Hello, would you mind if I claimed my power today?

"No worries if not!"

Before we begin this edition of I’VE GOT YOUR NEWS RIGHT HERE, PAL, let’s go over some housekeeping, shall we?

1. I started a film festival celebrating the actor Billy Zane. We are currently in the screening process, and will eventually be bringing it to a stage somewhere in Los Angeles. (Jurassic Park voice) Welcome…to the Billy Zane Film Festival (BZFF). We would love if you followed us!

2. I’ve turned on payments for this newsletter, but it’s staying public and free. If you want to become a paid subscriber, you can, and damn, you are my literal hero. But if not, that’s okay! This is just a part of…well, I’ll explain in a minute, actually. This is a different kind of news than I usually send you but equally as important! You have been warned!

Me, about to be vulnerable with you.

I was laid off from my longtime copywriting writing day job a few weeks ago. It was a shock and threw me back into the horrible swamp of scurrying to figure out logistics and bills, applying to jobs online, writing cover letters, updating my resume, the works. I did these things and continue to flop through them every day.

However, as time went on, I started to wonder what…in the damn hell I was doing, spending my days only doing this. Day after day, hour after hour, I applied to jobs online, and somewhere along the line—maybe after my ~15th rejection—something snapped.

And I got mad, dude.

Now, I know—it’s rough out there in Job Land right now, and 15 rejections isn’t a lot. I am aware that you just have to keep going, despite the fact that most of these “opportunities” seem to be training AI how to write and therefore eliminating future writing jobs (and I refuse to participate in THAT).

It wasn’t getting rejected that made me mad. It was…me. It was my own behavior. There was something missing in all of this. Something about this wasn’t making sense anymore. Something needed updating, like my brain was being run on an old software system, wired only for 1.) survival and 2.) Being Totally Panicked™.

My old job made sense. It made sense that I worked there! It was a good day job, it got me away from travel writing (hard to do in a pandemic!) and, at the time, it fit my life. It was remote, I worked with friends, it gave me time to figure out my own writing. They were kind and accommodating when my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and I could take time regularly to travel to be with her. 2023 was a bad time and I was able to do what I needed to do, process what I needed to process, and still…be employed. I will always be thankful for that.

But, as I sit here applying to jobs now, something…is wrong. Now, after ambiguously losing (and continuing to lose, every day) the most important woman in my life, my mom, to Alzheimer’s at the pace of a rollercoaster. Now, after working as a professional writer for all of my thirties and realizing I am confident in my abilities. Now, after there is—lmao—no more Twitter to validate every stupid sentence I ever say. I could go on.

Don’t get me wrong! If the right opportunity presented itself, and I found a job I really liked (and there’s been a few, fingers crossed!) then, sure, I’m down. Down 2 clown, baby! Employ me! I’d be fuckin’ grateful for that! I’ll certainly keep looking for that!

But…

A friend recently told me that I was at a fork in the road. I had two choices. Get another job and moonlight my own writing, not making any money on it probably, but doing what I’ve always done and Having a Nice Time.

Or forge a new path. Start freelancing, and for things I actually like and want to do and am good at. I moved to LA to work in the entertainment industry, like, fucking, lmao, literally everyone else, hahaha. But, at the end of the day, I could either keep doing my thing the way I’ve done it, always sitting on the sidelines, or…not.

So, uh. I’m choosing “not.” And I don’t know what that means right now but I am going to figure it out. Right now in this moment I guess it means, here’s my page of freelancing services.

It also means generally talking about my work, even if that makes me want to die. I’ve written two finished books! I’m working on another! I’m looking for representation! I HATE SAYING THIS OUT LOUD! I’m a screenwriter with several finished screenplays (TV and features)! They’re good! I HATE THIS SO MUCH LOL WHICH IS WHY I HAVE TO KEEP GOING! Tara and I are making a comic series/show together over at Scare Town USA! I have done so much that I never talk about or keep hidden! And for what? Why am I embarrassed? Why am I not throwing everything at everything? Why not me?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Writing this is my first step in claiming my own personal and creative power. It’s me saying, “Why not me?” even if I don’t exactly know the exact path forward right now. It’s me eating my own embrassment with a little spoon and sharing ~all of this~ with you. It’s keeping myself accountable and solidifying a promise to myself. And that promise is: I’m going to know my worth. And I’m going to try. Hard.

Trying is so embarrassing. That’s what I used to think. But then, like, lol, IS IT? Oh, you’re trying. So, what, you believe in yourself? That’s cute.

Who’s saying this? Nobody! Except maybe, lol, WELL…me.

There’s that skeleton manning the ship inside my brain again, telling me I’m a dumbass. My inner critic, who, when I address directly and with compassion, I find is actually just really fucking scared, trying to protect me, trying to stop me from getting hurt or rejected. So, he tells me I am a piece of shit who shouldn’t try. And to this, I say, hey man…I know you’re scared. But what have we got to lose? Who fucking cares?

The answer is literally nobody. NOBODY CARES, DUDE! And that’s a fucking great thing, actually. Nobody is looking at you. Nobody gives a hoot what you are doing, so, no, bitch, you are not embarrassing yourself! You’re just doing whatever!

NOBODY. CARES!

And yet… declaring that I will now be “knowing my worth” in the seemingly wild west world of trying to find a job feels…selfish? For some reason? Like, okay, usually, I’d be a “realist” about this kind of thing and be like, “Look, just work somewhere. Find a job. That’s what you gotta do. That’s what everyone does. What, you think you’re better than everyone else? So you’re holding out for a writing job at somewhere you like?”

But, uh, you know what? I don’t think that’s my own voice at all. I think it’s someone else, from before, something that got stuck in my head from the past. Because…I have never actually thought those things, LOL. In fact, historically, I’m the first to downplay literally everything that I do. So why am I saying this? Who am I talking to? You? No. You never said any of that either!

It’s just an old, bad message, wired in my brain from some other, younger time. It’s a fuckin’ ghost saying that. And it has no meaning anymore. It didn’t then and it doesn’t now. Maybe you have old wiring in your brain that keeps telling you old shit too, from god knows what. Maybe it’s so embedded into your brain that it feels like you’re the one saying it when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

So, I turned payments on this newsletter. You don’t have to pay. It’s still free. Thank you to those who pledged. It means a LOT!

I've started a film festival that I’m going to put on sometime this year in Los Angeles. I’ve put my freelancing services “out there.” I’ll keep trying to find a job, but I’m rearranging my priorities. Because, why not me? (sent with slam effect) And, frankly, dude, why not you? Think about it, bitch! Talk to you later.