Not much going on nowadays. I think the denziens and lower city dwellers of Los Angeles have receeded into the dark places, driven in by rain. I'm hold up too, listening to the forward march of onrushing showers, contemplating my navel.
I'm also trying to drum up new and exciting freelance opportunities. As much as I like writing and working I utterly despise looking for the work. A never-ending proccess of tree shaking, glad-handing and bullshitting. Add on top of that an extra layer of bullshit as bullshitters try to bullshit a bullshitter. You'd be amazed at how many Great Opportunities are offered in Los Angeles by Famous People (or people who claim to know Famous People) who, despite their Fame, cannot seem to find their checkbook. But no worries when they become even more Famous, or Wealthy they won't Forget You. Wink, wink, nudge nudge.
Amazingly people by that line of horse crap like crack addicts buy baking soda. Hell, even I did for the first year or so I was here.
Wading through all of that you have the people that hire you on sight, cut you a check, and send you on your merry quest to do some arcane work in the blackshop of the wordsmith. I love these people. No guff, no guile, no interviews. They know what they want, know or hope you can do it, money in hand and out the door. No fuss, no muss, no foreplay.
Then you have the interviews. Pitchs, interviews, sit-downs, lunchs, dinners, coffees...All the same thing under a different monicker. I wonder if half the time the people that are bringing you in for interviews are simply using you as a sounded board for some half-cocked idea. They like the sound of your voice bouncing off you skull for the better part of an hour.
I am not really a fan of interviews. Is anyone? Some sick, strange bastard out there, clothed in a JCPenny suit and clip-on tie, resume in hand like a gunslinger who walked into Gary Cooper's town, beady eyes a-light as he spouts of words like pro-active and team player. Some sick strange genetic monster who likes the who dog and pony show? Sure there is. Once heard tell that there was a sexual fetish for everyone.I'm sure the job interview is on it somewhere.
The interview proccess seems so pointless for someone of my arcane craft. We're writers, we write. Don't have to love us, or be a part of your team, or join the office sing-along of the German National Anthem once a week at the Coffeeklatsch Bund Rally. Nope, we solely exist to put words onto paper. You should know right away whether you want to hire a writer or not by reading what he wrote.
There is nothing as esoteric as determining whether or not a person is adept at shoveling money into off shore accounts in the Bahamas on Monday and going golfing with the Board of Directors on Thursday. Nothing that complex. A writer's work is pornographic. On display for the world to see. A giant hairy ass for the world to admire or scorn.
So why bother with an interview. God knows. The common excuse is to see how "you work with people". As if I am going to go into a manic state on morning revved on Diet Dr. Pepper and reds, starting dancing about the office, defecating on the IT department's snack table, mumbling and stumbling about like the homeless Mexican man downtown singing the first bar of 'Mickey' over and over. All that could happen if this person isn't convinced that we can "work together".
Personally my belief is that people out there, stuck in office, have absolutely no artistic taste whatsoever. Perhaps no discernment as to what bad or good writing is, or even what moderately correct English is. Muddling through the interview proccess they'll hopefully hit upon what it is that make a writer good or not.
Then you have the ones that are tragically inept. So much so that you wonder how the managed the complex job of putting both feet inside their pants and pull them up to their waist. These people must get thirty responses and invite everyone down for an interview, even the poor bastard who simply scratched out an email that read, 'WRITIN' GOODE!'
Being a refugee from the world of Temp Agencies I remember how the ice cold bitches that ran the place would always drill into their victims how to be prepared for The interivew. Like an arcane ritual to summon a demon, one wrong move in the ritual and Hell would open, and the world would end. Does anyone have the same advice for the employer? Half the interviews I've attended the person conducting them seemed utterly incapable, and worse had no clue who he was interviewing. I dare say I could've walked through the door, re-introduced myself as Dax Barkley, and do the whole thing over again.
The worst of these interviews came not to long ago when
Groovetickets was seeking a new writer (the old one having died, horrible incident involving a potential illegal professional rave competitition -- speak nothing further of it, except to say, He Got Served), part time, to post write up's of coming DJs on their site. Not brain surgery.
Arriving a tad early to a run down loft on the border between Los Angeles and Pasadena the squat, tossled haired employer was crashed out on a couch with another cherry-face dancer wannabe writer. I waited my turn as the littler Raver next to me cried on the phone to her bank about one thing or another. I was already uncomfortable in this crowd of Holdovers from the Dot Com era. All that was missing was the stock options turned place-settings.
My turn was up. I had bought the dux regur stack of clippings and references. The Dude doing the interview was a complete loser. I relaxed, he squirmed in place, he cracked lame jokes and had this nasal whistle when he talked, he took a look at my references and said, "Wow, people sure do like working with you!" Yeah, gee, thanks.
To compound this already stupid situation the dude had lost my resume and barely knew who I was. If you are going to waste my time give me the credit of at least acknolwedging and knowing who I am.At that point I knew it wasn't going to work. I yammered and stammered, stared into his bloody gimp eye, tried to get out of this mess as quick as possible.
Turns out when Groovetickets advertised for a Writer/Editor what they really wanted as a Sales' Guy who had some Advertising background. God knows how much time they wasted trying to figure this out.
They certainly wasted mine. However I'll do it again and again and again, chasing work hoping to create. Life of a writer.
Keep it Sexy, America.
