Last night Terry and I watched The Freedom Writers on cable. It was great, and kind of made me wish I was a poor ghetto kid living in the L.A. projects, so I could write a book about my experiences, and then Hilary Swank would come along and get my story heard, people. Except no, not really, that would suck. Anyway, while I was watching the movie, I became aware that I was drinking from the Magic Replenishing Wine Glass that lives in our house, and the result of that little “drinkin’ on a school night” experience is that today? Sucks. Especially given that I woke up convinced it was Saturday and then realised that whoops, no, it’s Friday! Better get blogging!
Thank God for the Friday Five, eh? Here are today’s questions:
1. What is your favorite (toy) stuffed animal?
Internet, meet Ted, Ted meet Internet:
Ted has been with me since I was born: my gran bought him for me when I was still in hospital, and he is the first thing I would grab (after Terry and Rubin, obviously) if my house was on fire. You may think “Ted” is a rather boring name, but Ted would tell you to get over yourself, like you have such a great name. And anyway, it’s short for “Edward”.
He holidays in Cancun and has a secret life as a semi-professional karaoke singer. He appeared in this year’s McNaught Family Calendar (don’t ask) as “Mr September”. He rawks.
2. What do you think of stuffed animals as gifts?
Well, ya know, a stuffed animal is for life, not just for Christmas, so if anyone out there is thinking of buying one as gift, I’d advise you to think carefully. Who will feed it? Who will walk it? What about when it gets older, and starts to lose its looks? What about when it wants to invite all its stuffed animal friends round for a party, then you come home and your house is wrecked? WHAT THEN? So many considerations… definitely not something to be ventured into lightly.
3. What do you do with a stuffed animal you don’t want?
You know what? Even although I’m not one of those people who has a house-full of stuffed animals, I can actually be brought to the verge of tears by the sight of an unwanted teddy bear. In fact, once when my mum and I were out walking the dog a few years ago (this was our last dog, not Rubinman), we discovered a teddy bear lying abandoned in a muddy puddle. It was still there on the way back, so I took that teddy bear home, washed it, and then… Well, actually, I don’t remember what I did with it after that. Probably gave it to the dog, I would imagine. I expect it’s now in my parents’ attic, along with all the other stuffed animals I have no particular use for (and really – what use can they possibly have?), and also: every toy I have I ever owned. And some other stuff. (Note to my parents: sorry.)
4. What are your thoughts on the whole Beanie Babies craze of the nineties?
Did not get that AT ALL. Especially not when adults were collecting them, and getting all obsessive about it. I mean, what did they actually DO with them? Did they just gather dust? And where are they now, those Beanie Babies of the nineties? Actually, I don’t really “get” people who collect anything (other than shoes, obviously, and at least you can wear them) just so they can say they have every single one of “X” item. I couldn’t be bothered with all that, personally. Am lazy.
* Realises she has probably just offended a whole bunch of collector-people. Is sorry. Shuts up.*
5. How many stuffed animals do you own?
It’s just Ted, and I don’t really “own” him – Ted is his own person and don’t you forget it. Rubin, on the other hand….
So, a few years ago, as I mentioned in my last entry, I was given a mullet by the Hair Salon Down the Road – or the Little Shop of Hairdressing Horrors, as I affectionately liked to think of it at the time. It was the result of one of those last-minute emergency haircuts that no-one should ever have to subject themselves to: I had some big event or other to go to, and I woke up the morning before it with the certain knowledge that if I didn’t get a haircut THAT VERY DAY, why I would take the nail scissors from the bathroom and I would cut it myself, oh yes I would.
My regular stylist wasn’t available at such short notice, so, with a nonchalance born of the knowledge that I had never in my life had a haircut that wasn’t exactly the same as its predecessor (and this through no lack of trying on my part) I breezed into the Little Shop of Hairdressing Horrors and asked them give me a trim. No, actually, that’s not quite right: I asked them to give me a trim, a fringe and to “just shape it a little round the sides”. Now, to this day, I have no idea what it was that caused the stylist to interpret my “shape it a little round the sides” as “I want it all business in the front, party at the back, my good woman!”. But she gave me a mullet.
Being socially inept, I could only sit and watch in horror as great chunks of my hair fell to the salon floor. “Why, it looks… it looks like she’s giving me a MULLET!” I thought, amazed. And what did I say about this?
“…”
“It’ll probably look better when it’s finished,” I told myself, cleverly ignoring the fact that it could only look better if the GREAT CHUNKS OF HAIR FLEW OFF THE FLOOR AND REATTACHED THEMSELVES TO MY HEAD. And they did not. No, they did not.
