It’s been a busy for me in terms of doing my day job as we near the end of the semester but it’s been a dry spell in freelancing (it hasn’t helped I’ve had no internet for a week). I still haven’t narrowed my markets. I have a hard time since I don’t know if there is a need for copywriters in those markets or if I could break into them.

These were the ideal target markets:

• Education (specifically those companies that do exchange programs to other countries- education = travel = I know, I like!)
• ESL (I heard no profitability for this. We’ll see.)
• Long distance learning and training
• Education publishers and worksheets
• Small businesses (local ones around my area and ESL schools)
• Travel (travel agencies, travel gadgets, Matador, Boots, Transitionsabroad articles)

Therefore, I wonder if this approach will work

• Content mills for easy money
• Job Boards in Zhuhai Nights, Delta Briges, Shenzhen, Shanghai and Beijing
• Marketing strategy first on education and then followed by local businesses and travel and see which ones would work as I don’t know which one has a need and which one would be the easiest for me and my credentials to break into
• Crete copy for free to local businesses to boost my portfolio.
• I also hope to find a mentor/coach- preferably a freelance writer who knows how to write for international markets because that’s where I want to be end up to be

Other updates include updating my samples page, signing up for Writer Bay and purchasing The Well-fed writer, Web-Writer’s Guide E-book and Writer’s Guide to Query Letters.  I finished the Well-fed writer and it has been the best  book I’ve read on freelancing yet. It’s chock full of practical tips and breaks down the art of freelance writing that one can say, “gee, I think I have a shot at this.” I’m currently reading the Web-writer’s guide- I love the 30 Day Get Started portion as it tells you step by step on what to do for each day.

I’ve been telling some people I wanted to start a freelancing business. I should stop though because I haven’t even started making clips yet I’ve made a few drafts on paper. I’m scared now that I’m just going to be all talk, no show.

Photo courtesy of Acytylla

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One thing I had learned from my previous initial attempt at writing for a living was I should have treated it like a business then.  I come from a family of entrepreneurs but for some reason business was anathema to me.  I just did not inherit the family entrepreneurial genes as I did not possess business acumen.

Unfortunately, I realize now you have to treat any career like a business.

• what is your mission?
• what is your niche market?
• who is your target market?
• what are the services you have to offer?

are all critical things you have to consider.  So once again, the subject matter I abhorred so much in my life comes back to haunt me (like Drama 101.  Groan) and prove it is indeed needed in my life. As  planning is very integral to starting any business,  I have to lay the groundwork first .

Like my previous writing endeavor, I  again sought out mentors in order to cut my learning curve.  Since I couldn’t find an English freelance writer in the area of my city in China (if you are one and willing to offer some pearls of wisdom,  drop a comment or feel free to get in touch! I would very much welcome it)  so I sought the next best thing.

Entrepreneurs.

Entrepreneurs  are the go-to people for advice in starts-ups and marketing (them and con artists). Especially those who’ve been doing it for a while and have failed and succeeeded a lot. I was lucky to find The Simples- an entreprenurial couple who have their toes dipped in motels, condos, restaruants, advertising and real estate industries.

Mr Simple inspired me to commit many mistakes and that to survive in a business one needs to have ‘thick skin’ and fail and be rejected many times which I’ll have a hard time learning as I get discouraged easily. Mrs Simple helped me create a SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats) plan.

However, we both hit a wall when it came to my mission, services and narrowing my niche market. See I wanted to be Super Writer and become-

• an academic writer
• a copywriter
• a travel writer

or all three.  And this has been a recurring problem of mine as I always tend to have my plate full and spread myself too thin. This is a big factor why I failed in the first attempt –I get overwhelmed, get discouraged and I give up.

