BLOG: Ambition – Virtue or Burden?

I’m an ambitious person. I have always wanted a great job that excites me, and to live in a stimulating city that’s bustling with like-minded, creative folk. I’ve always wanted to be madly in love.

I have most of those things already, so I should be counting my blessings.

But it feels like it’s never enough. Things can always be better, I can always do better (except for my boyfriend, he really is the best ever). It’s hard to stay satisfied all the time when you constantly see new jobs and cities and clothes. I’ve always considered my ambition a virtue – it’s good to want to continually improve yourself and strive for success. But it’s also really important to be grateful for what you’ve got.

In times when I’m aching to land that dream job and live in my dream city, I totally start taking everything I have for granted – an awesome apartment, an incredible, supportive partner, good health and work opportunities. I still don’t have that dream job, but I’m also still young. There’s time. It can be hard being patient and slowly working towards it. But I take comfort in knowing I’m trying.

That’s why I can’t understand people who don’t share this over-the-top ambition – people who are content to work in jobs they don’t like or that they aren’t passionate about. But if they’re happy, does it matter? No, I guess not. Also, sometimes I think we don’t really have a choice.

Recently, while listening to Coolio’s Gangsta’s Paradise, a particular line stuck out at me. “Too much television watching got me chasing dreams.” It made me wonder – has all the television and music I’ve consumed throughout my life spawned my epic ambition?

Which brings to mind this

You could trace it all the way back to childhood – Disney princesses in all their unattainable perfection; The Spice Girls having their besties by their sides no matter where they were; Sweet Valley High’s Jessica and Elizabeth, eternally poised and popular. I’m not saying I want to be like these characters, but I do wonder if seeing these and other picture-perfect lives play out on screen throughout my impressionable years has influenced the way I think my life should go. I mean, I know it’s just TV and fantasy, but it’s hard to stop comparing yourself to other people, even though you know you shouldn’t.

Life has been throwing me a few curveballs lately. But as long as I keep my ambition – and keep it in check – I’ll be ok. I need to focus on living my life the way I can and want to, not the way I think it’s supposed to be.

BLOG: Inspiration, motivation & doing what you love

One of the funniest things about being a freelance writer is how changeable your life is, how your busyness ebbs and flows. Last week I was temping at a non-profit from 9 to 5 and writing a freelance travel story plus cafe and shop profiles, morning and night. This week I have slowed down a bit to tie up some loose ends and set up some new exciting things for the future. Less writing, more thinking and strategising about writing (that ol’ chestnut).

One of these activities has been reading. Signing up at the Melbourne City Library has not only helped me feel more at home in this fabulous city, but has prompted me to pick up some good old-fashioned books again. My daily reading typically consists of news and entertainment websites, which leaves me with little inclination to switch to paper at the end of a day spent staring at a screen. But one recent loan proved hard to put down – Kelly Cutrone’s If You Have To Cry, Go Outside (And Other Things Your Mother Never Told You).

Part autobiography, part self-help book for the ambitious, Kelly Cutrone’s writing didn’t just speak to me because she is on the same plane of obsession with New York as I am (oh, but she is. See the first few chapters). She told her life’s story – featuring plenty of fashion, celebrities and other juicy attractions – in a way that imparted her wisdom. You learn from her mistakes just as much as her successes.

While she is a fashion publicist, not a writer, her ideas relate to anyone chasing their dream (job). Her writing was so inspiring that it got me thinking about my own, and I couldn’t help but take notes. Here are my favourite bits:

On worrying:

If you’re not what you do, then what you do has no business keeping you entertained at night.

On tough times:

Things will change: you won’t feel this way forever. And anyway, sometimes the hardest lessons to learn are the ones your soul needs most.

On being yourself:

Consider your whole self, and don’t be afraid to embrace everything that makes you unique.

On branding:

Your point of differentiation does not need to be edgy or groundbreaking; it just needs to be different, and it just needs to be you.

As a brand, adequate and normal will get you nowhere.

Selling the world – or your industry, or even just your boss – on your brand takes time… The roads of your dreams are not paved with yellow brick; in fact, they may be paved with rejection letters.

Oh, ho, ho. THIS.

On rejection:

The people who succeed are often not just the people with the best-articulated brands; they’re the people who respond to rejection by brushing themselves off and moving on, again and again.

