|Ever feel like a little gaffer|
getting yelled at by a
We were called freelance writers because the local paper couldn't afford to pay us properly. I was the only one with education or experience, yet I was treated the same as the others, and often, I did all the grunt work, while they got the story, because I was at my real job. (my real job-- they actually told me that. yikes, did I ever not feel like a writer that day.)
First lesson- you start at the bottom, buttercup.
Honestly, I just wanted to write. I'd never not written. I had a diploma in journalism, it seemed senseless to waste it. So, I worked full time, and did this gophering on the side, taking the abuse weekly.
Second lesson- I'd starve if I relied on writing, yet I had to write.
Third lesson- People like to read about things that piss them off. Editors like to make money, they care nothing about soiling your good name. (This might not be true for all paper editors, but so far, none have changed my opinion, so the lesson sticks.)
Fourth lesson- Don't put people with fancy titles on pedestals, they are only human too.
Fifth lesson- My time is worth something, respect that princess.