It was only at the end of the cut, when my hair had been blow-dried and the stylist was showing me the back of my head (PARTY!) in a mirror that she remembered that I’d also asked for a fringe. “Oh no, NO!” said I, suddenly finding my voice. “No need to cut a fringe! This is just fine!” Just. Fine. That’s what I told her. And I paid. I smiled. I left the store and locked myself in the car, where I peered into the rear-view mirror, hoping that… I dunno, that they’d maybe had magic mirrors in the salon, that made all haircuts look like mullets, and that my true, totally non-mullet haircut would be revealed only through use of a different glass.
It was still a mullet.
I drove home and rushed to the mirror at the top of the stairs: still a mullet.
The mirror in the spare bedroom? A mullet.
The mirror in the bathroom? Mullet.
The mirror in the bedroom? Oh my good God, it was a MULLET! She had given me a MULLET!
“It’s not a mullet,” said Terry, helpfully. “Well, not much…”
Weeping, I climbed into the shower, shampooed my hair and then blow-dried it, clinging desperately to the vague hope that maybe, just maybe it was the way she’d dried it, and that the hair at the front of my head was just… just hiding, maybe, waiting to come out. But no:
IT WAS A FREAKING MULLET.
I am not ashamed to say that I cried. And howled. And tried everything in my meager arsenal of “making my hair look better” knowledge to hide that damn haircut. Nothing worked. (What I did not try: going back to the salon and asking them to fix it. Partly because only a wig would have fixed it, but mostly because… well, can we say “coward”?) And so it was that I went to my Big Important Event with the worst haircut I ever did see. And I swore that never, ever again would I book an appointment at the Little Shop of Hairdressing Horrors.
So, anyway, the whole point of this entry is to tell you that today? I got my hair cut at the Little Shop of Hairdressing Horrors. Oh yes. See, the thing is: it’s handy. And I’m busy, you know? I don’t really have time to drive to no fancy-pants far-away salon. And to be honest, despite the evidence presented in this entry (and also this one), hair isn’t really my “thing”. Shoes are my “thing”. Makeup is my “thing”. But hair? Not so much, really. As evidence, I:
1. Do not own a single styling product
2. DO own a few hair “accessories”, but…
3. Do not ever use them because, hey, washing it once a day seems to work just fine.
As I mentioned before, my hair has looked more or less the same for most of my life, and if I’m ever going out somewhere special and someone asks me what I’m going to “do” with my hair, I’m most likely to give them a blank look and answer that, well, it’s HAIR: I’m planning on having it hanging from my head. Y’know?
So, to cut a long story short, I had convinced myself that it would be FINE, that it was only hair, and that nothing bad would happen. And you know what?
Nothing did. GOD, talk about an anti-climax, eh? No, the LSOHH was absolutely fine. My hair is all still present and correct. I did not cry. I did not have to be persuaded not to wear a bag over my head for the next few weeks.
“It looks exactly the same as it did yesterday,” said Terry. Well, yeah. That too.
BEFORE:
I am rubbish at doing the whole “I am taking pictures of myself in the mirror” thing, so for my “after” shots, I proudly present…
So, you see folks, it is possible to get a hair cut, and still look exactly the same as you did before. But at least it’s not a mullet.
Oh, and the webcam whence came the blurry pics o’ the day? Came to me courtsy of Shiny Media, who want me to use it so that I – or rather, my disembodied head – can take part in their editorial meetings, in London. Given that I am severely phone phobic as it is, the thought of having to talk on the phone to multiple people while my stupid head floats above the room like the Dark Mark is freaking me out just a little. Hey, at least I got me a new haircut, though!
Because I know you all can’t wait to hear more about our adventures at Skyventure Orlando (and also because I’m too lazy to post anything that requires actual, written words today), Terry has put together this little video for your viewing enjoyment. So.. enjoy!
Because answering questions about myself makes me feel important, I’ve decided to start taking part in the Friday Five. And hey! You should too! I’ve even set up a whole new category just for this which means that I will surely do it once and then forget all about it. Here are today’s questions, though, which are taken from Friday5.orgshould you wish to answer them in your own blawg.
1. When were you the coldest you’ve ever been?
I am always cold. Always. I think I must have super-cold blood or something, which isn’t very handy given that I live in Scotland. So, I don’t think I can really answer that question because, basically I am almost ALWAYS the coldest I’ve ever been. (I did go up a glacier once, in Canada, when I was five. I can’t remember much about it, but I’m willing to bet it was freaking freezing.)