On the big picture:

I believe I’m not just receiving teachings and progressing as a human being in my chosen field; in the end, I’m giving the best I have to offer to the world.

She also said the characteristics that drive success in this industry (fashion, but this can apply to most creative industries) are creativity, truth and commitment.

These are such wise words. If you want an empowering read to get you excited about the future, I’d highly recommend this book.

Or, you could always try a fortune cookie:

Photos from my Instagram – follow me! – sarahemj

BLOG: I’m in a New York state of mind, all the time

The recent end of Gossip Girl got me reminiscing. While I did briefly lament the loss of regular sightings of Blake Lively in preppy and pretty clothes and participating in dark, catty schemes, it’s not really the end. Gossip Girl will live on in the gossip mags and my favourite place, the internet. It’s just that the stories will be written by different people!

But this isn’t really what I began to miss when I reminisced about my favourite fashiony show as various tributes flowed in. Something else drew me to it so fervently. Despite Serena’s incredible masses of perfect hair forever remaining an inspiration to me (she will always hold a place in my heart as one of my Hair Idols, along with Gwen Stefani), it was neither just her nor the equally lavish clothes that forced me to gaze in wonder, as I did when I first locked eyes on Sex and The City as a teenager. It was the setting, and that place’s pivotal role, that struck me. New York City.

New York, I love you (a lot)

Ever since I attended a cult-initiation-like seminar on Camp America at my high school (I was 14 or 15), illuminating the wonders of the land of the free, it had been my dream to go to the United States of America. Not to visit or holiday, but to live. I knew I couldn’t have a five-star life like Serena or Blair, but I wanted to go to this place I had used as a reference for all my life, from TV, books, music, magazines and fashion. Everything I loved seemed to originate from the states, which is why I am always quite surprised when anyone asks me why I would want to go there. How could I not want to go there? The intensity of North American cultural saturation in New Zealand made me feel like I was living in a US colony, only we didn’t get nearly as many of the sugary or live entertainment treats they do. We were so very, very far away.

These guys love New York too!

I don’t remember the exact moment this feeling moved from an intense desire to go to the states to a burning, unending passion for New York City exclusively. Don’t get me wrong, I love many other parts of the US, but New York is always calling. When I finally went there this year, to visit, I immediately felt at home. The chaos and creativity everywhere all at once sometimes got the better of me, but I’ve never felt so excited to be somewhere, and so inspired by a place. It seems ridiculous. I know many far better odes to New York have been penned (I’m even reading one at the moment, which I picked up at the MOMA gift shop), but this is mine.

I’m far away from New York now, but I think about it every day. When we returned to New Zealand after our three-month visa waivers expired, I was numb with shock. I couldn’t believe I wasn’t allowed to just stay where I wanted to be, where I felt I belonged. I’ll never understand immigration laws. I met so many people who wanted to swap places with me, and live in New Zealand. “Can’t there be some sort of exchange program?” I kept thinking.

Somehow that For Sale sign makes the dream seem more attainable

I kept a journal while I was in the US, but only recently have I felt okay flipping through it. Of course I’ve used it for travel stories I’ve been writing, but it seems like finally enough time has passed that I can reflect without getting too down about it. At first I would get so depressed looking at photos of my boyfriend and I strolling in SoHo, watching bands in Brooklyn and tourists in Coney Island and walking the ridiculously picturesque streets of the West Village. But now I can put these photos up in our apartment in Melbourne and enjoy them, instead of hiding them away because they made me homesick for a place that was only my home for three weeks (out of the three months we were in the states).

I’ve met other stranded antipodeans, but also plenty of others who never really understand my attachment to this place. But Gossip Girl is just one example of how America has permeated my consciousnesses. These American archetypes become reference points for everything. Sometimes I look at my photos and think New Yorkers don’t know how lucky they are, but it’s pretty good over here, too.

I’m growing to love Melbourne more and more, even if it’s proving difficult to get a good job here. It’s competitive, but I think the struggle will be worth it.

We’ll be back!

BLOG: No Money Mo’ Problems: Writing For Free

The debate about paying writers for online content has been around ever since magazines began migrating to the internet years ago. It’s still a big issue, and any freelance writer will tell you it’s a daily struggle to get paid to write online. Isn’t it why everyone has a blog?

