Apologies

Sorry for the lack of updates. I blame it on my lack of time. I get in from work and I'm epicly tired.

I'm dropping the D.C. spoken word post entirely, I've got hardly any motivation left to finish it off. I'll bring you up to speed with my work these days though.

I've been learning how to create marketing strategies, thanks in part to my boss. In my case, it's a plan of action to get the author and his book promoted. It's simple work, but very tedious--requires alot of research and email writing. But there are some parts I like: like back galley copywriting.

Galley being the preview copy of the book you send out for early review. The copywriting bit is a summary of the book that's meant to promote it. Maybe I just like the fact that I get to read on the job.

When I'm not writing copy, I'm doing the less glamorous task of researching publications, blogs, and other media to push our books too. That part is simple enough, you use Google and scan the web.

More interesting though, are the meetings with the authors. Like today. Today we got a visit from an author whose book we're going to be publishing in a few months. It was a standard thing, first we shot a vid-interview for her website, later in the day we'd have a marketing strategy pow-wow(woof!).

I think what makes the author meetups so interesting is that whenever I mention I want to be a writer, they look at me and laugh their heads off. I always take it in stride. It's only happened twice afterall.

But this time I got the skinny on how much writers really make. Even if you're a best seller, chances are you're going to make less than 15k from one book. If you just pump out one a year, you're stabbed in the foot more or less. So, you inevitably have to supplement your income. Most writers teach, but rarely get enough time. Unless you're the Dean Koontz type who can make over three books a year, you won't be able to do it fulltime. At least, not the writing you want to do.

I dunno.

The more people tell me this job, or that job sucks...The more I just wanna reach out and jab 'em in the eye. It's a recession, all the jobs suck these days!

Whatever.

Good news is, the marketing meeting I was in kept me at work for two hours after I got off, which caused me to miss the DC metro redline train. It got into an accident around 5PM, when I usually get off. Bad wreck. :/

My condolonces to anyone who's been affected by it.

Life in the village of C.C. Part 1

I'm on my second week in D.C. My only regular pattern is work. The things I want to do I can't yet exactly, but I'm working on it.

Work's fine. Settling into things. I'm mainly writing and reading--which is what I wanted, but I wonder if there's something that I'm missing. Still, it's only the first week, so we'll see.

My employer is a nice,  small publishing company, so I get to see how all the gears work. It's also an office--and most likely an industry--dominated by women. Everytime I walk into the office I imagine my co-workers in some kind of WWII era weapon factory. Except the weapon is a book. Every one that rolls off the presses was made possible thanks to generous grants(warbonds), elbow grease (Paper work), and an office full of Rosie the Riveters. 

My ma raised me, so I guess it makes sense that the world's books would be supplied by women. I wonder how it turned out that way, though. Maybe I'll ask sometime.

My overarching project--the marketing plan to push our books to University and College students hasn't come into material form yet. Just ideas floating around in my head that I'll talk about sometime.

So, now, about the city.

Last night I went to D.C.'s famous Bus Boys and Poets Cafe for their open mic. It was my second time going, the event always sells out, it's always packed, and there is always poetry(and more). 

The first time I got stuck on the stage watching other people perform with fellow latecomers who hadn't paid for tickets. This next time, though, I came prepared. Got my ticket early. Four bucks for two hours of poetry seemed fair.

I arrived on the spot an hour early to make sure I could get on the open mic list, this was, of course, after I scribbled poems I'd written into a notebook so I could read--one day I'll scribble them inside my head. A few minutes were spent browsing their awesome bookstore(which I need to hit up next payday, f'serious. They had some awesome books...) and then the doors open. People started heading for the door like pilgrims going to Mecca. I joined the ranks.

I pass by a room full of hip, twenty-thirty somethings, most of them Black, then the Kitchen. First the sounds of people enjoying themself hit y ou on the right, and the smell of soul food and ethnic spices hit you from the left. And all the while people are shuffling around the place, waiters are weaving through the crowd. Saw alot of strange people--poets are a strange crowd after all-- and a lot of beautiful people as well. 

When I got through the doors I was in the Langston Room, immediately across from you is the Wall of Peace. It's a huge mural decorated with faces quotes and photos of famous activisits, geniuses, and alot of other figures who've redeemed society's shortcomings, the rest of the room has this dreamy effect thanks in part to the lighting, and the heat coming off everyone when we crowd into the room. Then the door closes, the tech crew set up the stage, and it begins.

I made the mistake of sitting in the backmost, corner table. A booth. My company was a white couple, a group of kids my age from either Jamaica or East Africa(Or both), and an old MC named Lurch(Lerch?). Lots of interesting characters rocked the mic, but none better than the Emcee for the night, Bomani. Cat was mad funny, a Hip-Hop father with a good sense of humor. He starts off the night promoting his own, comical brand of "gangsta" hip-hopoetry as the unspoken sacrificial lamb and starts rapping about his childhood shortcomings. 

What followed was a series of all a village's members: from the elders, to the fools, to the outcasts.

The best part about it is that everyone had a voice before the rest of us(the tribe). 

More to come in Part 2.

No Time(Cont.'d)

Let me explain.

I use my Cellphone as my watch.

This morning I had to drop off some books to the Washington Post to be reviewed. I realized I'd left my phone right as the metro pulled up to ship me off uptown, and instantly I felt a weight lifted off my shoulders.

Well, not instantly, at first I was scared because I wouldn't know if I'd be late or not, but once the train took off and "The World is Yours" by Nas started flooding my ears with the howl of the Metro, I stopped caring. I knew I wasn't going to be late, I knew I'd make the delivery, so I stopped caring. Then I got off at my stop and got lost.

I can get there fine, but never exactly stick the landing. Whatever.

