Like a bimbo, only smaller. The diminutive form of a bimbo, if you will.
Please, please, please don't ever localize this. Thank you, company called "Bimbo."
Like a bimbo, only smaller. The diminutive form of a bimbo, if you will.
Please, please, please don't ever localize this. Thank you, company called "Bimbo."
Image credit: Lindsey Look
Here's what my life as a writer is like! I sit on my writing throne all day, penning masterpieces with my quill, all while dressed fashionably for battle, my loyal feline by my side!
Ah, nope. That's why they call it "fantasy."
The truth is, I'm sweating blood and crying tears doing this. Blood. Sweat. Tears. Lots of tears, actually... But hey. I'm doing it! I've been writing for 20+ years, I paid a Seattle mortgage on my freelance income, and I have an enviable stack of byline credits.
And here's how you can make it, too. That is, as long as you get the fantasy version of a writer's life out of your head. Here, I'll give you some new images to replace it with. And look! I've even organized this into a listicle!
#1 Work Your Personal Network
Photo credit: Margie Bissainthe
Way before Facebook, LinkedIn, or Twitter existed, successful writers worked their networks. First and foremost, this means being the kind of person people like working with and know they can count on to get the job done.
For me, this also meant always making sure I kept in touch with people, letting them know what I'm up to, and when I needed work, I told them I was available. Some of my best gigs have come from people I’ve known professionally and become friends with. When I freelanced, I sent all my clients links to an online survey where they could brag about my work. Then I reported back the results and blurbed them on my materials.
#2 Diversify Your Skills
These days, it's not enough that you can write creatively. You should also be a good public speaker, a crackerjack editor, know interactive media, or be able to train and manage people well. It's best to do all of these things, and more.
I've never got a job on the basis of my creative writing MFA alone - but in combination with other credentials, it looks good. Some of my best experiences came early in my career, when I was in college working in politics, where I wrote brochures, press releases, letters to the editor, and newspaper columns as well as learned to give speeches and manage and motivate people.
#3 Diversify Your Portfolio
Especially if you’re freelancing, it's next to impossible to make a living off one thing these days. As a freelancer, I basically subsidized my really fun work, like doing author interviews, with well-paying gigs, like editing financial services reports. But even this work can be creative – in the above example, I distilled a very analytical idea down to “growing pains” in the financial services industry. In that world, there aren’t many creative writers, so if you can do this for them, you’re a god, and they’ll pay you well.
You should also expand your notion of what "writing" means to you. It's possible that editing, which often involves a fair amount of rewriting, could make you perfectly happy. In the game biz, I'm called on to critique game stories and rewrite rough translations from another language, and that gets pretty darn close. In large projects like TV shows and games, writers aren't usually coming up with the original story line anyway but rather writing for a specfic character or punching up the dialogue, as Joss Whedon did on the TV show "Roseanne" early in his career.
#4 Stop Thinking of Your Writing As Art
If you want to earn a living, you need to think about your writing as a business. Otherwise, it's a hobby, or a sideline. Even Shakespeare made his writing into a business. That’s part of why we’re still thrilling to his stories today.
At Big Fish, where I work most of the week, my colleagues and I get very passionate about our games, and when we get into intense discussions, it's always valuable for us to bring it back to the hard data we have about which games sell and why. If the games don't sell, we won't have the privilege of sitting around talking about them for much longer.
#5 Don't Write for Free
It’s OK to work for free when you’re in college, or just starting out, so you can get the clips. But once you’ve got a portfolio, stop working for free! If you write for free, you are not a writer; you're a volunteer. There’s nothing wrong with that, of course. But if your goal is to make a living as a writer, you should not give it away for free. And you shouldn't ask others to write for free, either. Here on the blog, as you may have noticed, I've got ads (shocking, I know). I hope you'll click on them, as they're funding the article you're reading right now.
#6 Get Cozy with Rejection
Don't get discouraged by rejection. Cozy up to it. Friend it on Facebook. Cuddle up with it at night. You and rejection will be seeing a lot of each other.
Here's an example of why.
Newspaper Closures Since 2007
Please see www.newspaperlayoffs.com for more information. Used with permission.
The collapse/revolution/massive transition - whatever you want to call it - of the book publishing and journalism industries is out of your control. So don't take it to heart if you’re not a lightning, overnight success story. You’re competing with out-of-work, Pulitzer-prize-winning writers with a lot more experience and credentials.
Look for the opportunities: When the journalism door closed for me, another one opened. I was recruited to work in games, and unlike some writers, I didn't think I was too good for games. I've never thought I was too good for any writing job, which is probably why I've never been out of work. And truthfully, working in games has tapped my passion for both story and interactivity in a way few other industries could.
