It's been two long weeks since I posted here...
And when I say long, I mean LONG. I have been very busy.
Not only has work kept me on my toes, but I landed a lead role in the first play of the local theater's 2010 season. I play Bethany, a woman torn between the ghost of her dead husband and her new fiance. While being onstage is nothing new to me, being torn between two relationships certainly is - but that's a whole other story for some day when you're all bored.
I'm the youngest person in the show as well as the newest resident of the town - in the cast, anyway. I'm excited to be back onstage performing (it's been two years!) since I grew up doing shows every summer in Seguin, but this is a bit different. Most of my stage experience has been limited to musical theatre - which I absolutely love - but this is the most mature show I've ever done. My character's emotions are all over the place - which requires serious acting skills that I hope I have - and I find myself pretty exhausted by the end.
Please pray or cross your fingers that I can pull this off without looking like a total idiot. The curtain goes up in just under three weeks.
In addition to the show, I've also started recapping Spurs games for ProjectSpurs.com recently. I've loved the Spurs for as long as I can remember, but I'm still learning to get the hang of the sportswriting thing. I didn't give it a shot at TCU because I didn't think anyone would take a sorority girl seriously, so I've fumbled my way through a few high school football and basketball stories up until I asked about writing for the PS website.
One of my favorite professors in college, both a sportswriter and the closest thing I have to a mentor, always said that you can only learn so much in journalism school - you have to just go out there and write. As soon as I heard that Project Spurs was looking for a new staff writer, I decided to try it out. After all, I can only get better with practice, right?
I haven't received any comments that say I suck or tell me to go back to the kitchen, so I'll chalk it up to a success thus far. Is there room for improvement? Absolutely. I'll develop a knack for it one of these days.
To be honest, I'm just hanging in there... waiting to see what happens next.
In the meantime - my recaps are usually up the morning after each game at www.projectspurs.com - check out the awesome posts and Spurscast podcasts!
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Saturday, January 16, 2010
change of pace
Second blog in less than a day - strange, I know. I'm sitting here thinking about how my life has changed dramatically in the last year and decided I had to write about it.
Last January, I was eagerly anticipating crossing the stage for my degree and turning 21. I was starting my craziest semester of college; juggling 20 hours of class (which included producing for the TCU morning newscast) and working 25+ hours a week. I moved back into my sorority house and ended up rooming with a new member who I hadn't met until the day I moved in - essentially, I had no idea how the next five months of my life were going to go.
I was afraid I was going to fail.
That fear is nothing new to me; I feel it all the time. 2009 was a year of discovering that regardless of how much different and scary something is, it doesn't mean I can't handle it.
Fast forward to July - I was in the middle of my first summer post-college and wondering if anyone would ever hire me. Several friends who graduated before me were still unemployed, which left me fearful that I would spend the rest of '09 scraping by as I lived at home and worked temporary gigs here and there. Does that sound ridiculously dramatic? Of course it does... but consider the economic situation and cut me a little slack, please.
I landed an interview with a newspaper in the strangest way possible - through Twitter. While the interview went well and gave me plenty to talk about for my job blog with the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, I had this sinking feeling that I wouldn't get the job - it's virtually unheard of for a recent college grad to land a gig working for a major news outlet with absolutely zero post-grad news experience. I had defied odds before, but this seemed a bit much for even me. I was thankful to even earn the opportunity to interview and introduce myself as a potential employee somewhere down the road.
In case you hadn't guessed... I didn't get the job. I was disappointed but completely okay with it. My parents were extremely supportive; my father continued to remind me of his favorite line - "this too shall pass."
Pass it did, as I interviewed for two more jobs and got both of them. When I was hired to write full-time for a paper and work as a high school football sideline reporter for a new website, I was overjoyed. College wasn't a waste of time! I could use my degree - amazing! (The latter was actually said to me in church not long before I moved.)