So dying as I might to just jump right in, start writing and earning my first dollar,  I would have to-

• research the potential markets of my choice. See which ones are easier to get into and have a high probability of success. Timing is crucial and depend on the academic calendar and holidays.
• choose the appropriate market that fit my needs. List my specific services according to that market, craft a mission statement and scout the rates for freelancers in this niche.
• Create a business plan. Here are two sites that offer great resources on that: Juanita King’s  How to Write a Business Plan for a Freelance Writer and Emma Larkin’s The Freelance Writer’s Business Plan
• Research how can I promote and get myself known to this market
• Research sites where I can network with fellow writers and potential clients

Whew.  My hands are just itching to type, query and submit as soon as I see all those freelance writing job board ads but I have to do this. Writing this down also made me realize one thing I would have to do that is important in this business and that is–

Learn to cultivate patience

Photo from Voice for Business

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I have not written for two years.

Guilty as charged.

There is only one reason bloggers just stop writing and seemed to disappear from the face of the earth.

REAL LIFE

In my case it was a cocktail mix of lack of life management, social gatherings of red wine, conferences, mountains of marking papers, one miserable relationship and ten beautiful adventurous ladies that needed my attention namely: China,  India, Nepal, Thailand, Burma, South Korea, Japan, Australia, Mongolia and USA.

In two years. Which in retrospect is not bad.

Posing in front of  Uluru, Alice Springs, Australia

In those two years many awesome and not so awesome things happened to me. Awesome ones include circling Mt Everest in Nepal, kicking up primeval dust while horse riding the Mongolian steppes, seeing naked monks in Burma, swimming with dolphins in Australia and seeing snow for the first time in the States. Not so awesome were a tumultuous relationship, losing my apartment, spending all my savings while backpacking and looking for a job in Australia, almost losing my job in China (due to visa issues) with only $500 in my bank account while I was traveling around the US. My life mirrored Elizabeth’s Gilbert’s Eat, Pray and Love except I don’t have a best selling book and a million dollars.

If anything though, I’m grateful what those experiences have taught me. It be taught me to temper my passions, heap a spoonful of cautiousness into my mouth, slam some realism into my idealism and gave me some freakin’ backbone.

It also pushed and motivated me to get some skills from my lack of life management

MANAGE YOUR LIFE

When something is not in my priority list, I put it in the backburner. Sadly, this happened with writing.

This year I tried to change that by focusing on some important time management techniques that I’ve written extensively about in my other travel blog.

80/20 Principle- Focus on the crucial 20% of your projects. Doing this, I’ve been able to focus on what I want to do and lessen the agony of marking papers of which in my earlier posts I used to complain a lot about.

Using a timetable – I invested a lot of time in planning my semester at the beginning so I could wipe out creating my lesson plans and materials. I also plan my first six months so I could chunk my projects and not be in a rush to do them.

Having a Circular Way of doing Goals- I could see how one goal is connected to the next.

Learn to pick up the pieces and start all over again.

In naiveté, I believed what a lot of blogs and books tell you. That if        you quit your work and pursue your dreams, you’ll get them.

So I packed up my bags and left a job, relationship, money and everything to go and pursue what I want. Risking everything.

And I failed.

I didn’t get what I want.

This is another side of what most blogs don’t tell you. All you hear are success stories. But you don’t hear the cautious voice whispering, You might fail. How come you’ve never heard it on the web? It’s because many people’s voices who’ve failed are silenced. Who wants to blog about their failures?

I have failed a lot. And I might still fail again. I do not yet know when I will succeed.

But what I’m proud of doing is to pick the pieces up and start all over again. And I realized that it wasn’t so bad. I got my job back, my apartment and I’m slowly getting my savings to the amount it used to be before I blew them off by working two more extra part time jobs. “Because this thing we call failure is not the falling down but the staying down.” -Mary Pickford

And I cannot afford to stay down. Life is too good for that.

“I had started with nothing, and if I now found myself with nothing., I was at least even. Actually, I was much better than even, I had had a wonderful time.”- Sol Bloom

And now? SIMPLIFY YOUR LIFE

Having failed, it was time to re-evaluate my game plan. I still wanted to write but perhaps it was time to try out another method.