But the debate has been flaring up once again in the last week or so, including on two of my favourite regular reads, insightful women-centric blog-style sites xoJane and The Peach. The former is backed by savvy company Say Media and armed with the capital to pay a full-time staff and almost all of their contributors (except for one-off writers of a section called It Happened To Me), while the latter is a relatively new startup funded by the founder’s paycheck from two full-time jobs, who still admirably pays a team of writers. While these sites come in all sizes, payment is still hard to come by unless you can nab a regular contributing gig.

This creates an undeniable air of concern within the online freelance writing world. Almost every day the question of working for free arises – it’s like the industry is constantly challenging our commitment and self-worth.

A common argument from writers – and some editors – is to discourage writing for free altogether, from offering and accepting unpaid assignments. It’s fair to say that writing for free cheapens the whole industry, driving down pay further and making it even harder to reach a liveable wage.

I’m no different from my communications graduate peers – I too have offered to write for free, years after completing unpaid internships. Sometimes the possibility of joining the ranks of esteemed household-name titles seems so out of reach that you think (or say), “If you’d just let me write a couple of book reviews I could show you what I’m capable of!”. I was hit hard by the firm reply from one literary editor who said, “Never, ever offer to write for free! This profession is going to hell in a handcart as it is, without anyone giving publications that opt-out.” I was disheartened but admiring at the same time. I gained a lesson in self-worth that day.

Knowing firsthand the value of unpaid internships and “getting a foot in the door” (Holla, Real Groove! RIP), I remain undecided on the issue of writing for free. If it’s something a young writer can afford to do for a while, it can be worthwhile. But personally I know I’m at a point in my life where I don’t want to let that literary editor down.

BLOG: So here I am

This time last year I was leading a comfortable, stable life, working at a leading woman’s magazine in New Zealand. I spent most of my waking hours filing word docs, copyediting, fact-checking and dreaming up witty puns. It certainly wasn’t the worst job in the world – it’d actually taken me three years of freelancing, interning, blogging and surviving on various random jobs to get this full-time gig in my area of study, and even then it was as a sub-editor, not a writer. There were plenty of perks – working with words, seeing how magazines are put together, scoring many free beauty products, working with lovely people and earning a salary that allowed me to save. So naturally I was scheming my escape.

Nick and I in No magazine!

In April I quit my job, moved out of the wonderful, infamous Doll House (the cute villa I shared with my friends and brother), said goodbye to everyone and embarked on an incredible three-month trip across the United States of America with my boyfriend of four and a half years, Nick. It was a time I’d been waiting for my whole adult life, and the unshakeable feeling of excitement and freedom is something I’ll cheesily cherish forever. But it couldn’t last – New Zealanders are only allowed three months to tour the states on what is called a Visa Waiver, so on July 23 we were, extremely reluctantly, homeward bound.

Our Endless Summer did, in fact, come to an end

After spending a month in sodden Browns Bay, Auckland, where my mum now lives, getting more and more miserable about being so far away from the states (more on that obsession soon!) and having been plunged into the depths of winter after the best, hottest and most exciting summer ever, we finally booked one-way tickets – ONE WAY! I’d always wanted to do that. Except this time it was to Melbourne, Australia. Not a bad runner-up to New York, you might say.

So here I am, sitting in our new apartment in the middle of the city, fourteen floors up. I’ve never lived in an apartment, and I’ve never lived with just one other person before. It’s so much windier up here! Sometimes the storms keep me up at night, but Melbourne’s restless pattern of searing hot days crashing into thunderous, lightning-filled nights feels kind of magical.

After four months in this city – two of which were spent on friends’ couches, including a lengthy sublet – I still don’t feel settled. Moving countries somehow seemed like it would be so simple and easy compared to backpacking around the states. But it’s been a lot harder than I anticipated.

I frequently have my head in the clouds, so in my old (old) house I made it a literal reality!

Having been a freelance writer before my full-time job consumed all of my creative energy, I had been looking forward to getting back into my favourite pastime. And while I’ve gained some nice regular writing gigs which are interesting and different to what I’ve done before, they’re neither keeping the wolves from the door nor my mind from wandering.

Hence this blog. I’m going to start posting regularly about my life as a freelance writer, and all the good and bad that comes with it. The isolation, frustration and rejection, but also the excitement, inspiration and successes that can come with it. Because although it can be hard, as my favourite children’s author/illustrator and personal inspiration, Dallas Clayton, said - you’ve got to “dream big”!