So I'm hungry. For anything. I'm still working on the final chapters of my novel, sixty four months since I began it. Back then I was making the most amount of money I've made in my life, working in an office, designing medical, financial, and legal forms. I was vegetarian, didn't smoke, and had no life whatsoever.
As everyone gets laid off it seems time to make a go of doing something creative, something you've always wanted to try but was too comfortable to dive headfirst into. Write Club was born of this desperation and drive to do something new and find a way to promote myself.
It's easier to get people to listen rather than read. I've written some of my best, most polished scripts in the last four months, and talked with more creators as equals, than in the past few years. Hopefully we'll begin interviews on the podcast shortly to help promote them.
It's even easier to get people to watch things, so on that front I've begun getting together scripts to begin filming this summer with the man Boston Scott. I've got an actress girlfriend, a friend with the equipment, and a burning desire to make movies. All I'm missing is money.
I'm ebaying away my most cherished comics to collect the funds to pay rent for one more month. Goodbye original issues of Watchmen. Farewell Final Crisis, Transmetropolitan, Preacher, Amazing Spider-Man, and any book that might sell for a good price. At least everything's collected in trades these days.
I'm applying for every job on Craigslist (security guard scams and dog walking), Monster (graphic design jobs I'm not qualified for), and Mediabistro (photo editing gigs I don't want), besides begging friends for any hookups.
I applied to DC Comics, called friends to ask for them to put in a good word. Also applied for several other jobs ar Warner Bros. About a day away from getting an application for my local Starbucks. I'll probably bring my resume to all the local comic book stores. I wish I could be a waiter actually.
But tomorrow I'll be meeting Carmine Infantino thanks to Christopher Irving, who'll be interviewing him. My girlfriend lives around the corner from 177 Bleeker St, the address of Dr. Strange's Sanctum Sanctorum (at least til they evict us for not paying rent). And I've got a killer podcast with my oldest friend that's picking up steam every week.
Who needs to eat anyways? As long as I got enough cash for the next issue of the Flash and to get a ticket to see Wolverine on the big screen.