You Gonna Eat That?

So, there was this one time that I was a restaurant reviewer.

Okay, so it was more than one time. Best gigs ever!

I got my start working the reception desk at a local alternative newspaper (N-O-T best gig ever), when the news editor gave me the hook-up (or took pity on my English/journalism background) and asked me to write a monthly restaurant review--with a dining budget!

What did I know about food at the time. Nada. No, seriously. Nada. And that was the brilliance of this particular editor. She didn't want a column about the chef's background or where the field greens were grown. She wanted me to describe the scene and if the food was good. That's all. Because isn't that all that really matters?

Sigh, you'd think so, but as any freelancer knows, it all depends who's doing the assigning.

Luckily, a bit of this legacy lives on in cyberworld. Here's just a small taste, of a long-closed restaurant:

http://www.providencephoenix.com/archive/food/97/04/10/ECLECTIC_GRILLE.html

Top Five Things I've Learned As A Freelance Writer

I recently had dinner with a new writer pal, who is fearlessly gearing up to make that uncertain leap from a traditional 9-5 to self-employment. As I recounted my story, now thirteen years in the making, it occurred to me that perhaps I did indeed have a couple of lessons under my belt. Or, probably more accurately, that glass o' riesling was making me believe. Regardless, behold:

The Top Five Things I've Learned as a Freelance Writer:

5.  You know that beloved thing called pay day? That slice of financial heaven, that makes all of your hard work worth the effort? In the freelance world, some days, weeks or even months will pass before it appears. The reasons for this are unpredictable and varied, ranging from professional drought to working for organizations who clearly think you must be independently wealthy. Regardless, freelancing is sort of like putting your money in the stock market. You've gotta be in for the long haul for it to, literally, pay off.

4.  Eventually, the money will come. And then it will go. And come. And go. Sense a pattern? I've learned that ebb and flow is all part of the game. And you've got to be comfortable with that. Mostly. But even when the funds have temporarily halted, the fun must go on. Sure, there will be times that you're feeling far less baller than you were, say two weeks ago. That's when its back to basics: free events, half-price appetizers, clearance racks, coupons and on-line sales. The trade-off? An incredible quality of life--which truly can't be bought. And no office politics. Horray!

3.  In the end, it's still all just business. Sometimes freelance writing feels sorta like a major league baseball team. Your pitching? No doubt top-notch. You're reliable. Consistent. You've stepped up for the team in clutch situations. But if the management changes, your role is not guaranteed. In the blink of an eye, your veteran fast ball has been replaced by a rookie knuckleballer, called up from the minors. Same game. Different styles. Nothing personal.

2.  Know that while you're busting your hump every single day, there will be peeps who think that freelance is code for serial loafer. Ditch 'em. Embrace the people who support you. There's no need to explain yourself. Ever.

1.  Never give up. Be the little engine that could--with a pen. It's not called the creative PROCESS for nothin'. Stick with it. Learn from your journey. Uncover your professional strengths. Hone your voice, then make it stronger. And above everything else, write on!

Take Me Out To The Ballgame!

Sometimes I just don't know what to write about.

No really. It's not like I've lost my fierce opinions or way with words, but occasionally, a topic sentence would be helpful. You know, like the ones you'd get in sixth grade.

Apparently, I'd prepared for days like these by purchasing "Idea Catcher: An Inspiring Journal for Writers." Only I had forgotten it was on my book shelf. Full disclosure: I am a Virgo. So while I'm not prepared to go all crazy filling up the blank pages with my slanted chicken scratch,  I have decided to occasionally choose a random prompt as a blog post.

Creative types. You should write along.  There will be no grading.

So here goes.

The prompt:  

While sitting at his desk unable to write, E.L. Doctorow began looking around the room and wondering about the original owners of his large Victorian home. His imaginings took him back to the turn of the century and led him to begin his best selling novel "Ragtime," which is set in that era.

My take:

Yeah. I know my house is some sort of special. It was built on the former site of the Messer Street Grounds, the home field of the minor league Providence Grays baseball team.

Take that new construction.

The park, which opened to incredible fanfare on May 1, 1878, was torn down only eleven years later, due to poor attendance. Once demoed, the vacant land was sold in subdivided plots, on which our home was erected, in 1890, literally where the grandstand once stood.

No, I have not heard any cheering.

Yet.

I'd like to think the people who initially built our awesome stone foundation and simple clapboard house were independent thinkers. That they were excited by the possibilities of settling in a neighborhood that was only just beginning to flourish around them. That they were energized by taking a risk in calling this untested area home. That they knew, deep in their souls, that their outside-the-box thinking would be rewarded. In big ways and small. Every single day.

