
One thing about being the new kid in town—you are constantly in situations where you have to introduce yourself. Trying to make friends in Lima means I’m telling my life story, at least once a week, to a stranger I’ve just met. It’s a repetitive exercise but also one that I have found incredibly clarifying, especially when it comes to describing my career. I describe myself as a writer and translator, which inevitably leads to people asking what I write and where. Because I’m talking to civilians, I know that what they’re asking is where I have been published, who has paid for my words. So I lead with that.
“Oh, so a journalist,” they’ll say, correcting me.
“I’ve written some journalistic pieces,” I’ll respond. My own corrective.
Yes, it is true that most of my published writing falls under the grand rubric of journalism. About half of that, especially in the early stages of my career, was criticism. Because they live in pop culture websites instead of academic journals, it can be easily perceived as entertainment reporting. The rest have been interviews, surveys, and reported pieces on subjects I’m interested in but nothing I would necessarily describe as literary. And it’s starting to annoy me. The fact that people outside of my creative industry class also see this as being a journalist, more than a writer, irritates me even more, even though they have all the evidence to fully support their argument.
No shade to journalists! Big fan of them. And no shame to my bylines either! I worked hard on those pieces, brought my own razzle dazzle when I could, and was incredibly proud of them when they were released into the world. But even when my output was on a regular churn, instead of the trickle it is now, I never thought of myself as a journalist. I was a creative writer who hustled to get whatever byline she could, because it was more important to me back then to have a byline than a coherent artistic vision.
Ever since I fled the US because of economic anxiety (lol), I’ve been thinking long and hard about what I’m even trying to do with my writing career. It’s not that these questions weren’t plaguing me before, but I didn’t have the financial or emotional stability to sit with my thoughts. Reflection, unfortunately, has turned into a luxury item. The blunt responses I’m getting in Peru have driven this point even further. How did I even get here?
Like many young writers, I always thought I was going to be a novelist. (Sometimes, I still do.) When I went full throttle into Chicago’s live lit scene, I realized I was also an essayist but I had no idea where to place the kind of humorous essays I was writing. To be fair, I still don’t. The usual adage is to pitch or submit to places you love to read, which at the time was mostly Old School Gawker and Jezebel, Food & Wine, and The New Yorker. It seemed like you had to be a staff member to go hog wild on some hyper specific rant or obscure obsession. Or be David Sedaris. If you were a freelancer, though, you had to pitch a story that would serve their readers and you better not have written a single word of it. So I started thinking of what I could possible sell to outlets, instead of what was burning in my writerly heart.
I also thought literary journals were only for famous writers and had no idea what function they played in the wider publishing industry. So there’s also that.
My writing portfolio is mostly made up of bylines from that era. Again, I’m very happy with some of the work I produced in that very prolific stage of my life, where I said yes to any assignment and any editor that wanted to work with me. I once wrote a Handmaid’s Tale recap that casually mentioned what city in Gilead would win the war based on their taco game alone, which turned the comments section into a battlefield. A mischievous achievement. Soon after, I managed to piss off one of the show’s producers, who yelled at me for a day, then apologized, then followed me on Twitter and would sporadically give me advice. I broke into some dream publications, like The Cut and Saveur, with story ideas I genuinely cared about and researched with the zeal of my grad school days. This was not time wasted. At all.
BUT it wasn’t really aligned with any overarching goal other than wanting to have irrefutable evidence that I was a writer to others. I hoped, obviously, that I would go up some inexistent freelance writing ladder, every rung representing a longer and more complex story, one I would climb all the way up to either a book deal or a staff position. Ludicrous to think so, super cringe to even admit this out loud. I never gained that kind of traction, for a whole host of reasons I wont get into now. A part of, to be honest, was because I liked a certain work-life balance and it was already deliciously uneven even with the kind of writing I was doing. Now, with media being in an even more intense free fall that before, I can’t help but think that this ladder has fallen flat on the ground. At best, I can hope for lateral moves. Another way of saying a dead end. Far more successful freelance writers/journalists than me are despairing over how it’s been impossible to place anything this year. There’s always been a lot of thankless, behind-the-scenes, unpaid work when it comes to writing anything (if you’re not a staff writer and/or have a book deal with a sizable advance), with little guarantee. But pitching seemed like the one with the highest chances of a quick return. If that’s no longer the case, then why should I keep pitching? When my dreams lie elsewhere?