I soon got overwhelmed with a deluge of non writing related projects, part time teaching work not to mention my full time job.

I was back to being all over the place without a focus.

After complaining about all this, my dear friend and counselor Dr AJ gave me a reality check and summed up my life for me.

I am a college English lecturer

I want to be a writer

And that just made my life a hell lotta simple.

So I’m cutting down on those other projects and trying to get my life revolve around writing. Teaching writing courses. Trying to get paid gigs on writing. But I’ll take it one step at a time as there is just so much I can do. Richard Koch of The 80/20 principle said, “Don’t try to do more. Just do more of the right things. [that] you enjoy.”

Life has taught me a beating. Instead of fighting, I bow and humbled, learn from my mistakes.

So here I am trying to document my journey in trying to get started in making a little bit of money from my writing. I might stop writing in this blog again, I might not. I don’t want to make promises. I don’t make convictions that yes! I’m going to succeed, since I’m following my bliss. Because we don’t know what will happen in the future. At best this website will serve to document entries on what mistakes a fledging writer/freelancer makes when she’s starting out. But one thing you must note. Even when I’m blogging or not.

I never stop trying.

So here’s me trying again.

Photo from Old Pictures.

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“I haven’t taken medication this year. But I’m well, goddammit!” She was trembling violently. The tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I haven’t tried to kill myself since two years ago.”

“No, you’re not well,” I said, calmly. I’ve asked this student to stay behind in class after she shouted, “Fuck!” and shoved aside her desk nearly harming her classmate.

“What’s the problem?” I asked.

“You very well know what’s the problem,” she shot back. She jabbed the air between us with her index finger. “You’re the problem. You’re the reason I’m like this. It’s all your fault.”

I could’ve slapped her. I should’ve slapped her. The little bitch.

“Is that any way to talk to your teacher?”

Keep calm. “Was it because I asked you to sit in front?” I said.

She said nothing but shot me a look of venom and defiance.

“You weren’t listening in class. I had to do something or else your classmates would think they can get away with everything.”

“I was thinking! I wanted to be left alone!” she hissed. “I –I haven’t been having a good day. I didn’t take my meds!”

And that’s when she showed me the scars.

“Look, forget this ever happened,” she said, rolling back her sleeves.

“Why, don’t we sit down and talk about it?”

She looked me in the eye. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I do, I might not control myself.”

A shudder ran through my body. I was definitely in the presence of a mentally unstable person. Oh God….

“My parents know about this. If you want, you can contact them.”

“I think you need a counselor.”

“What does a counselor have to do with this? I’M FINE!” she screeched. “I’m well. I’ve been well for the past year. This is only one slip-up. I didn’t take my meds. The doctor said I have this illness. Everyone has this illness. Mine’s just a little bit more serious, that’s all.”

I felt like I had been shoved into the pages of Prozac Nation and I was now breathing the black words on paper. It felt too real. It was real. “What’s this illness called?”

“I don’t know the English name.”

“Give me the Chinese name.”

“I only know the Cantonese.”

“What is it?”

She muttered something under her breath.

It could have very well been Blow Me.

“Just forget about it, alright? Can I go?” she said.

STEP TWO: HOLD YOUR GROUND

I crossed my arms over my chest. “You need help. You need a therapist.”

“Been there, done that. No good. I just need my meds.”

“Alright. You can go but on one condition.” I held up my index finger. I made sure my voice was firm. I wasn’t afraid of what she might do but I had to reach her somehow. “We’ll talk again next Monday after class when you’ve calmed down.”

“I am CALM! I AM OK!” She raised her voice.

I struggled to keep mine. “Obviously, you’re not.”

“I have ways to get myself in control.”

Yes, like running a razor to your skin and letting the blood seep out in crimson globulets and watch it dribble down to the floor and feel this exulted calm rush through you.