The next big step was moving out on my own to a small town where I didn't know a soul. Sure, I'd met my editor and publisher when I interviewed, but I had no other ties to the little coastal town. Finding an apartment was difficult and figuring out utilities was even worse, but that's another story entirely for another post. Daunting as it seemed, I chose to relish the chance to start over in a place where no one knew me.
Four months later, most people know me by name but not by face... unless they work at Wal-Mart, since I seem to find a reason to be there more than once a week - usually because I forgot something. Life is completely different now - for a city girl used to going anywhere almost anytime, I'm still adjusting to having nearly the entire town (save for the 24-hour Wal-Mart of course) shut down by 8 or 9 p.m. It's 9:36 p.m. and I'm 25 miles away in Victoria, sipping tea at the closest Starbucks to my apartment.
Yes, I said 25 miles. It's been an adjustment... but that's life.
It's really not so bad. People are incredibly kind and most would do anything to help you, even if it meant giving you the shirt off their back. The whole town rallied around the high school football team this past season as they made their way to my hometown of San Antonio to play in the Alamodome in the state 4-A playoffs a la "Friday Night Lights." There are two Dairy Queens less than five minutes from each other, something that still fascinates me in this economy.
Life is different, but living in a new place has allowed me to try just being... Emily.
Last January, I was eagerly anticipating crossing the stage for my degree and turning 21. I was starting my craziest semester of college; juggling 20 hours of class (which included producing for the TCU morning newscast) and working 25+ hours a week. I moved back into my sorority house and ended up rooming with a new member who I hadn't met until the day I moved in - essentially, I had no idea how the next five months of my life were going to go.
I was afraid I was going to fail.
That fear is nothing new to me; I feel it all the time. 2009 was a year of discovering that regardless of how much different and scary something is, it doesn't mean I can't handle it.
Fast forward to July - I was in the middle of my first summer post-college and wondering if anyone would ever hire me. Several friends who graduated before me were still unemployed, which left me fearful that I would spend the rest of '09 scraping by as I lived at home and worked temporary gigs here and there. Does that sound ridiculously dramatic? Of course it does... but consider the economic situation and cut me a little slack, please.
I landed an interview with a newspaper in the strangest way possible - through Twitter. While the interview went well and gave me plenty to talk about for my job blog with the Fort Worth Star-Telegram, I had this sinking feeling that I wouldn't get the job - it's virtually unheard of for a recent college grad to land a gig working for a major news outlet with absolutely zero post-grad news experience. I had defied odds before, but this seemed a bit much for even me. I was thankful to even earn the opportunity to interview and introduce myself as a potential employee somewhere down the road.
In case you hadn't guessed... I didn't get the job. I was disappointed but completely okay with it. My parents were extremely supportive; my father continued to remind me of his favorite line - "this too shall pass."
Pass it did, as I interviewed for two more jobs and got both of them. When I was hired to write full-time for a paper and work as a high school football sideline reporter for a new website, I was overjoyed. College wasn't a waste of time! I could use my degree - amazing! (The latter was actually said to me in church not long before I moved.)
The next big step was moving out on my own to a small town where I didn't know a soul. Sure, I'd met my editor and publisher when I interviewed, but I had no other ties to the little coastal town. Finding an apartment was difficult and figuring out utilities was even worse, but that's another story entirely for another post. Daunting as it seemed, I chose to relish the chance to start over in a place where no one knew me.
Four months later, most people know me by name but not by face... unless they work at Wal-Mart, since I seem to find a reason to be there more than once a week - usually because I forgot something. Life is completely different now - for a city girl used to going anywhere almost anytime, I'm still adjusting to having nearly the entire town (save for the 24-hour Wal-Mart of course) shut down by 8 or 9 p.m. It's 9:36 p.m. and I'm 25 miles away in Victoria, sipping tea at the closest Starbucks to my apartment.
Yes, I said 25 miles. It's been an adjustment... but that's life.
