Are You Always an Asshole or Is It Just When You’re Online?

A couple months ago I joined a few groups on Linked In as a way to promote my work, get to know some other freelance writers (networking!), and possibly connect with people who (I’ve been told) frequent those groups looking for writers to hire.

I wanted to make sure I was in the right places if I was going to spend time in online communities chatting. It needed to be worth my while because I wanted to give the most benefit to the most people by sharing my experiences.

Weeding down to the basic groups that applied to my current position seemed like a smart idea. Groups geared toward freelancers, journalists, writers, etc. Everything was going great.

That is, until I started posting helpful articles.

Because as soon as I started sharing my experiences ofpersonal development as a freelance writer, the jack-assery started to fly.

Of course I want people to hire me but what I was sharing had little if nothing to do with asking people to do that. Quite the contrary, I really just wanted to help other writers. Because we’re all in this together even if what we do is a solopreneur enterprise most of the time.

I wanted to help struggling freelance writers see that it was okay to struggle, that it was normal to have questions. And then I wanted to help by giving my story of breaking into this industry as personal accounting for the answers to those questions.

But apparently some people don’t really want answers. Apparently many of the people in these groups spend little or no time reading the content and show up to do nothing more than attack the poster. It isn’t just my links, I’m seeing these same people belittle everything that’s posted.

They like to battle the advice, not in a challenging way that opens debate or engaging conversation. No. They simply set out to be mean.

And I just do not get it.

The reason it makes no sense is because those same people pose questions and they appear to be looking for answers. They ask how to break in, what kinds of things you need to do to break in, how to be a better writer. Then they stomp all over the people who provide those answers because it appears the advice wasn’t what they wanted to hear.

Sorry to disappoint but there is no magic formula to get rich overnight as a writer. Sorry if you didn’t want to hear that you’d actually have to work for a living. And work hard. That there are things you need to learn how to do before attempting to freelance for income online.

Now I’m not saying I think I have all the answers, I’m not that egocentric, but I have been doing this for a while, have found some clients and made some decent money from my efforts. I thought that’s what they wanted to know how to do too. You know, since they asked.

But apparently their main goal is to waste their own time and everyone else’s by being an asshole. I’m just glad I don’t have to live with these people. If that’s what you’re like online is that what you’re like in life? Yikes.

Maybe you should take some of that snark and channel it into a book or a blog post. Perhaps that’s your voice and you’ll find a few freelance clients who love to pay combative people who already have all the answers to the questions they asked in the first place.

There’s my free advice of the day to all the trolls who find it fun to battle those who came before you - Use your aggression in a more productive way.

Though I highly doubt you’ll take the advice if past history is any indication.

Go ahead, bring on the evil comments. I can take it because in the end my skin is thick enough to shake my head and sigh. Then smile because I’ll be helping the writers who want the help and both of us will be padding our bank accounts with client work that pays while you waste hours you could have been writing for money by being an evil online troll.

Sucks to be you.

I won’t stop posting my advice and suggestions because there have been a few people who have seemed to genuinely benefit from what I’m putting out there. But I won’t engage with people who feel it’s their duty to be a tool just to look like a big shot.

This isn’t grade school people, it’s the internet. Get over yourself.

And now I’m going to get over myself and get back to doing what I do for a living. Writing for writers who want to make money. Just like me.

• • •

I'm Jenn, a Content Marketing Strategist, Blogger for hire and owner of Copywrite That. I can write your blog posts, articles, emails, newsletters, web copy and more. Contact me today: info[at]copywritethat[dot]com

Pretty Vacant…

Being a Writer, being a rock star…what’s the difference really? For me, I’m not sure there is much of a difference. We’re both out there workin’ it to try to sell some kind of image or piece of work that we poured a big chunk of our heart and soul into creating. The sweat, tears, frustrations, celebrations, nights out, nights in, flexing of that creative muscle all blend into one carefully crafted piece of artistic expression.

Ugh, even writing that last line kind of makes me want to gag it sounds so cheezy (though it’s true). Which makes me notice one very important fact.

This week I’m starting to feel like the hotel trashing, punk rock type.

I’ve got a deep desire to toss television sets off of tenth story balconies and its starting to boil. I have to do something with it before it blows. Before I go and throw something, anything, that is.

