Saturday, January 17, 2009

Becoming a writer

What does it take to become a writer? Do I have to give up everything to obtain the level of professional writer? This thought comes to mind every now and again, whenever I wish I was writing for a career instead of whatever I'm currently doing (which currently, and for the last six years, has been an IT manager and an institution of higher education). And again today, while taking care of my daughter on a day when my fiance was working, we watched 'Moulin Rouge.' The thought of becoming the penniless writer, sacrificing everything to begin working on a novel, came to mind.

I don't think I could give up my current lifestyle in order to succeed as a writer. It's a sacrifice that I couldn't make at this point in my life. And yet, there are so many stories trapped in my mind that I want to put onto paper, that it's tearing at my heart and mind. Whenever I get an idea for a story I jot it down on the closest piece of paper, and set it on my desk for future reference. The problem is that my current life and lifestyle don't allow me to write any good prose. My career in the IT world completely drains all creativity from my soul, and life with a three-year-old daughter saps all energy that I would have to do anything creatively. When was the last time I picked up a guitar to play? It's been about nine months (part of that was due to a broken arm too). But with a child, there really is little time for personal agendas.

And so I look back to when I was a writer, or at least the closest thing to being a writer. My last year in college, when I was taking several writing classes, and was part of a writing community. I would spend several hours a night alone in a small bedroom, of a two bedroom apartment, computer in front of me, and a white bunny at my feet, with the words flowing easily from my mind to my fingers. Usually a glass of wine at my side. I wrote an entire chapter of 'The Canterbury Tales,' in perfect Rhyme Royale, in one night 500 lines, in just a couple hours. I wrote one of my best stories while sitting in a hallway in a notebook, with few revisions needed before it was accepted into a rather prestigious class. And now... even if I find a few spare moments to write (such as now, kid is asleep on the couch, Col is out), I write and in my mind, it feels like I'm writing at an elementary level. I don't consider this good. It's basically a waste of my time.

And so I sit and lament, and wonder what could have been, or what could be, if I would just sacrifice what I currently have. Could I be a good writer? Who reads stories or novels anymore? It seems that people write to make money, or make their stories into films. I wouldn't care. If I could keep my current lifestyle and career, but also be a best selling author who didn't make a dime of money, I would sign up today. I wouldn't write for money, I just want to be known as a writer. I want to go to readings, where scholars talk and debate on what I was thinking when I wrote it. I want to lecture at universities, and have undergrads grill my thought process.

But no one cares about the author anymore. It's a lost art. And so I sit in my living room, fireplace aglow, blackened TV across the room, kid asleep to the right, pint of stout to the left.

Friday, January 9, 2009

Burning the bridge - An employee's look back on a prevous job

(TP) Lawrence, Kansas. - How many times have you heard this? Employee starts out at company, pours hundreds of hours into new ideas, implementation and large projects, only to have the company turn its' back on the employee, and ultimately forget about them. Ah, how cruel the business world is. And yet, that is the normal response when employees (read: ex-employees) usually respond to these types of scenarios: it was a business decision.

However, in this case it wasn't. It was a slight, whether intentional or not. I was hired in the late 1990's as a 'web designer,' and put to menial tasks of daily updating for a few hours per morning. Thus began four years of being several titles, and ever expanding work responsibilities. Here's the short list of accomplishments: website viewing went from 1000 to nearly 10,000 per day, two national awards won for design, three complete site overhauls, new inventive ideas promoted and used, online revenue started (previously there was no income from web-based advertisements), the processes were streamlined, time and money saved.

In the last year I was employed, a scant six months before I ultimately left, a special publication was produced. Inside, nearly every department was thanked for their hard work and long hours. I seem to remember coming in every Saturday that year to upload the latest information, creating large slideshows of pictures long after photographers and artists left. Special web editions were created every week, and yet there wasn't one mention of my department (I was the only employee, so I took it very personally).

About this same time, I was approached by the head of the entire operation, to consider moving toward an all automated, no design needed, template and hosting, that a third-party company would handle. Easy, simple, no work needed. I was completely against it, for obvious personal and professional reasons. Yet these warnings went unheeded, and we migrated to the new system. I also learned that this company had a boss who was best friends from the old days with my boss. It was a forgone conclusion, that before my opinion was solicited, this was going to happen. I continued with my work, never grumbling, as professional as I always was.

I left a few months later after taking a job in another state. I left the website in decent hands, a person who I didn't pick, didn't mold, but had no objections to taking over, for in reality, a monkey with mental problems could have done the work. No longer was there a need for design or implementation, just simple cut and paste commands. This person left the position a few months later, however when he was on the way out, they offered him a position, a full-time position. Even when he said he was leaving the town for a city 2 hours away, they told him he could work remotely make extra cash on the side to update when needed. Never was such an offer made to me.

