Petty Fuels My Writing
For years after I read an essay titled “Avocado Toast” at Chicago’s Funny Ha-Ha show, strangers would come up to me to ask if I was the person who ranted against the Millennial brunch staple on that one show they saw. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to being famous. I shared it at a couple of other shows and, every time, a new batch of proto-fans would approach me at bars, bookstores, the public pool to say that I looked familiar.
“If you’re into live lit, I’m the person who wrote that screed against avocado toast,” I’d say and notice the flash of recognition in their eyes. They would compliment my piece, telling me how much it made them laugh, how pointed it felt, and how spot-on I was on the critique of a food trend that had, for Peruvians like me, been a pretty standard snack for eons.
Though it feels dated now—avocado toast being now its own lazy shorthand for a type of clueless Boomer complaint on younger generations; avocado toast being its own lazy retort against such complaints for a chronically online person now —that essay is one of the favorite things I’ve ever written. It poured out of me like lava, in a mythical flow state that I thought, for so long, was a lie famous authors told reporters for the sole purpose of self-aggrandizement. I remember my emotional state too when I first typed the words, “Of all the hills to die on, avocado toast isn’t the obvious choice.”
I was feeling petty.
In 2018, when I was still in the baby steps phase of my freelance writing career, a food writer skewered Chicago’s lauded restaurant scene. Local media set pre-Elon Musk's twitter ablaze with hot takes, responses, and that fist-in-the-air-malort-in-your-face anger that Chicagoans tap into whenever they feel their city is being unjustly portrayed. During this very local media scandal, I asked one simple question: “Are there any Latino/a/e food writers in Chicago?” The answer was they were all freelance and sporadic. My reaction was to start pitching food stories to the city’s publications.
“Being petty is one of my great motivators,” I told a college class when I regaled them with my story about how I got into food writing.
Looking back, though, petty has been my coach, my long-standing companion, and sometimes the only objective that gets me out of bed in the morning. And when I say petty, I wonder if I’m really using it as a nickname for an even larger sentiment: anger. For better or for worse, some of the most defining moments in my professional trajectory have a low-key, simmering, nucleus of righteous indignation.
For example, that Peruvian college boyfriend I had who saw my steller end-of-semester grades, compared them to his mediocre ones, and said that the reason I aced my classes was that I was good at telling professors what they wanted to hear, unlike him who had such “imaginative thoughts.” Several months later, I was on a plane to Montreal to attend an even more renowned university where I also scored an impressive GPA.
I got my first paid byline partly because I vocally told an editor at a bar how the latest literary darling was nothing more than an example of readers confusing milquetoast-white-women-dating-blogs for gravitas and I stand by that statement.
I still relish the text my ex-brother-in-law sent me after I published a piece on R. Kelly because that meant that my ex-husband probably knew about it, the same one who told me he was surprised I had the skills or know-how to figure out how to rent an apartment for myself after I moved out of our shared home.
Tin House, Wedding Cake, Sundress Residency where I am currently writing this from—all places that opened their doors to me with a piece whose first line is literally, “Fuck ceviche.” Akin to Avocado Toast, I wrote it when I felt particularly spicy and no longer cared about being polite on the page.
Sometimes, I’m frustrated by the fact that a lot of my published work—as proud as I am of it—is restrained. Those who have seen me read at storytelling shows are way more aware of the no-holds-back, pulsating fire that comes pouring out of me when I feel free to say what I want, without fear or repercussions. It’s what I felt so intoxicating about live lit shows: I knew my words would burn through a crowd and then dissipate, like smoke. No trace of them left, no concern about whether I went too far or hurt anyone too much.
But I’m at a point now where I realize this is a coward’s way out. Not only that, but meekness doesn’t make for a longstanding career. Swinging big does. Saying the thing no one wants to say does. Being honest, in a way that only you can be, does.
In February, someone I cared about hurt me in a way so profound, I’m still processing. It’s taken everything in my power to take one step in front of the other. However, I am so fortunate to be a person who 1) RAISES her standards and boundaries after someone knocks them down so carelessly and 2) finds solace in work. I am still angry and hurt, but this is what I’ve managed to do since that event:
Applied for a job I really wanted
Sent out two client proposals
Secure two retainer clients and two translation projects
Pitched an idea I’ve been ruminating for years to about 10 dream publications. If I don’t sell it, I’ll just write about it for the newsletter.
Sold a pitch after 4-5 tries.
Made the decision to leave New York.
I wish I was a better, more spiritually elevated person driven by healthier, more sustainable, lofty goals. Something like “healing” or “spreading joy”. I can be, sometimes! I honestly don’t like feeling angry. Instead of liberating, I find it overwhelming, a sign that I let things get so out of hand when I could have made better choices. But I value the fire it lights under my ass and know myself well enough that it can be a gift. Might as well capitalize on it and use the ashes, soil, and flickering embers to create something new.
Random Poll
This has only occurred to me now, but are you interested in reading Avocado Toast? It’s definitely a relic of the 2010s but maybe we could all use a short trip to a simpler time haha.
Homework
What emotion fuels you the most? Can you tap into it in a way that feels constructive?
State of My Wallet
February Invoiced: $5,814.60
February Received: $567
Dipping into my meager savings to pay for my life also makes me angry, LOL. Another choice I’ve made during this period of Wrath Becomes Me is to phase out check payments and only give clients electronic payment options moving forward. Stay tuned for updates on how I achieve that.
Progress Report
Grant applications sent: 1
Pitches sent: 5
LOIs/Job Applications: 4
Accepted pitches: 1
Rejected pitches: 2
Rejected LOIs/Job Applications: 1
Accepted proposals: 2
I learned this month that there really is value on pitching the same story to at least 5 different publications before giving up on it. The pitch I sold was one I’ve been shopping around since late last year and it took the editor close to a month to get back to me. Yay, perseverance!
Shameless Self-Promotion
We are in the final month of Q1 and thankfully Q2 is shaping up to be pretty packed. However, I am still on the look out for my wish list projects:
Overseeing Spanish-language recording sessions for ad spots. I started doing this last year and absolutely love it! Agencies hire me because I can ensure actors are using the appropriate accent and tone, and sound clear. Since I also have a copywriting background, I can edit the script on the fly if need be.
More editorial/long-form work. I love a commissioned pieced, so if there are any editors out there reading this who would like to work with me, please reach out.
Translating news articles.
Interview-based pieces. Think About Me sections, profiles, internal reports, etc.
A reminder that I also provide feedback on artist statements. Reply to this email to learn more.
I’ll am teaching a one-night workshop on how to use reporting to shape your creative writing projects on March 19. We’ll cover topics like interview techniques, working with libraries, and researching for creative writing. Open to writers of all genres.
You can still get a Tarot card reading for 2024! The half-hour virtual sessions are a great way to gain some insight into next year. The suggested donation is $40. Books yours here.
Take a look at my Poshmark closet, if you’re into that sort of thing. I’ll be adding more items the closer I get to my moving day.
Thanks to all my new minty-fresh subscribers! Your support means a lot. I hope to see you soon in my weekly virtual write-ins. Interested in joining? Upgrade for the invite and access other benefits like samples of my pitches or freelance templates.
Fuck Ceviche!
I would not be where I am today if it weren't for my literary nemesis. What is that saying?