I’m at the part of my manuscript where I’m trying to break through the plastic wrap that’s stretched across the train tracks of word count. I’m pushing and pushing at what feels like full steam but it seems the wrap is too thick to break through. It’s like I’m fighting the man.

Facing that makes me want to do one of two things. Either give up entirely…or say fuck it, I will write that scene and to hell with you if you think I can’t. That’s right bitch. You heard me.

Don’t I sound all gangsta and shit?

Did I spell gangsta correctly?

It pretty much all comes down to this - even though I would personally never do what they’re about to do, I’m not my characters. They would do whatever it is. That’s the story that needs to be told. I can’t let my personal feelings interfere with their personalities. Not everyone is the same. My character in this most recent manuscript is similar to me in only the following four ways – she’s late thirties, married, is a writer, and lives in Phoenix.

But she’s like a rock star – up all night, globe-trotting, moving and shaking quick, quick, quick! Well she has to be (details on that later) and I have no choice but to tell exactly what she needs me to tell. This isn’t my memoir, mofos, if I’m going to tell someone else’s story then I can’t let my own infiltrate the pages.

But I’ve also come to learn that I’m also just like a punk rocker right now. Well…sort of.

• I am in dire need of copious gallons of certain substances just to keep going.
• I would, of course, be referring to coffee.
• There are days when I’m cool while other days I say fuck the man and skip my gig on purpose just to screw with the system.
• When the faucet’s off you’ll find me strung out on almonds and blueberries, sitting on my sofa all day long, watching the Lifetime Movie Network. This is no different from days where I’m inspired, of course. On those days I have a laptop in my lap so I click away for eight hours with granola and LMN.
• My co-workers have been known to kick things, break stuff, and/or punch people.
• Of course all my co-workers are located in my head so I can pretty much let them run amok without real things, stuff or people being kicked, broken or punched. But it’s still fun even when it’s not real.
• I go to bed and wake up at ungodly hours.
• Lately I’ve been known to fall asleep at 10PM and wake up before 6AM. Watch out, I’m crazy like that. I may even stay awake until eleven. Lock up anyone you’re close to…I’m obviously way out of control.
• Sometimes I go almost full days without eating and rely on drugs to get me through.
• Caffeine and nicotine kept me alive over the Christmas seasons in the early nineties while working at Victoria’s Secret , so its sure to be enough now too, right? Well, that and the granola.
• I portray the image of a crazy as hell fantasy world because I live it, yo.
• All day long I have to allow my mind to embrace an entirely different life so I can accurately express the story my characters are trying to tell. It’s like being an actor without a camera. That shit can be exhausting.
• I’ve been known to trash a room or two in my day.
• You should see how much dust there is on my entertainment center and seriously, there isn’t a single dish in the cabinet because they’re all either clean in the dishwasher or dirty beside the sink waiting for the dishwasher to be emptied and refilled. When I’m on a roll writing 3500+ words in a day there’s not a minute to spare to deal with real life. Pffft.

So maybe I am a little punk rock after all. At least in my own way.

Anyway, the writing in this case is actually going pretty well. I’m behind the CampNaNoWriMo goal by a little over a day’s word count, but I’m not all that nervous to be honest. Making it to 50k by the end of August isn’t my main objective. It would be cool, sure, but what I really want is the bones for a solid book concept not just 50,000 useless words I never end up doing anything with.

For those of you that aren’t writers (or have even a teeny bit of interest in hearing about the random day-to-day of one) I’ll apologize right now. Because over the course of the next month or so that’s all you’re likely to read about over here. If I write anything here at all. MS3 is in process and lit up like pyrotechnics on the big stage right now.

On second thought, forget that. No I’m not really sorry that’s all you’ll be reading about. I take it back, this is my blog and I’ll write about writing if I want to. So there.

Yeah! That’s right! Punk rock, bitch!

Tomas Plekanec Does Stay Classy, Even Though He’s a Hab

I really, really wanted to post an update on all things friends, family and manuscript today but after reading an article this morning about an incident that happened during the Bruins game last night, that update is going to have to wait a while because this requires my immediate attention to rant about.

Most of you aren’t Bruins fans.  Hell, most of you aren’t hockey fans so I’ll give a little back story and recap.

