“Why Don’t You Just Get Another Job?” How A Freelance Writer Makes A Living

I promised I would answer the question "why don’t I just get another job?" this month, so now I have to sit down and hash it out. First: any discussion of you need to get another job has to start with the idea that you don’t get jobs. Instead, you are given jobs. You can pitch for jobs, or you can apply for jobs, but in the end, the decision about which job you get is rarely yours to make.

The Evolution of Understanding How to Get a Job

How 2 get 1 job.

How to Actually Get a Job

Jeff is an economist in Washington, D.C. After a six month job search, he’s got some advice for finding a new job. He is very smart, and his advice is very smart.

To start, he writes, do anything:

1. Get something current on your resume. Now. No one will talk you if your plate is empty. Employers think you are a pariah if there is a blank space for your current position. When I returned to Washington, D.C., in March 2013, I already had a gap in my resume. I almost never got to explain this gap until I got something to fill it (with a part-time opportunity in my field that started in July). After that, responses to my resume were more enthusiastic and my interviews were more successful. Even if you are waiting tables or waiting out a big life event, volunteer or consult part-time in your field (or on the edges of it). You will be more desirable if you seem already desirable.

More here.

Should You Apply for That Job?

Yes apply for that job.

Thoughts While Taking a Copyediting Test

This is just a formality right?

New Job Gotten

I've been offered a new job. A great one. At a great company. It just happened. In an email. Poof, email, inbox ticked up by 1, poof, job, for you. "We liked you so much, we..."

1 Thing Is a Tragic Misstep in Evolution

1 thing 2 do.

Ways to Figure Out Who You Are Really and What You Want in Life

How to find the job 4 you.

I Didn’t Think Art Could Make Me Rich, But I Thought It Might Pay Some Very Cheap Rent (Nope)

After graduating college, I pulled together a poetry tour of the East Coast with three friends. We couch-surfed and split small sums from homemade book sales and venue entry fees. Our biggest check—$2,000—came from working with a small city’s public library. That money made it possible for us to break even after a month on the road, but only just. It was a start, we thought.

Years later, one friend is in graduate school for archival science; another is in school to become a Unitarian Universalist minister; and the third works at cash-for-gold stand in the mall. I schedule appointments at the office of a moving company.

None of us have been able to rely on writing as a sole source of income. None of us have jobs in the arts that pay our rent. There was a time when this would have surprised me.