At AWP, I also kept having to introduce myself to people I had just met. The big difference between that and my social outings in Peru, was that I usually did so with a friend in tow, someone who either reads my newsletter or has seen me read my personal essays out loud. Seeing yourself through the eyes of loved ones can also offer illuminating data. They mentioned my writing in these mainstream outlets but they often added, “But I think where you really shine is in your newsletter/live lit pieces.” After hearing our essays in our panel, an editor from a literary journal gushed about how we had offered readings that felt fresh and engaging, and encouraged us to submit. It felt nice to actually be seen.
Where does this leave me now? I still have some story ideas I want to place because I think they would be of interest to a larger audience and would benefit from editorial support. The newsletter space is getting awfully crowded and I’m down to only promoting myself on Instagram. I’d like these stories to function as an extension of what I do here, an extension of the Ines Bellina Literary Universe. So I’m not entirely done pitching yet. I am also a realist, though, and I’ve given myself a year. If no editor bites, they’ll live here.
In terms of my essay writing, though, I’ve been extremely productive behind-the-scenes. I’m submitting to literary journals, drafting new work, revising old. Getting published in that space is even more of a crapshoot than pitching, and it takes longer to get a response—like 6 months to a year. Though I will forever identify as a writer, there’s a part of me that will feel like a fraud if I don’t publish elsewhere. That can take a really long time. It’s a risk and one I’m taking now because I am feeling like a bit of a fraud already, by not wholeheartedly pursuing what I want to write.
I’m not gonna lie, I’m also afraid of losing subscribers. My newsletter was initially founded on the idea that I would offer a glimpse into making it as a writer. I’ve since expanded to include other topics, but I’m very aware that the majority of people cough up $5 to see what a successful pitch or artist statement looks like, and then bounce. I don’t begrudge them for it. Hell, some of them even stick around. Still, it’s a concern. However, this grueling, silent, lonely work is part of being a writer too. It’s actually the most vital part.
Most of the writers I admire do a little bit of everything. I understand that pitching vs. submitting, journalism vs. creative writing, journalist vs. writer is a false dichotomy. I think of Roxane Gay who is a novelist, essayist, op-ed writer and newsletter producer as someone whose career I would love to emulate. Gary Shteyngart, who is mostly a fiction writer but dabbles quite well in reporting and memoir. Daniel Alarcón who left behind his career as a short story writer, to focus on podcasts and in-depth investigative pieces for The New Yorker. There are countless like them and I would sell my left boob to get even a smidge of their recognition and publishing opportunities. But in order to get anywhere doing that, I have to bet on my point of view. I’m not sure I can find that in pitching to outlets at this juncture.
Poll
I taught a short class on freelancing during challenging times for StoryStudio’s Pub Crawl earlier this year. It touched on the current landscape, the challenges freelancers face and also new opportunities that have opened up. I also offered some prompts to writers about whether freelancing was really the route that was most conducive to their goals. I’m thinking of offering this class on my own and expanding it to include some more exercises and need-to-know info. It would be geared towards freelancers who are just starting out, people who are thinking about freelancing, or those who have done it in the past but have no idea what’s going on now. I would love to gauge your interest. Please vote so I can figure out if this is worth all our times or nah.
Homework
Write down 2-3 projects you know you want to work on at some point in your career, whether you are in the creative fields or not. Are you creating a foundation for that? Are the tasks you are doing right now leading you to that goal? How can you start taking steps towards it?