A long, long time ago in a country far, far away (Canada) there came to be a hockey team known as the Montreal Canadiens.  Called the Habs for short, this team was one who started the business of hockey as a paid-player franchised sport.  Fast forward just fifteen years later to 1924 and you’ll see that Canada decided to extend their game love and adopted a team known as the Boston Bruins.  The B’s were the first American team to join the league and are considered an Original Six team (a very important point of contention to anyone who is a fan of the sport).

Now, fast forward the eighty-eight years since the B’s were brought into the league, add in some good old fashioned sports-rivalry angst (think Red Sox v. Yankees) and you’ve got yourself all the makings for some aggressive hockey games full of action and adventure.  Sprinkle in a little bit of jealousy, lots of fighting, fan enthusiasm and new-ish NHL rules for good measure, then transport yourself to last night’s game.

Just about every game for the past few seasons my Aunt and I watch on our respective devices (sometimes we get to go to games together, sometimes we watch together, but we’re usually separate) and chat at length on Facebook about pretty much every play of the game.  Last night I had a Writer’s meeting to attend and Matt set up the game to record.  For those who don’t understand, let me once again refer to the Sox/Spankees rivalry as a guidepost – the B’s want to take down the Habs at all cost.  As a Bruins fan I salivate at the thought and no way I was missing that game because of a work related event.

But when I say “take down” what I mean is through scoring and defense, through carefully timed and strategically planned fights, through the standings in the Conference, not in an actual sense.  The Bruins are resting happily in the number 2 spot in the East with 72 points.  Montreal is in 12^th place right now with only 56 points.  Oh, and the Bruins won the Cup last year while the Habs haven’t won one since 1993.  Lots of fodder for fans to get a little chippy themselves.

However, none of that, and I mean none, ever justifies cheering when a player gets hit in the face with a probable 90 mile per hour slapshot and ends up getting stitches during the first intermission**.  Unfortunately that’s exactly what some Montreal fans did last night when the Bruins captain Zdeno Chara took one to the chin.

Yes, they actually began to cheer when he fell to his knees, struggled to get up, and proceeded to start bleeding.

Look, I loathe PK Subban as much as the next B’s fan but that’s only because he wears a Habs uniform.  I respect his talent as a player I just never want to see him win.  But that doesn’t mean I want to see him hurt.  What fun would it be if all the good players got hurt in bitter rivalry games?  And what kind of human would I be if I started clapping and cheering if he went face first onto the ice after taking a frozen piece of rubber to the head?  Not much of one, that’s for sure.

So earlier today I read the article written by Puck Daddy over on Yahoo (linked above) and my own jaw almost hit ice.  He’s basically saying that as fans we have the right, and conditioned emotional response, to be happy when a player from the opposing team is injured.

Um, what the fuck?

Happy when an opposing player is hard-checked into the boards, yes.  Happy when an opponent has an equipment malfunction that takes them off the ice for a while, yes.  Happy that the other team gets drawn into a fight and both players skate on their own volition into the box thus eliminating possible threat of scoring, yes.  But injury?  No.  Just, no.

The fans in Montreal should take a cue from their player, the one who hit the slapshot in the first place, Tomas Plekanec.  The second it connected and Big Z went down Plekanec skated over to make sure he was okay.

Let me repeat that for everyone so it really sinks in – the player from the Habs who took out Montreal’s most despised rival player (this week) with a puck to the face went to make sure the guy was alright.

Now that’s class.

** As a side note for those keeping track, not only did Big Z get sutured up, but, he was back on the ice for the rest of the game with a helmet that showed the glowing red sign of what had happened to him.  And the B’s won the game in a shootout.  That’s hardcore baby.

The Fellowship of the Puck

When Gollum bit Frodo’s finger off to get his hands on the one ring, the desperation that he felt to hold the Precious again was also felt by everyone reading or watching the story of the “Lord of the Rings”. We felt bad for him, sympathetic to how much he wanted it, pity for how the thing had changed him into something unrecognizable after so long. Gollum had turned evil from too many decades of coveting the shiny piece of metal and, despite the blood loss, the good in Frodo had to prevail.

