Part 7

posted Dec 5, 2011, 12:01 PM by Terrence Moss   [ updated Dec 15, 2011, 7:59 AM ]

I understand the realities. I just don’t care. I genuinely don’t care.

I don’t care that being black, gay and unemployed might work against me. It might not.

I don’t care that I should secure some income “just in case”. I may not have to.

I don’t care that there’s a lot of competition out there. I don’t need to outshine them. I just need the right person or people to discover my work and be impressed enough to say, “hey, come write with us.”

 I don’t care that writing isn’t the most secure field to enter into. Nothing’s secure these days.

I don’t care that it’s hard to make money writing. It’s what I want to do. Plain and simple.

Reality is fear. There was a time when getting fired or laid off was the worst thing that could happen to me. And then I quit and lived in NY with no job. And then I came back to LA with no job. And then I got a job. And then I was transferred to Massachusetts. And then I quit. And then I came back to LA. And then I got a job. And then I was laid off. And my world didn’t end.

Midway through my “storied” ten-year advertising career, I used to marvel at the audacity of young people fresh out of college entering the work force with a sense of entitlement that they should be able to dress how they want, come in when they want, take lunch as long as they want, leave when they want and make $50K with stock options, a 401K and a signing bonus – especially in advertising.

I feel like those young people – only I’m older and more experienced. I feel audacious enough to be the kind of writer I want to be instead of just taking anything to get my foot in the door. I see a lot of job listings for pop culture and celebrity gossip writers, but I could give less of a shit about Justin Bieber, Beyonce and the Kardashians. That’s not what I write about. That’s not what I care about.

I feel audacious enough to think that someone might actually pay me more money to write than I EVER made in advertising to do what I’m already doing.

I feel audacious enough to think that my work can cross boundaries of race, age and sexual orientation on a wider scale than it already has. Some of the most enthusiastic feedback for the gay Erick stories comes from straight white males.

I feel audacious enough to say that anything is possible. And it will all be possible and I will have this audacity unless reality does come in to flush both down the toilet.

If that happens, I’ll deal with it then because I can only prepare for so much.