It's really not so bad. People are incredibly kind and most would do anything to help you, even if it meant giving you the shirt off their back. The whole town rallied around the high school football team this past season as they made their way to my hometown of San Antonio to play in the Alamodome in the state 4-A playoffs a la "Friday Night Lights." There are two Dairy Queens less than five minutes from each other, something that still fascinates me in this economy.
Life is different, but living in a new place has allowed me to try just being... Emily.
paying my dues
The best things in life aren't free.
Being a respected journalist is far from free, much less cheap. I spent countless hours living in the journalism classroom in high school, trying to learn InDesign and Photoshop. When I got to college, I joked about moving a bed into Moudy South at TCU so I could truly eat, sleep and breathe journalism.
From the moment I realized that I was meant to work in this business, I've been warned that I would have to pay my dues.
There was the summer after my freshman year when I worked as a news intern for WOAI-TV in San Antonio. I was only one class into my major, yet somehow managed to land an internship for a TV station in a top 50 market. Most journalism internships are unpaid and this was no exception; I actually paid for the college credit hour so I could be the low man on the totem pole.
While I was never asked to get coffee, I had my other moments. I was sent out with a photographer to "drop off" the Blue Plate Award - translation: hand it out on camera. I didn't know this until we got to the restaurant and I managed to award it to the manager upside down. Then there was the big rig spill outside Bexar County that sent the newsroom into a tizzy on my first day working the assignments desk. I somehow managed to find a Red Cross spokesperson for a phone interview; it still amazes me that she was on-air with one of the reporters in less than five minutes. For all of my rough moments, I still think that summer was completely worth it.
Because of my natural drive to overachieve, I've consistently managed to be the youngest person working on nearly any journalism staff I've been part of - consider the fact I rushed through college in three years. Being the baby of my paper's news staff now sometimes means writing the stories that may not necessarily appeal to everyone on staff. In the four months since I started my job, I've covered water resources extensively - which scares me since I honestly have no idea what I'm talking about.
Maybe that's what paying your journalism dues is all about - learning to step outside your comfort zone and doing the scary work. Whenever I find myself assigned to a story that seems rather intimidating, I try to remember how hard I had to work to get here.
I'm paying my dues because I know one day, all of this work will pay off.
Being a respected journalist is far from free, much less cheap. I spent countless hours living in the journalism classroom in high school, trying to learn InDesign and Photoshop. When I got to college, I joked about moving a bed into Moudy South at TCU so I could truly eat, sleep and breathe journalism.
From the moment I realized that I was meant to work in this business, I've been warned that I would have to pay my dues.
There was the summer after my freshman year when I worked as a news intern for WOAI-TV in San Antonio. I was only one class into my major, yet somehow managed to land an internship for a TV station in a top 50 market. Most journalism internships are unpaid and this was no exception; I actually paid for the college credit hour so I could be the low man on the totem pole.
While I was never asked to get coffee, I had my other moments. I was sent out with a photographer to "drop off" the Blue Plate Award - translation: hand it out on camera. I didn't know this until we got to the restaurant and I managed to award it to the manager upside down. Then there was the big rig spill outside Bexar County that sent the newsroom into a tizzy on my first day working the assignments desk. I somehow managed to find a Red Cross spokesperson for a phone interview; it still amazes me that she was on-air with one of the reporters in less than five minutes. For all of my rough moments, I still think that summer was completely worth it.
Because of my natural drive to overachieve, I've consistently managed to be the youngest person working on nearly any journalism staff I've been part of - consider the fact I rushed through college in three years. Being the baby of my paper's news staff now sometimes means writing the stories that may not necessarily appeal to everyone on staff. In the four months since I started my job, I've covered water resources extensively - which scares me since I honestly have no idea what I'm talking about.
Maybe that's what paying your journalism dues is all about - learning to step outside your comfort zone and doing the scary work. Whenever I find myself assigned to a story that seems rather intimidating, I try to remember how hard I had to work to get here.
I'm paying my dues because I know one day, all of this work will pay off.
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