Decades of desire can certainly make some do extremely desperate things, especially when the prize at the end of the journey is a piece of metal with a whole bunch of writing engraved on it. Something that makes you powerful in certain circles. Something that so many others want but can never have.

Last night Alex Burrows somehow morphed into Gollum and in a selfish act to take steps toward the big shiny piece of metal he so desires, he bit Patrice Bergeron’s finger. Burrows bit through Bergy’s glove hard enough to draw blood.

Sorry Burrows but this isn’t called “Lord of the Cups” my friend, it’s the Stanley Cup finals. Can someone get this guy a muzzle before game 2 please?

In sports, like in life, sometimes evil looks like it might pull ahead enough to win, enough to smother good and send it crawling into the darkness; there are times when all seems lost. Especially when the opposing team to who you’re rooting for get a four minute penalty after the biting skirmish but still manage to hold off a scoring opportunity until 18 seconds before the end of the game when they place the puck in your net. Especially when that goal could be argued as non-legit due to a missed offside call.

But the good must prevail. Somehow the Felllowship of the Puck must rise up together and fight the battle of their lives at night inside that wall. Just when all seems lost there must be a rallying of the troops.

Led by the formidable wizard-sized captain Zdeno Chara, the been-all-over Ranger-esque Mark Recchi, and of course, the stout and tough Timmy Thomas with his L shaped axe, he will encourage the team to travel all the way to the other end of the ice with a conviction so strong to triumph over evil that there is no way the Canucks can stop themselves from falling into the lava.

Because in the words of the mighty Bergeron…

“…biting? I mean come on.”

Giggling at the Rapture of the Lightning

First off I think that’s an excellent title for an album so if my aunt and her friend ever start the rock band that I predict they will start -- Mumsie and the Old Ladies -- I give them full permission to use the title of this blog as their first album name.

But of course you all know that I’m really talking about Saturday.

I just can’t figure it out. Is the alleged ending of the world being shoved down our throats so we all book trips to far off lands in an effort to satisfy at least one item on the bucket list? Is it so we stop giving a crap about high-ass gas prices?

Or maybe it’s so we turn a blind eye to the fact that there is actually a guy in Tampa Bay who is so desperate for ratings on his new wanna-be Howard Stern path that he’s actually trying to start a rivalry with us in Boston.

Giggle.

Sorry, I just slipped into full on girlie-giggle mode for a second there at the thought that poor old, sad and lonely Tampa Bay feels so left out of things that they had to go and try to create a rivalry between the Lightning and the Bruins.

Again…giggle.

Here’s the thing Cowhead, your letter is an interesting rebuttal to your own point of contention but we already have our rivalries set here in our city so maybe you should seek out some other expansion team to fight.

We, however, are not free to do more than roll our eyes at you; our rivalries date back at least eighty some odd years. A number you should be familiar with as it’s the median age of most people in your state.

We’ve got a long tradition of sports here in Boston and I certainly don’t discount that Tampa Bay has a healthy following of their teams, I mean hell spring training for the Grapefruit league is right around the corner from you and all, but again, when it comes to rivalries in Boston its Spankees, Jets, Habs, Lakers.

So as you can see there is just no room for your cute little team to weasel your way in there. I mean we totally respect why you’d like to try though seeing as though we’re clearly a good team to rival. After so many years without a Pennant the siege of the Yankees was like torture in Boston. But the thing is, in Boston we respect the reality of it all, we own it and just keep trying.

Oh yeah, which reminds me, you’ll want to change your letter to us, it hasn’t been thirty years since our last Stanley Cup, its been thirty nine. I mean hello, if you’re going to insult us at least look up some facts first, geez.

Anyway, the thing is, we took down the signs and all that stuff you were so easily offended by and that’s pretty much the reason we have no interest in your cute little attempt at starting a rivalry with us. The entire time we were removing the signs we were visibly rolling our eyes and thinking:

“What a bunch of pansies, they can’t take a joke?”

Because, you see, any team that is going to be our rival has to have as thick a skin as ours or more. Which is why half our rivalries come from New York. Are you catching on yet?

So here’s your sweet little pat on the head and suggestion that you find a new team to torture because we’ve got plenty of that going on here already.

I hear the Thrashers are about to move to Winnipeg, maybe they’re free.





Doing this today:












grab a cup and play along!