, though. But, this is a start. And he says that it might not be a habit, because you can't count something as a habit if it's only done two weeks in a row. Maybe three weeks. It is almost a push for me to continue working on either that story or the NaNo one so he has something else to continue of mine, but that might be hoping for too much. If it took him this long to read something relatively established... getting him to read a WIP is a long-shot, and he has so many other books to get to anyway. It would be nice if Saturday mornings became his official reading times, though.