We had a pretty cool day of lectures. How to start an imprint. A panel of agents. And a best seller who gave us advice on personal finance. Her first tip for us was to move back home for a year to save money. Although I see its logic, publishing is changing so fast that if I waited a year to try to break into it, most of the stuff I learned this year will be old hat. I don't want to waste this expensive knowledge.
After class, we went to the alumni party. Before I even left my room, I managed to spill Hot Pocket down the sleeve of my only nice shirt. It was not only boiling hot but a cheesey color that doesn't blend in well with white. I shouldn't own nice things.
At the party, I met up with my friend who graduated from this program a few years ago. I chatted with her friends to see what's going on in publishing. Penguin's not really hiring, but this one place that does a lot of webwork will soon. Also, I learned do not get a broker to find a place to live. And it's okay to look for a place to live before getting a job because you can always sublet.
I hung out with my magazine group for a while as we mused on how awkward this was since all the current students talk to current students and alumni talk to alumni. Afterward, some alumni and current students were going out to some bar and I was invited to go. Logic says I should have gone because that's where "the real networking" happens, but I opted out because I don't like bars and my foot hurt because nice shoes had given me a big blister.
In Walgreens (I was getting vitamins because my roommates now have the illness that everyone else in the program seems to have), I ran into one of my friends from the mag group and she wasn't going out to the bars with the alumni either, so I felt like less of a loser.
There was a funny moment in the elevator where it was just me and this other girl who'd also just gone shopping. Setting her bag down, I heard the clink of a bunch of wine bottles (we live next door to the wine store) and I thought Pft, somebody's gonna have a good night. Then I set down my bag and it made the sound of vitamins in a pill bottle. Maybe a little bit of a loser.
After class, we went to the alumni party. Before I even left my room, I managed to spill Hot Pocket down the sleeve of my only nice shirt. It was not only boiling hot but a cheesey color that doesn't blend in well with white. I shouldn't own nice things.
At the party, I met up with my friend who graduated from this program a few years ago. I chatted with her friends to see what's going on in publishing. Penguin's not really hiring, but this one place that does a lot of webwork will soon. Also, I learned do not get a broker to find a place to live. And it's okay to look for a place to live before getting a job because you can always sublet.
I hung out with my magazine group for a while as we mused on how awkward this was since all the current students talk to current students and alumni talk to alumni. Afterward, some alumni and current students were going out to some bar and I was invited to go. Logic says I should have gone because that's where "the real networking" happens, but I opted out because I don't like bars and my foot hurt because nice shoes had given me a big blister.
In Walgreens (I was getting vitamins because my roommates now have the illness that everyone else in the program seems to have), I ran into one of my friends from the mag group and she wasn't going out to the bars with the alumni either, so I felt like less of a loser.
There was a funny moment in the elevator where it was just me and this other girl who'd also just gone shopping. Setting her bag down, I heard the clink of a bunch of wine bottles (we live next door to the wine store) and I thought Pft, somebody's gonna have a good night. Then I set down my bag and it made the sound of vitamins in a pill bottle. Maybe a little bit of a loser.
1 comment:
As much as you make me laugh about your elevator experience, you're most definitely NOT a loser. You happen to be smarter than most and you're in the minority in that respect. That's my opinion, anyway. But, who am I, just your mom.
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