2. When were you the hottest you’ve ever been?
At the Magic Kingdom on the 4th of July 1997. I can be that specific because it was THAT hot. Of course, the crowds didn’t help, and neither did the fact that I left my hat in the car because… just because. The lesson, folks: only stupid people go to the Magic Kingdom on the 4th of July. And only really stupid people leave their hat in the car in over 100 degree heat.
3. When were you the tiredest you’ve ever been?
Travelling back from Las Vegas in December 2003. We had to go from Vegas to Chicago, from Chicago to London, and from London to Edinburgh, and by the end of it we were like the living dead. There’s a hilarious video of us all (me, my parents, Terry) sitting waiting for our flight at Heathrow and never will you see a group of paler, more strung-out people. I am carrying all my luggage under my eyes, just to give you a clue
4. When were you the most stressed you’ve ever been?
December 26th, 2003, waiting at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary for the blood results which would prove that Terry was in end stage renal failure and would need dialysis and a kidney transplant. Fun times, folks, fun times..
5. When were you the dirtiest you’ve ever been?
Ooh er! Actually, I wrote about it… It was the time we took the quad bike safari in Lanzarote and I ended up caked in dust, from head to toe. There are pictures of that, too, but ya ain’t gettin’ to see them…
* * *
In other news, I have made a hair appointment with The Salon That Once Gave Me a Mullet. Because I NEVER LEARN. The day of darkness is next Tuesady. Pray for me.
I need a haircut. Before I get a haircut, though, I need a hairdresser. This is traumatic. Hold me.
The thing is, I already have a hairdresser – or, rather, I had one. She is a friend of the family, and every six weeks she would come to my parents’ house and cut the family hair. (Not Rubin’s, obviously. That would cost more.) As of this month, though, Carol is hanging up her scissors/ shutting up shop/ no longer available to slap the back of my hand and tell me to NEVER CUT MY OWN FRINGE AGAIN.
So, I need to find a new hairdresser. This will be tricky because I’m not very good at having my hair cut. I seem to lack the “explaining-what-you-want-and-making-the-hairdresser-do-it” gene, and this makes every haircut a trial. And, I mean, it’s not even like I ask them to do anything difficult, either. I’ve had pretty much the same haircut since…. well, since always, really… and while I sometimes entertain brief flirtation with fringes/sideways fringes/long fringes, I’ve yet to ask for anything really, you know, out there.
(I’m not mentioning The Perm. Please don’t make me talk about The Perm.)
And OK, sometimes I turn up at the hairdressers with a picture clutched in my sweaty palms, which may or may not be off Sienna Miller (WHY? Why did I do that?) but I could show them a picture of Telly Savalas for all the difference it makes, because they always give me exactly the same haircut anyway. Always. And, lacking the giving-hairdressers-instructions gene as I am, there’s never a damn thing I can do about it. The conversation always goes like this:
Amber: I’d like it to look like this, please. *Shows photo of Sienna Miller* Hairdresser: No, you can’t have it like that. Amber:OK, just the usual, then.
Note the complete lack of normal human interaction in the above conversation. This is because I am also lacking the “making smalltalk” gene, so while all around us, stylists and their clients laugh happily together, totally Best Friends Forever, me and my stylist exist in a bubble of uncomfortable silence, broken only by awkward attempts at conversation:
Stylist: So, got any holidays booked this year? Amber: YES! Yes, I am just back from Florida! Florida! Stylist: Oh. Amber: “…”
GOD, I hate having my hair cut. I really need to bite the bullet and find someone to do it, though, especially given that my idiot commenter, Blondie, has totally seen right through me, and deduced the truth: that all of my ranting about the redhead hatrz is but a flimsy smokescreen through which I try to hide the fact that I am actually deeply ashamed of my ugly red hair, and hey, maybe I should do as she suggests, and dye it? Maybe I should dye it blonde, and ask the stylist to make me look like Sienna Miller? Because that would totally rawk, to be sure!
OK, maybe not.
* * *
In other news, the third (and hopefully final) migraine of the season rocked up last night, thus proving something I have suspected for a long time now: that I have a brain tumour and am going to die. Oh, it’s a fun life, being a hypochondriac, and by “it’s a fun life” I mean “It’s absolutely no fun at all, and I am totally going to buy those boots I want now, because what’s the point in denying myself when I might die tomorrow?” Yeah.
If you’re anything like me, the word “Christmas” probably strikes chill into your beating heart. If it was up to me, Christmas would be totally confined to the month of December: there’d be none of this “Christmas-carols-in-September”, “tinsel-in-October” and “total-hysteria-by-November” malarkey. Stores would be banned from putting up decorations until the first day of the month, and people wouldn’t start asking each other whether they’d “got all the Christmas shopping done” until a week before the event at the very earliest. Bah, humbug.