Fast forward a hundred and twenty-two years and really, not much has changed.

ID'ing the Path to Success

Sometimes you get to connect the dots in life.  

And, sometimes, you gotta stand back and let, say, Stedman Graham, do it for you.

Dot Number One: Mr. Van Hunt

Last Saturday, Andre and I indulged in an outstanding show by one of our favs, Van Hunt. Who? Mmm-hmm. All part of the story. The short recap goes back to 2004, when he busted into the R&B mainstream, classified as a neo-soul artist. Sure, the brilliant songwriter was more than capable of being a comfortable crooner, but this was someone else's vision, not his. So he moved away from this established 'safe' sound, and the guaranteed fan base that came with it, to a more punky funky groove, which less people know about, but is hands down his best work yet.

Dot Number Two: Ty Taylor, lead singer for Vintage Trouble

The opening band, Vintage Trouble, didn't feel much like an opener. The guys were older. More polished. The lead singer? Complete showman. Dude was swiveling his hips. Dancing on the bar. And in an only in Rhode Island moment--during a urinal-side chat--much more interesting than a fireside--Andre found out Ty was from LA, via Jersey. But it wasn't for another two days before I figured out why he looked so familiar.

Back in 2005, Ty, then sportin' a mohawk, competed in an INXS reality show, on CBS, for the spot as the band's new lead singer. He didn't win and at the time, I remember feeling crushed for him because I thought he should have. Fast forward eight years and he's transformed himself in a mutton chops wearing, crazy cool James Brown song and dance machine. It all looked so comfortable, that I initially thought, mistakenly, this tight band was his life long passion.

Dot Number Three: Well, me

This occasionally frustrated freelance writer wonders and worries, where this professional ride is going. Sometimes, I just wants to catch a glimpse of the future to make sure the engine-that-could is indeed on the right track--and not about to get smoked at the top of the hill by an Acela.

The Connector

Well, who else would it be other than, Oprah's boyfriend, Stedman Graham, and his new book, Identity: Your Passport to Success. The gist? In order to find success, you've got to figure out who you really are. The process involves digging deep, tossing labels aside and not accepting any boxes that don't fit, even the ones you were born into. It's only after you peg down your true, authentic identity, that your limits will be lifted and true success will be achieved.

What I hadn't realized, until I saw Stedman hawking his book on CBS This Morning, was this was exactly the lesson of my weekend o' live music. Sure, I could see, and applaud, how both musicians had actively chosen to engage in this process of self-discovery, toss aside the safety nets of what brought them acclaim in the past and bask in the rewards of evolution. But what I hadn't realized, was just like on my journey, their muscling over to the other side, probably wasn't all that simple, pretty or without blood, sweat and tears. (The emotions, not the band.)

Simply put, I was privy to the end result, but not the journey. "It's all a process," said Stedman, from a studio in NYC. Argh. Someone's told me that once or twice, right,  Andre M. Brown?

And if you're true to yourself, the rest can't help but fall into place.

The Magic of Journals. Or Why I've Never Needed Counseling

Friday, December 26, 1980

Dear Diary,

Yesterday was fun! I got Merlin. Santa Claus bought him. I've been sick all today. I need flash bars.

Got to go.

-----------

For Christmas, when I was nine, someone gave me a Diary. Literally. That's what it said on the cotton candy pink vinyl cover, right beneath the illustration of a knock-off Holly Hobbie lying on her stomach in a pinafold dress, clutching a quill pen, while her cat napped beside her.

It should have read: Life Changer.

My supreme emotional health, mental resiliency and balance? No accident. No counseling. No prescriptive drugs. I give all the credit directly to where it belongs.

My journals.

After thirty plus years, eleven completed volumes, with a twelfth in progress, I've recorded a whole lot of amazing stuff. But I'm most proud of the intense self-reflection that's come from writing about the challenges of life, both big and small.

The act of taking a pen to paper provides an opportunity to slow time. It allows you to analyze each situation objectively, from every angle, not just your own. It provides a forum to dig deep to really figure out how you're feeling. It legitimizes your emotions. Journaling gives you a chance to return to the scene of the crime, take back your power and even rework the ending.

And once, you pour it all out on paper? That's when the real magic begins. Those emotions you've worked hard to explore? Turn the page and leave them in the past. Reflect, then move on. Say see-ya-later conflicts. Buh-bye to difficult personalities. Adios to anger, disappointment and sadness. In a few glorious strokes, they've all been, literally, written right out of your life.

Writing is a healer.

Write on.