December 2008

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I've Been Broke But I've Never Been Poor

The headline to this post is a quote from legendary last-century film and theater producer Mike Todd. And while there are times I've had difficulty wrapping my head around that concept, I have to admit that I'm living proof of his credo.

See, I've been broke pretty much my whole life. The times I've had the luxury to spend money without seriously considering the consequences have been very few and extremely far between. Even now, over 20 years into a successful writing and editing career, I still go through periods where I'm glad for catered affairs that allow me to eat for free (and I'm not above bringing a large enough bag to squirrel away a few delicacies for later). I've done broke for so long that I've gotten pretty good at it, and when money gets extra tight, I just go into that ultra-frugal mode where money only leaves my hands when absolutely necessary.

The thing is, I've never really been poor because I've always lived on my own terms. What is poor to me? Poor is living on a comfortable income and being such a slave to it that you've left your dreams behind. Poor is living beyond your means (however much that is and for whatever the reason may be) and going deeper into debt every month.

Ever since I was in middle school I knew I was destined to write. I made a pact to myself early on that I would never let anything get in the way of my pursuit of a writing career. That has colored my choice of work and relationships. I never picked up a line of work for very long that got in the way of my writing time, and I avoided men who seemed like they would put their needs before my writing. Has this led to loneliness, bad relationships and a closet of old clothes and cheap, worn-out shoes? Yeah, but it also gave me a really fun life that allowed me to run around at all hours, sleep in, pick up a pen at any hour of the day or middle of the night and see my work in print a whole bunch. Which above everything else, is what really mattered to me.

And my mostly austere lifestyle has paid off. Eventually I found a guy who felt the same way about his music that I do about my writing and understood my priorities. And the times I've had an unexpected windfall, I've done sensible things like invest in real estate so that now I live in a great house that, even in this market, is worth several hundred thousand more than I owe on it — plus it's within walking distance of the library, post office and Trader Joe's, so I can go days without using the car (a nondescript 2002 Ford Escort which I bought used). I pay my bills in full every month. My work life revolves around pitch letters, deadlines (some of them self-imposed), and coming up with new writing ideas. I would much rather have a book contract, no matter how small, instead of a new pair of shoes. I'll just have new heels put on the old ones because they look cool and I really don't care. I would much rather be here in front of my computer, buried in a Word document than at a stupid shopping mall anyhow.

So in reality, my life is abundant — I don't have to do anything other than pursue writing gigs. My material needs are few and material wants even fewer. I have enough money to get by, and I can adjust down when needed. If a big chunk of money happens my way, as does happen periodically, I will use most of it to upgrade something in the house or squirrel it away for unexpected expenses, and take a little and splurge on something beneficial like a facial. I like money. Honest. But seeing my byline and having my stories read widely is more important in the long run — some of that will live on, long after the Big One has leveled Southern California and probably my house, and the clothes in my closet have finally gone so woefully out of style that I can't bear to bring them out anymore.

Over the past couple of decades, there have apparently been a few recessions, but I never noticed them because I was broke to begin with. I'm broke now, but really no broker than normal. But I wake up every day, knowing that because I am straight on my priorities, I'm wealthy in time and creativity and the energy to accomplish good, and sometimes even great things. For me, living any other way is tantamount to poverty.

Worst Holiday Gift Ever

The video below is actually a jewelry ad, but I think it's brilliant. If you're a woman you've undoubtedly had to suffer this at one point or another.



Since my boyfriend never looks at my writing online, I am free to tell his story without hurting his feelings (unless one of you chooses to tell him, but let's keep it between us, okay?). The first December we were together, he gave me a luggage cart. I had been hoping for something pretty and romantic - it was too soon for a ring, but I thought that a vintage silver and amethyst bracelet might be nice. Or maybe a mystical amulet that would speak of the deeper aspects of our connection. Or at the very least, an ornately-carved box in which to hide our "stash" (we were indulging in substances not quite legal at the time - okay, extremely illegal). But no - I had spent a good portion of the past year traveling and he thought a luggage cart might come in handy.

A few weeks later, we split up. I made him take back his stupid luggage cart and continued to lug my suitcase around by hand. Eventually we got back together, but I never took back the cart. Brian has since learned his lesson: give me either jewelry or toys (I have a passion for toys, the more girly and childish, the better). But to this day, 14 years later, whenever I think of that luggage cart, I feel exactly like that girl in the video.

Now, it's your turn: what's your rotten holiday gift story? C'mon, out with it. The more lunkheaded the better. 

Plug for my Fave Non Profit

NaBloPoMo Wrap Up

It's the end of November and I've done it — I've blogged every single one of the past 30 days for National Blog Posting Month. It wasn't easy. Not that I didn't have an opinion or something to say every single day in November. I did. I just wasn't sure that what I had to say was worth saying in a public blog. And when I did feel it was worthwhile, I had to be a journalist about it, which meant researching the topic and providing links when appropriate. Some of my blogs ran as much as 900 words and took a couple of days to write, during which I loaded my blog with filler, or as I more fondly call it, "crap."

I took a look back at the past month and put my posts into one of three categories (I didn't count today's blog):

  1. Useful posts, where I wrote something that had some sort of quality.
  2. Posts that were mainly links or videos, but were still of interest.
  3. The aforementioned filler, or crap, just tossed up so there was something there for that day.
Here's how it added up: Quality posts — 17; Video/Link posts — 3; crap posts — 9

While I'm certainly not proud of the number of crap posts — nearly a third of my output — my quality posts add up to approximately 4 per week, which is way more good stuff than I was writing before. This blog was languishing with maybe a handful of updates a year until I dived into NaBloPoMo.

Will I do it again? Well, not in December! I need a break. Will I at least blog more frequently here in the future? I promise nothing, but I really would like to keep up some sort of regularity with my posting. I'm happy with a lot of what I wrote; I just wish I'd had more readers.

One More Day!

My next to last post for the NaBloPoMo November project! And I managed to blog every day, though just barely. I'll wrap it up tomorrow with my thoughts. Until then, enjoy one of my all-time favorite videos:

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