The fact is, though, that when you’re a freelance writer or blogger, you just can’t afford to stick your head in the sand and forget about the festive season until it’s almost upon you. Already I’ve started getting press releases telling me that such-and-such a product would make “a great Christmas gift”, and that’s not a sign that the PRs issuing them have gone crazy. No, it’s a sign that, in the publishing world at least, the run-up to Christmas has begun. Glossy magazines, with their long lead times, will be starting to plan their Christmas specials – and commission writers for them. Ditto websites, for whom having their Christmas-related content indexed by Google in time for the Christmas rush means getting that content written long before the 1st of December. Am I scaring you, yet?
Relax. You still have plenty of time to brush up your Christmas related pitches – we still have Halloween to get through after all. It could be a good idea, though, to at least start turning them over in your mind. Christmas comes but once a year, but the run-up to it lasts for months, and if you play it right, it can be one of the busiest times of the freelance writer’s year.
Five things for PRs to remember when they’re dealing with freelance journalists
I love PRs. No, really, I do: in fact, I used to be one. There are some PR habits that can just get on a freelance journalist’s last nerve, though, so here are five things we wish PRs would bear in mind when they contact us:
1. We really don’t like it when you call us to ask if we got your press release
I know your boss probably makes you do it, and I know you’ve been taught to follow up by making phone contact, but I’ve yet to meet a journalist, freelance or otherwise, who isn’t just the tiniest bit irritated by these kind of calls. Especially on days when they come one after the other, and we can’t get any work done because we’re too busy answering the phone and reassuring PRs that yes, we got their press release.
2. We’re not the picture desk
That huge image file you just sent us? It took twenty minutes to download, and it’s of no use to me whatsoever, because I have no say in the kind of images that get published with the feature I’m writing. If you have images you’d like to send, ask me first. That way you don’t break my email, and everyone’s a winner.
3. We don’t always know when the piece will be published – or whether your client’s “mention” will get to stay in it
Like any other journalist, we’re at the mercy of our editors. Because we’re freelancers, commissioned to write one piece and one piece only, though, we have even less idea than most of when the finished article will appear – or even if it will appear. Calling us repeatedly to ask “is it out yet?” will just serve as an irritant (see point 1) and won’t make us any more likely to know the answer.
4. We write about lots of different subjects, but that doesn’t mean you can spam us with every press release you send out
Most of us have certain specialisms, or subjects we’re more likely to be interested in that others. By taking the time to get to know what those specialisms are, you’ll have a better chance of getting our attention, because if you’re in the habit of sending out dozens of press releases every week, on subjects we have no interest in whatsoever, we’ll get into the habit of ignoring everything you send us.
5. We’re not all based in London
Being freelance means that we can work pretty much anywhere we want to – and not everyone wants to be in the city, believe it or not. So while it’s lovely that you’d like to meet up and sell me your client’s product in person, a quick look at my website will tell you that it’s going to be a very long round trip for one of us…
Coming soon – things for journalists to bear in mind when dealing with PRs.Well, it works both ways, you know…
As our blogs have become more popular, I’ve noticed a dramatic increase in the number of people looking to take advantage of them by using them to promote their own sites. So there’s been an increase in the number of spam comments left just so the author can leave a link back to their own site, an increase in the number of spam trackbacks, left for the same reason, and an increase in the number of people asking me for links – reciprocal or otherwise.
The requests for links tend to fall into two categories:
1. People looking for a reciprocal link 2. People simply asking me to link to their site, with no offer of a linkback or any other inducement to comply
The reciprocal link requests, of course, are part and parcel of blogging and can, if used correctly, be a good way to make connections with other bloggers and bring traffic to your own site. The problem I have with reciprocal linking at the moment, is that it’s so often not done correctly. I’m talking here about the owners of sites about motorbikes, say, who ask to swap links with my fashion blog.
Now, in this case, a reciprocal link between the two sites would be of no real benefit to either of us. People come to The Fashion Police because they’re interested in fashion. They’re unlikely, therefore, to click on a link to a site about motorbikes – or, if they do, it’ll be sheer coincidence that a person interested in fashion and motorbikes happened upon the site. Similarly, people visiting a blog about motorbikes, probably won’t click on a link to The Fashion Police, so the arrangement benefits no one.
All of this, of course, is just plain old common sense. Doesn’t stop people sending me requests to exchange links with unrelated sites, though, so if you’re thinking about approaching a blogger with a link exchange request, please, before you fire off that email:
1. Make sure that there’s some degree of overlap between your site and the site you want to link to, so there’s a mutual benefit in exchanging links.