Money Lesson
Not to get all tinfoil, deep YouTube conspiracy theorist on you, but: start carrying cash. Apparently, several European governments have started asking their residents to keep some cash on them in case all hell breaks loose (aka WWIII) and the electronic banking systems fail. Or just look at what happened in Spain and Portugal this week when there was that massive blackout. My uncle and his family landed that same day in Barajas and had a hellish time getting to their accommodations. The line for cabs was over two hours long and drivers were only accepting passengers with cold, hard euros in their hand. When they arrived at their friend’s house, there was one bodega and one restaurant open and they too were only accepting cash. Just a thought! Enough to buy you a meal, at the very least.
Progress Report
It’s been a month of “almost there”s. I got waitlisted for Macondo, received a very kind and flattering rejection from Provecho, and an encouraging one from Cake Zine. I submitted to nine literary journals, sent two pitches and applied to one fellowship. This frenzy came about because according to the Chani App, I’m supposed to be going through a fortunate stretch in my career. I haven’t seen evidence of that yet, but time will tell!
I’m still making notes on my novel, though it’s stalled a bit this week because of my workload.
Two of my freelance projects got pushed back, so I’m looking at a pretty lean month. No bueno. I’m going to follow up with some old clients and potential leads. In the meantime, if you know of any freelance writing or translation gigs, let me know!
I crossed off two more items in my bingo card:
I decided that teaching a class on storytelling for my friend’s college course counted as volunteering. I also successfully completed my voice lessons! The end-of-term performance was a blast and I’m glad I have better control of my pipes. Since money is a little tight and I want to explore other hobbies, I decided that was the end of the road for my life as a singer hehe.
Subscriber Benefits
Our next mini-salon is on Thursday, May 8 at 12pm CT/1pm ET. The topic is actually very apropos to this week’s essay: “Why Even Make This: Finding spiritual and practical meaning in the creative process.” Paid subscribers can submit questions ahead of time and will have access to the recording. If you are a free subscriber, the mini-salon is offered as a pay-what-you-can event with a $15 suggested fee (but we welcome all amounts). You can sign up here.
I’ll send out the May schedule for the Cranky Guide Writing “Hour” soon! I have to change our usual Mondays due to travel, but hopefully changing the day means other can attend that haven’t had the chance yet.
A paid subscription also includes:
Samples of my pitches & rates, applications, and spreadsheets & templates
Access to the full archive (free posts go behind a paywall after a year)
Help Save PBS!
I’ve been working part-time for PBS for close to a year. It’s my steadiest gig and my most wholesome one. I believe in its mission and wake up every day knowing there’s at least one thing on my to-do list that benefits humankind. Trump signed an executive order calling for the elimination of federal funding for PBS and NPR. This is—no shocker here!—illegal and is an attack on free speech in all sorts of way. Pulling federal funding also threatens to close local stations in many rural and tribal areas, places where PBS and/or NPR are often the ONLY local station they have access to.
What can you do? Glad you asked!
Call your reps and urge them to protect PBS and NPR.
Donate to your local PBS station. If you live in a big, blue city, you might want to adopt an at-risk station and send your money there.
Stay informed via Protect My Public Media.
Shameless Self-Promotion
My evergreen favorite StoryStudio is hosting its annual fundraiser and silent auction, StoryBall! You can once again bid for a tarot reading with dear old me. All proceeds help support the Stories Matter Foundation, including scholarships for emerging writers.
Here are some books I’ve worked on:
LGSNQ: Gentrification & Preservation in a Chicago Neighborhood (co-author)
Desolación by Gabriela Mistral (co-translator)
My most recent writing:
If you’re struggling with the artist statement, I can help! My On-Demand class, Navigating the Artist Statement, is available for purchase at StoryStudio. Watch at your own time, at your own pace, and send those babies out!
Every week, I look at Five Calls, pick the issue that is most making me scream into the void, and use their app to call my reps. I’m making saving PBS my entire personality but the app shows you a list of issues you can discuss with your reps.
If you ever want to peruse all the books I recommend in the newsletter, head over to my Bookshop bookstore!
I try to remind myself that though I may never be published, that doesn't mean that I'm not a writer.
Writer-journalist-blogger-wordsmith-storyteller-under-employed-full-time-mindfucked-loony-toon AHHHH! We are all magical! Grateful for you and your words. <3