I was getting frustrated. I was getting nowhere. I kept steering her towards the direction I want to go but she kept going the other way. It was like hitting a wall over and over again. I was getting all twisted and I had to struggle to rein my emotions in because being around her intense aura of rage, depression, emptiness, blame and madness was too much. I was going to crack down any minute.

“What do you care?”

“I’m your teacher. You’re my student. You’re partly my responsibility.”

“So what?”

It was like a slap in my face. Sure, I might not like my profession very much but I’ve always upheld one of its clichéd ideals of shaping the youth of the future, of caring for them, of making a difference. Goddammit, that was the purpose of my life.

Kate, she’s right. You’re not supposed to care. Don’t care. Don’t get involved. Just let her go and fuck up her life.

Shut up.

“It’s my life. It’s none of your goddamned business. I decide what to do with it. It’s got nothing to do with you. It’s got nothing to do with my parents. If I’d want to kill myself, fine. It’s my decision. My life.”

I looked at her, this shaking wall of anger and pain and I could see it was nothing but a façade, nothing but a defense mechanism to shut people out. I saw a pitiful soul trapped inside —crying out, helpless, pained, abandoned, full of blame. I don’t know why she’s that way. I don’t know how many people have hurt her whispering false promises only to stab her at the back.

I only know there was no way I was just going to stand back.

“What kind of a teacher would I be if I just let you kill yourself? Because if that’s what you want then I’ll just say, ‘Fine. Go ahead. I don’t care.’ But I do. Because I’m not just some office worker. You’re not just a customer. You’re my student goddammit!”

She paced around. “ I- AM- SO- ANGRY!” She punctuated every word.

“At what?”

“AT EVERYTHING!!!” she screamed. “At you, at my parents, my classmates, my life, the world, everything! I am so angry!” She drew another deep breath and grabbed another piece of tissue from her packet.

I waited for her to calm down.

“We’ll talk again next Monday,” I said.

She stamped her foot. “No!”

“Then I’ll call a counselor for you.”

She sighed in frustration and paced around. “What does a counselor have to do with this?” she said again.

“That’s my condition. Either we talk again next Monday or I call a counselor for you. Your call.” I shrugged.

“NO!”

I held my ground and met her eyes. I wasn’t backing down. “Those are my conditions.”

“Fine,” she finally said. “But you are to forget all this happened. Forget today. And do not mention my illness to any of my classmates. Do not tell them!”

“Of course not,” I said. “I would never tell them, I promise.”

STEP 3: SHOW THAT YOU CARE

She grabbed another piece of tissue and blew her nose. I was so relieved she had yielded that all the emotions I’ve held back for so long broke out and flooded through my body. It was the aftermath of all that fighting, of struggling forever and then finally knowing it’s over. You can relax. You can loosen that grip you’ve been holding on tightly for so long. It’s finished. You’ve won. And realizing that, I broke down.

The tears pooled around my eyes. I needed release and it was coming.

“I need one.” I held out my hand to her, motioning for the packet of tissue she had.

For one brief instant, she looked like a surprised deer caught in the headlights. For one brief second, she unconsciously dropped the wall. A crack had appeared. It was nothing but a flicker and then the mask was back on again. As she handed me the tissue, I knew I had slipped past that anger for a moment. That was alright. I had been given a glimpse of the vulnerability. I was going to hold on to that. There was still hope.

I dabbed the tissue at the corner of my eyes. I breathed in deeply. I didn’t want to be reduced to a mess in front of her. Then that would make two of us.

I looked at her. This confused scarred soul. I reached out and took her in my arms.

Job be damned. She just might be playing me. She might be a manipulative cunt stringing her teacher. Those scars were probably the result of an accident but I didn’t care. I’d rather rush through the door of crackling flames and be deceived with sharp jabs of lies and treason a million times over than to stand calmly back and survey it with an ice cool sheen of apathy. If there was a chance that she was real, that she was indeed hurting, I wasn’t just going to stand back behind and let her jump.