2.Check that the blog you’re approaching actually accepts link exchanges in the first place.
I mention this second point, because not all sites are open to link exhange requests. At The Fashion Police, for instance,for instance, we no longer have a blogroll. Oh we used to have one: in the early days of the site we linked to anyone and everyone who asked – assuming that their sites were relevant to ours, of course. As the blog grew in popularity, however, it became more and more difficult to keep up with the requests for link exchanges. If we were still exchanging links with everyone who asked, we’d need an extra few pages to keep up with all the links, so, rather than picking and choosing which to include, we decided to drop the blogroll completely.
Every day, though, we get requests from people who’d like to be “added to the blogroll”. Interestingly, a lot of these people claim to be big fans of the site, which they’re clearly not, or they would have noticed that it doesn’t have a blogroll which they could be added to. Again: if you’re going to ask to exchange links with another site, spend just a few minutes researching that site, so that you can establish whether it’s approprite or not to contact the owner about a link exchange. Ask yourself:
Is this blog related to my blog in some way?
Does it accept reciprocal links?
Be aware here that most of the more successful, commercial blogs which carry paid advertising will not be open to link requests. As harsh as it may seem, they will not give away for free something that they can charge for.
What do I have to offer this blog owner?
As a blog becomes more successful, its owner is forced to become more discriminating about what type of links they place on their sites. The owner of a hugely successful blog, which has thousands of readers every day, for instance, isn’t going to link to you just because you asked: there has to be something in it for them, too. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t ask:it just means that you should consider what the other blog owner has to gain from linking to you, not just what you have to gain from the exchange.
Which brings me to the second breed of link requesters I mentioned back at the start of this post: the people who ask for a link and don’t offer anything in return.
These requests always leaving me scratching my head: they’re the blogging equivalent of just walking up to someone in the street and asking them to do you some kind of favour – at best, it’s a little surprising, at worst, it’s downright rude. Why should you do a favour for someone you’ve never met, and who is offering you nothing in return? Why should I give valuable real-estate on my blog to someone I have no relationship with, who isn’t even offering to do the same for me?
Now, you may think this sounds mean and uncharitable, and you’re right. It is. It’s nice to be nice, after all, and it’s nice to help people if you can – and the fact that people are willing to help each other is one of the great things about the blogosphere. The problem, then, is not the request itself so much as the approach. We do give free links to other blogs and websites, for instance: we do it every day. What we don’t do, however, is just link randomnly to ever single person who asks – and trust me, there are a lot of people who ask.
Some people try flattery. “I absolutely love your blog,” they’ll say. “Could you please link to mine?” Other’s are more direct: “I have a blog about xxxxx. Please link to me,” they’ll write, sounding almost like they’re making a demand rather than a request.
This type of approach doesn’t work on me, and I’d be surprised if it works on anyone else. Again, before asking a blogger to link to you, try to think about what they’ll get out of the relationship, and offer them something of mutual benefit rather than just firing off an email demanding that they link to your site. You’ll be much more likely to get a favourable response.
The title of this post is something of an exaggeration. There are, of course, lots of different qualities a freelance writer should have, but having spent the past couple of months editing a website and having to deal with other freelancers, I’m going to stick my neck out and suggest that reliability is the most important one if you’re hoping for repeat bookings.
What my experience as an editor has taught me (amongst other things) is that when you’re under pressure to produce a certain amount of copy by a certain deadline, reliability is the number one quality you look for in your freelancers. That’s not to say that quality isn’t important too, because it goes without saying that it is. But when I’m working to deadlines and trying to meet certain targets, I’d much rather deal with good writers who can be relied upon to deliver their copy on time, without fail, than fabulous writers who miss deadlines, go AWOL for days on end without explanation and offer up excuse after excuse for why they haven’t filed their copy.
The reliable writers are the ones I’ll use again – and again, and again, and again. They’re the ones I’ll recommend to other editors. The ones I’ll campaign for when it comes to doling out pay rises and increasing rates. The ones who’ll earn by eternal gratitude for having made my job just that little bit easier.
The talented-but-flaky writers, on the other hand? Well, I’ll look forward to reading their first novel (if they ever find the discipline to write it) and will thoroughly enjoy their sparkling prose (when they submit it), but I won’t be going out of my way to work with them ever again – and I won’t be recommending that anyone else does, either.
My point? There’s more to building a successful freelance writing career than just being a great writer. You also have to be a great person to work with, and in an industry that revolves around deadlines, you have to be reliable.