But I've seen my share of layoffs in this industry as well, which brings me back to the original point: Get cozy with rejection! There are NO guarantees, anywhere.
Sometimes, a rejection can even make your day. Here's one I received after querying an editor on my children's picture book manuscript:
“I've had a chance to review MOON GIRL and while I think it's unique, dark, and quite whimsical, I am concerned that it would be a hard sell for us. It reads a lot like Neil Gaiman's children's books but those are difficult to compare with given his known status…”
She had me at "unique."
#7 Don't Be a Job-Hunting Jerk
Respect and reciprocity are the names of the game. Network like a human being, not a selfish twit.
Be solicitous with people's time - take them to coffee, buy them lunch. Send a thank you letter afterward. Remember them - if there's any opportunity to do them a good turn, do it! Do your research and ask good questions. Don't flub it in the interview stages - take it seriously. Dress up, arrive early, shake hands, speak well, do your homework on the company and the games or products they make or services they provide.
You can play the first hour of many of Big Fish games for free online. But when I was a hiring manager, I had people apply for jobs who clearly hadn't played any of our games.
#8 Learn to Collaborate with Others
No woman is an island. Almost every project you write for will be created by committee, and it’ll be a better project if you know how to play well with others.
I used to make my students do group projects when I was teaching, and they always complained. Now I feel vindicated. Forget bylines. Your name for two seconds in the rolling credits will give you a high, but it’ll be a different one than getting a book published. Not “I did this myself,” but “Wow, look what we all made happen!”
#9 Don't Think You're Too Good for Entry-Level
Photo credit: Anna Rix
Despite having had a great resume post-college that included service as the chair of Missouri's largest environmental organization and a prestigious internship in D.C., not to mention a portfolio of clips, there was a recession going on in 1994 when I graduated, so the only job I could find was as a secretary. But I made the best of it and was promoted in six months to a job that involved a bit more writing.
In games, you often start out in customer support and/or as a game tester. One of my team members spent 2.5 yrs as a tester before we hired her as an Assoc Narrative Designer. Another worked on a team with me at Nintendo. We hired them as much for their editing skills as for their creative writing backgrounds.
#10 Consume What You Produce
Don't just expect everyone to consume your words. You must also be a consumer of words.
If you want to write books, make sure you're buying and reading a lot of them. If you want to play games, you better play them. We can spot a poser a mile away. If you don't really love them yourself, how do you expect to make your audience love them?
Here, you can start with my book. :) Why not? You must like my writing, since you made it this far...
If games are more your thing, check out the ones you can download from Big Fish. Happy writing!
Note: This article grew out of a presentation I gave to the creative writing program students at Seattle University in the fall of 2013.
My Interview with David Michael Ramirez II, the Breakout Translator of Yoshinori Henguchi's Poetry
Yoshinori Henguchi is the author of Lizard Telepathy, Fox Telepathy, published in 2014 by Seattle indie publisher Chin Music Press. Henguchi founded Gallery Iris in Osaka, Japan and regularly exhibits photography and poetry. His poetry collection, WMMWWMWWWMWMMWMWW, was published under the imprint nobodyhurts. He was also a 2006 winner of the Canon Corporation New Cosmos of Photography Award. David Michael Ramirez II translated Lizard Telepathy, Fox Telepathy into English, a passionate process that transpired over many years, after he met Henguchi at a gallery opening in Osaka in 2008 and made it his mission to bring the poet's work to an English audience.
Lisa Brunette: Henguchi employs repetition to an incredible degree in this collection. Is repetition more tolerable/soothing in Japanese culture? Or would you say it's the same as English?
David Ramirez: It's unnatural–unnatural to the point of distinction, and maybe distraction. But it allows for a kind of psychological effect reminiscent of ellipses and gives an overall baseline for other sensations to contrast with. When you get done reading, if you're not paying attention, you're not sure what you just read, and the repetitive part eventually recedes, and the objects in the poems have a chance to stand out, whether they're part of the repetitive statement or nestled alongside it. There's also the question of just how much our own psychological existence is repetition, and how much is change. I guess I'd hope to liken Henguchi's repetition to a syncopated ideaphoria.
Lisa: I could see that. I'm impressed even that the spacing is preserved, the gaps and pauses in the prose that give the lines internal breath. By the way, it's lovely to look at the Japanese typography. I'm struck by the beauty of the characters, which retain their symbolic origins, in contrast to English, which is purely a signifier.
David: Preserving the gaps and pauses during the design process was an incredible headache. There were revisions made to the original as we were editing, and as the translator and one of many proofreaders and editors, I would not be notified about changes beforehand, so I would discover them after finalizing the English, feel like screaming, and then calm down and write an email to revise the master document, which I didn't have access to. We communicated design corrections through emails with color highlights, footnotes to word docs, and a rare Skype to Tokyo. Eventually we came up with a system to preserve and localize the gaps in English. This felt like a major achievement.