She just stood there, not moving. But she didn’t push me back either. I released her and said, “See you Monday.”

“See you Monday,” she muttered and walked away out to the door and into the fading light of the sun.

I sat down, numb. Then I buried my face into my hands and finally let the tears flow. A migraine was creeping in. I massaged the temples on my head. I haven’t had a headache like this since talking with a schizophrenic back in college.

Stupid emotional baggage that comes with teaching. As if preparing for lessons, paperwork and dealing with a dumb administrative system wasn’t enough, I had to deal with a suicide case too. Last year I had a student going through her parents’ divorce, then a daughter who wasn’t loved by her family. Why couldn’t I have a cushy 9-5 office job?

I looked at her retreating figure outside till it became a blue blurry shadow.

I had my answer.

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Life is Fucked Up

I mean that seriously. If you’re ever caught in the center of the whirlwind that’s called life and it’s heaping up piles of shit at you, trust me you’re gonna get out of that whirlwind looking like a McDonald’s cheeseburger that’s looks as if it’s been squished on by the ass of a 600 pound man.

I am that cheeseburger.

Life has been keeping me away from my pen and keyboard. And it isn’t just me. I realized other bloggers have also been kept away by life. This time in my case, it wasn’t the stale old excuse of marking papers. It was the opportunity in applying at this great job that finally didn’t give a rat’s ass at my color. It was about grabbing this chance of getting out of censored China and finally living a new life. Months I’ve toiled in whipping up lesson plans and videotaping lesson demos and camping out on my computer, eyes glued on gmail 24/7 for any of their emails.

Weeks ago, their first letter arrived telling me that I’ve passed the first round and I held it up like a kid who just found Willy Wonka’s golden ticket. Then last Monday their latest email came containing the news that I wasn’t advancing past the second round and right then I felt I just ate a chunk of rotten cheese.

Sweet Jesus, life never seems to tire on beating the shit out of me. I’ve finally decided to get the hell out of my situation, taking the reins and getting the life I want yet fate doesn’t want me to. I’ve swallowed many bitter pills these past few months and that last rejection from that job was the final blow. I’m spent. I’m empty. I’ve given all I got.

That Monday I went through a whole box of tissues and cried like I had just ended a two year relationship. Those tears were friggin puke on all those bitter pills I had to swallow. I even went through the whole cliché of screaming, “Life’s unfair. How could you do this to me?!” interspersed with blowing the snot out of my nose and hiccupping. Not a nice sight to see. Well guess what, bitch? Life is always unfair no matter what. It deals you with a lot of punches. It wants to see how much you can take. When you decide to quit, you’re dead.

Life gave me a black eye. Pulled my teeth. Broke my lip and I’m stupid enough to come back for more. I might have been crying on getting rejected but at least I wasn’t crying on not doing anything to get out of my situation. Funny enough, those two both hurt on the same equal scale. Big sharp thorn stabbed into your heart a hundred times. No shit. You can choose which one you’ll have. Either way, you’ll still go through denial and depression. But hey, that’s life. Live with it. All you can do is move on. Que sera sera.

Pain and suffering. They’re only one side of the coin. And they’re necessary to make you feel human. They’re the extreme opposite of happiness and joy. We don’t know one without the other. One cannot be without the other. How would you know about being happy if you’ve never been sad? How would you know the truth if you’ve never been exposed to lies?

Just like I know life will make a better turn. The darkest hour is often before the dawn. And I’d rather hurt myself getting out of my situation. Failing but doing something about it contrary to never doing anything but sit around and complain and moan and wish things could have been different if I did something about it. Because we’re all going to die soon, honey. We don’t know when it’s going to happen. Time is the only thing that you can never get back and I don’t want to write another sobbing regretful entry that I’ve wasted another year of my life in my journal on New Year’s Eve.

I may have lost this round.

But I will not lose this battle.

So life, you better watch out.

Because I’m coming back.

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