Do something long enough, and eventually you find that landmarks and anniversaries whiz by unnoticed and/or unacknowledged. Whether you’re talking about a marriage, a career, or anything else you’ve been involved with for a long time, it’s easy to become comfortable, even complacent. I don’t feel complacent, but I did completely whiff on the reality that yesterday marked 12 years that I’ve maintained this blog. It’s one of the longest relationships I’ve been blessed to have, and evidently I’ve become comfortable enough with that relationship that I barely notice the milestones anymore.
What began on 9.3.01 as The People’s Republic of Seabrook and morphed into What Would Jack Do? after I escaped from Texas moved to Portland is something I never imagined I’d still be doing 12 years later. After more then 21,000 posts of varying degrees of quality, I believe I’m a better writer and a better (if not more objective) observer of the human condition. I’ve tried to break free from writing about politics on many occasions over the years, but that’s where my passion and inspiration lie. Instead of trying to turn my back on politics, I’ve finally recognized what gets my attention. Instead of fighting it, I’m trying to strike a balance and be willing to look outside politics for inspiration. Sometimes that process works. Sometimes it doesn’t. I’ve learned that it’s generally better to follow my inspiration than trying to resist. And so politics it generally is.
The biggest reason I started blogging was my unabashed love for writing- that and I had a lot of time to kill when I was working as a contractor for Enron in downtown Houston. Writing’s the one thing I KNOW I’m good at. I love stringing together complete sentences in ways that move people or set them to thinking. I’ve always said that if I can make one person think, my writing is still relevant and worth pursuing. That continues to be true, but when that’s no longer the case, I’ll walk away and find something else. Until someone wants to pay me to play my guitar- an unlikely prospect at best- this will continue to be my artistic outlet.
I’d hoped that by now I would have figured out a way to make a living (If Josh Marshall and Markos Moulitsas can do it….) off my writing, but the reality is that making any sort of money as a writer is a challenge. The market is glutted with people who think they can write (though few truly can). Because of this, media companies and other enterprises dependent on written content offer compensation that doesn’t even rise to the level of starvation wages. I’ve been offered a few opportunities (blogging for the Washington Post and L.A. Times, f’ristance), but it’s always with the “Well, we can’t pay you” caveat. Why should they when there are so many writers who would supply content for the “honor” of having a byline? When last I checked, though, you can’t deposit a byline, nor can you pay the rent or keep yourself in kibble. In the vast majority of cases, when you calculate a per-hour wage it works out to be less than minimum wage.
My dream of making a living off my writing continues, but I’ve had to come to grips with the possibility that this dream may never be realized. I know I can write, and I know I’m good at it. That’s not arrogance, that’s my gift. It would be great if someone recognized that and offered me a book contract (Lord knows that 21000+ posts provide more than enough material) or a paid blogging gig, but that may never happen. The question then becomes how long do I continue writing with the hope of someday losing my amateur status? Fortunately, my passion for writing has never been dependent on making money. I still love it, and I’ll continue until that’s no longer the case. After 12 years of TPRS/WWJD, I still love the work and the discipline of writing, and so I’ll keep going.
Do what you love and the money will follow…right? I think I saw that on a bumper stick once upon a time. Or maybe it was a book. I forget.
One of the beautiful things about maintaining this blog is that I can write about whatever I want without having to please or answer to anyone else. I can be myself without having to worry about smoothing the rough edges like I do in so many other aspects of my life. I can write what I think, which, despite a few notable (and ignominious) exceptions, has worked pretty well. I work hard to be honest and sincere in my writing, and in most cases I think I succeed. I’ve occasionally rubbed a few people the wrong way, but I console myself with the knowledge that if I’ve pissed someone off they’re at least thinking about what I’ve written.
As ever, I’d be remiss in not expressing my undying gratitude to a few kind souls without whose assistance none of this would have been possible. Brian Kane, whose blog I still miss, set my blog up and provided hours upon hours of technical wizardry. Then along came James Bow, who (for reasons I can’t begin to understand but am beyond grateful for) has for several years provided endless hours of ongoing technical support. I’m a writer, not a techie, and I freely that I couldn’t code my way out of a paper sack. Thankfully, I haven’t had to worry about that.
Last, but certainly not least, the rotating masthead graphics are courtesy of David Flanders, who, despite our differences on gun control, has been a reader and long-distance supporter for years. I’ve been blessed to have readers from all over the world, some of whom have hung around for years. Not a day goes by that I don’t recognize how fortunate I am, and what an amazing undertaking this has turned into. With any luck, I’ll be at it for a good long time…and hopefully I’ll figure out a way to make a living off my writing. Stay tuned….