Lisa: I note the first poem in the collection, "Nihongo," is about the Japanese language itself. Can you talk about the decision to foreground that?
David: There are so many challenges in translation, and bringing the reader into a language they're not familiar with, in a language that they are familiar with, was the goal of the work. "Nihongo" does that by practically giving the language, Nihongo (Japanese), a personality, a dynamic, and a sense of being something that you grapple with. It's a feat even in the original Japanese, and torques the minds of many traditional poetry fans. I was even asked by one reader, "What's he trying to do! Is he trying to destroy Japanese?" and this is not the case, far from it in fact, but riding that line between destroying language and breathing life into it was what made it contemporary.
Lisa: So many of Henguchi's observations are, well, Tweetable--you'll notice I've been quoting him on Twitter as I've made my way through the work. For example, "In our house grandfather lit grandmother's cigar and passed it to her. Women smoke/men light." I'm curious about what initially attracted you to his work, and if it was this distilled observational wisdom of his.
David: Oh, boy, this is my favorite topic. It was really Henguchi's love of word and passion for expression that popped off the page and grabbed me. His line, "I want to burn Nihongo and turn it into smoke" got me hooked. A language full of convention such as Japanese is not something you're supposed to "smoke" or "burn," but I've certainly felt both smoked and burned by language, so turning it inside out was exactly the kind of near-hallucinogenic experience I was searching for in literature.
That, and that the subtle messaging was not singularly nihilistic. It doesn't seems to revel in failure or rage, but seems to skip to a beat that feels contemporary. I guess you could say that it was fast enough, flexible enough, and has that "something" that turns language inside out and doesn't flinch; that's what hooked me. It was love at first sight. There's also his ability to really speak about Japan in a way that doesn't lose cultural relevance but doesn't over-romanticize it either.
Lisa: Henguchi reminds me of the L=A=N=G=U=A=G=E poets, the way that he is calling attention to the pleasures and pitfalls of language itself. His prose poems in particular called to mind Lyn Hejinian's autobiography My Life, both for the examination of language and the examination of self, as Lizard Telepathy is full of autobiographical references, which even if they aren't truly autobiographical have that feel. I also think of the work of Seattle's own Stacey Levine, and I note that Gertrude Stein's Tender Buttons was helpful to you in this translation process. Who does Henguchi cite as his own influences?
David: The Language Poets are an excellent analogue to Henguchi's poems. His method for writing does start with sight and sound. The one thing he does feel confident about is that regardless of convention or lack of it, Henguchi wants his poems to be fun. That, I abide by. If you can re-invent fun, you've got something.
As for influences, Henguchi hasn't recognized a contemporary movement or artistic influences, and has recently found poetry to be one of his main creative impulses. He's interested in how he is intrinsically indebted to being born as a human and the life that this brings. Stylistically, he feels a kinship to photographers Araki Yoshinobu, Kyoichi Tsuzuki, and painter Shinro Ohtake. In Japan he's been asked about connections between his artwork, Japanese hip-hop culture, and the work of Miranda July and Harmony Korine. Again, more than anything, he's cognizant that because of the essential, shared human condition, all artwork is related, and every similarity is fair game.
For my part I see Henguchi as a poet who's developed something special at the right time, part of a Japanese renaissance that's just beginning to come out. The older generation who made their waves in the 60s and 70s is just beginning to pass the torch. And I feel Henguchi's work is part of sloughing off the past. I was lucky to meet with a scholar at the UW who pointed out that due to the flexibility and ubiquity of the Internet we're seeing linguistic stylization that hasn't been part of the average writer's repertoire since the early 19th century.
Lisa: Part of Henguchi's project seems to be acknowledging what can and can't be captured, whether in photography or writing. In "Gone Insane," for example, there's a stanza that begins, "Can meet when we can can't meet when we can't." The stanza ends with, "I don't even catch a glimpse of that boy." What are your thoughts on this?
David: My thoughts on this are - exactly! You got it. That's the most wonderful thing I can say about his poems, that they leave you with a sense of loss and fulfillment at the same time. In his writing Henguchi is not a nihilist–but–there is the sense that we've all experienced losing something important. But even with loss and destruction, our pain is something rare and beautiful, admirable, and a source of strength and a sign of life. That's what drew me to Henguchi, and that loss is there and life is full of it, but we are still alive, and hungry, and passionate, even in a whirlwind of sight and sound where we can't catch everything no matter how hard we try. Maybe every once in a while we catch the wind in our sails, and maybe we don't know exactly just what that wind is, but it's there.