I get out and start crawling up L St looking for the conservative hotbed that is the Washington Post(which also makes me wonder why they'd be reviewing environmental books). An old Gray-head gave me directions that sent me walking back in the direction, so I must've been around the same block around three times.

Then I found out the post was just another block down from where I'd been.



The delivery went off fine, then my legs carried me to the j.o.b. And I settled into a slow day, wrote many emails, sent out my first newsletter, and then I met with Kate and Chris, my supervisors for lunch.

Yo. Free Szechwan Beef at a nice resturant is the greatest(props to Allianz, ya'll my homeskillets). More importantly I got to bounce my frustrations with college life and city life off the Supe's.

One of the major beefs I have with my school is a lack of social conciousness. It claims to be diverse, but it's just multi-cultural. The difference? In my book, a diverse community understands the sum of its parts--that is, the people understand the cultural customs of the other communities within it. If that's not present in a community, it's just multi-cultural, because it just has alot of pretty peices that don't go together.

My college is multi-cultural. This is not a good thing.

I also started to brainstorm what I'd be doing for a business plan to move some of the organization's books on out to college students. So expect me to slip a proposal by you all(all 5 of you that will read this) in the near future.


Business aside, I saw Star Trek tonight.

I would Uhura.

Oh, and the acting was great.

Peace y'all.

No Time

Left my cellphone at home today. I was rushing out.

Man, lemme tell you. To be absent of time was great.

But I'm gonna go catch a movie now, so I'll say more when I get back.

Peace.

1st Day - Tuesday the 26th

Before we get into it, why I chose this title. Aside form being a Hunter S. Thompson fan, I think it describes my feelings towards D.C.

I'm alone here in this strange city for the most part, so the fear is obvious. The loathing should be too. But on the flip, like all cities this places leaves me awestruck sometimes. So interpret that fear how you will, but you can always count on the loathing. So what is there to loathe?

-Foggy Bottom turns off at 9 o'clock. I haven't had a curfew in a long time, what's the deal?
-I know next to no one here.
-I have a job.

And what's there to fear?

-I have a job(Definitely awestruck on that one).
-I live down the street from Obama.
-Arlington Cemetary has a high crime rate?
Finally
-I've once more been exposed to depression that addicts and the homeless breathe.


I'm a city-goer by birth, I come from the murky swamps of New Orleans. For some reason I left those swamps to go to college in Middleofnowhere, Vermont. (Go Panthers.) I'm an English major, that being said, I need to know as many people as possible--just in case I fail as a writer I'll have people to mooch off.

That said, thanks to the good people at the company and a former, extremely nice, talented, amazing, madflytasticbombastic boss, and a really smooth Reverend who speaks German, I recieved an internship in Publicity and Marketing.

If you've ever worked in those fields, I'm feeling your pain right now.

So, today was my first day. I'll sum it up using AIM conversations because I'm tired.
Danni (6:53:13 PM): so how was it?
Me (6:53:23 PM): XD
Me (6:53:26 PM): It was interesting.
Danni (6:53:37 PM): do tell..
Me (6:53:39 PM): me and my boss went to a meeting with an author as soon as I got there.
Me (6:53:52 PM): Then we came back and did the "office tour" thanngg...
Me (6:54:02 PM): Then I went out to lunch with my old boss, came back and did Intern stuff.
Me (6:54:09 PM): Wrote emails, did research, blah blah blah.
Me (6:54:18 PM): *Censored hatred of office work(Don't fire me)*
Me (6:54:32 PM): I'm going to be writing a blog for the internship as part of my fellowship stipulations.
Me (6:54:36 PM): So look out for it.
Me (6:54:50 PM): Tonight...

I step off the metro and find myself in Dupont Circle, searching for my job. I walk three blocks in the wrong direction before I catch on. Then I walk six back and find the place. Within a minute of stepping in I'm right back on the street with my supervisor to meet with an company author. On the way we make small talk. I can tell that she has to be all over the place, so my goal will be filling in the gaps.

We get to this stuffy, upper-crust(I mean Nobel Peace Prize worthy) hotel to meet the author. There's a suit policy in effect, but I'm sweater and oxford'd from the waist up and poorman jean'd and shoe'd from the waist down. We meet our videographer, John(who's awesome) and the author Robert Glennon, who's lit. babies include Water Follies and most recent Unquenchable (Shamless plug #1). The meeting goes off without a hitch, I'm left pondering my water use every time I use google(But I'll go into that at the end of the week.).

Then it's back to the office to do interny stuff, right? Nope.

My former boss Kate sweeps me around the office then we're off for lunch. I can dig it, baby.

Had my first bowl of Pad Thai, I'm proud to say I'm hooked. Talked, then we went back and lodged ourselves in our respective work cubes. Today mainly consisted of researching articles relevant to books and an online seminar(webinar?) we're trying to promote. Tomorrow I'll be putting it all together in a newsletter.



On the more social side, I went out to Busboys and Poets tonight. Not familiar? It's a local poetry spot that people flock to like Mecca apparently. Your author is also spoken word poet, so he went to do his thang.

Only the tickets had all sold out by 5 o'clock. I arrived at 8 since the event started at 9. Well, so much for being early, right? I stuck it out trying to see if I could perform, but, no dice. All the same, I got to see people perform. It was nice, since going to school in Vermont I'd been estranged from spoken word communities(and the black communities that produce them) so it was revitalizing. I won't speak any evil yet, I'm not familiar with this part of the country's scene.

All in all, it was good. And I'd forgotten how pretty Black women in the city were. That was wonderful. Then I wandered home around 11PM grabbed food, and booked it back to my apartment where my roommate was about to conk out. Now I'm gonna conk out.

Talk more tomorrow, or later during the week.

Peace ya'll.