The final nail came earlier this summer. A reunion of sorts, celebrating the hundred years of operation, invitations went out to everyone who had worked at the organization. Obscure people from decades ago were invited. Some people there knew where to find me, as they had 'under the table' asked for my assistance a handful of times. I learned of this reunion roughly three days prior, when invitations had gone out several weeks earlier.

There had only been one web designer before me, and there has only been one since. No one had spent more years there than me. I was the designer, Lead Web Designer, Web Editor, Online Content Manager, during the height of the internet boom. I took that site from the depths of 'who cares about this place' to 'this is how we get information in the 21st century.' I pulled this site into the newest and best, latest possible design implementation. And what do I have to show for it? A coffee mug (won through a contest), a lousy t-shirt (stolen for me, when I was told to pay $9 for one) and a picture book without reference to the hard work and long hours I worked to produce the product.

The company is still moving along. There hasn't been any new web features since I left nearly half a dozen years ago. The newest aspects of the web have long passed this site, and the powers that be in the organization are finally coming to grips with the fact that they made a bad decision in moving toward this third-party hosting and design. Long ago I stopped feeling good about saying, 'I told you so,' because they are in an industry that needs, must, stay at the front of the web revolution, because their days are numbered otherwise. Their bread and butter will be gone in the next decade, probably less. Whereas I am now in a position where my future thinking and research is a bonus, they are crippled, a dinosaur in the modern world.

And so, while I still list my achievements on my resume, consider a choice few acquaintances and friends and still value many of the memories obtained through my work therein, I will no longer visit the website, nor care to hear about the demise since I left and pitifully shake my head at management gone bad and old. That's exactly what it is: management gone bad and management gone old.

Thoughts on the NY Yankees

I don't live in New York City, so you can count me as one of the 295 Million people who don't like the Yankees. How did I come up with that number? At the time of this post, the US Census listed 305 million people in the US, and I figure there are about 10 million living in NY, some who are Mets fans and don't like the Yankees, but those Mets fans are canceled out by those who are outside NY, and for some reason have jumped on the Yankee's bandwagon as their favorite team. Anyway, I don't like the Yankees, and I'm in the majority (did I jump the bandwagon? No, people just don't like the Yankees).

My love for baseball as a whole trumps my view of the Yankees. There is a problem here: the salary cap in baseball doesn't work. Is this the fault of the Yankees? No. They have the money and rightfully they should spend it to put the best team possible on the field. They can do it year after year, because they make money. MLB is to blame for this. Their solution? Tax the teams that go over the cap. Oh you can go over the cap, but you're going to have to pay for it, and then spread that tax around to the other teams. So what? If the Yankees spend the money, and win the World Series every year because they outspend the other teams, $20 million dollars that is shared between the other 31 teams is not going to do any good. That won't even pay for the signing bonus on a draft pick. The rule is the problem, not the Yankees spending.

Now, I do have a problem with the Yankees spending (listen up MLB... FIX THE RULE!) It creates a completely unbalanced league (what's the word... parity). The excuse is that the Yankees are putting the best team out there for their fans, at the same time, making anti-fans out of every other cities fans. And the argument goes: why don't the other teams spend that much? Two reasons: 1. Keep the cost of attending a game low (which doesn't affect Yankees, Red Sox, Cubs... a few others), 2. keeps teams from over spending on free agents, and making bad deals. Kansas City could go out and offer $100 million to one player... and then when no one shows up to the games, they lose money, can't sign other players, become AAA teams. It's a snowball effect. And it can't be done in one year. An owner can't come out, spend millions in one year, and expect the play-offs. It has to be sustained for several years, five at least, for the correct elements of a team to come together. That's why you see the smaller spending teams occasionally win: they invest in their farm systems, spend little money on youth, come through and win. But when that youth becomes too good, they have to part with them because they can't afford it, and that player gets bought up by.... the Yankees, or some other team that spends a lot. The original team has to go back to breeding their farm... it takes time.

So what does this mean? The rich get richer. We continue to hate teams like the Yankees and Red Sox (and Angles to an extent) because they horde the best players. We smile when they don't make the playoffs, and we laugh when they implode. When teams try to out-spend those teams, we shake our heads and feel pity (think the Giants and Barry Zito. They tried to outspend, and wound up with a bust, but at least they tried). But they shouldn't have had to do that, if a cap was in place, and the big teams couldn't make the bidding go that high.

And me? Well, I'm a White Sox fan. I don't hate the Cubs, but I don't cheer for them (unless they made the playoffs, not playing against the Sox. Then I might cheer for them). The White Sox develop a good farm system, they don't overpay for their free agents, and they build a good chemistry team.

And they got rid of Nick Swisher. Traded him to the Yankees. Who are now trying to trade him elsewhere. In their championship year, the Sox were using three other cast-offs from the Yankees (they didn't seem to perform in the bright lights of the big city). And yet... with those ex-Yankees, the Sox won the Series. Instant Karma is gonna get you...