A Confession

Red hasn't posted about herself in quite some time. All this blogging about food and fun stuff has been way more exciting than the posts that frequented this site a good year ago--all that job hunting feels oh-so-distant. But Red was always acutely aware that the tagline of the blog was all about getting into magazine publishing, and that she hassn't quite gotten there yet.

...But what now?

Well, you see, Red has been doing a lot of interesting work in the hours of the day that are not 9-6 (and sometimes, just sometimes, on lunch breaks too). And much of it, she's happy to admit, is magazine related. There's plenty of good news to share, but she'll reveal it slowly... when the time is right.

For now, this is what you might want to know. All this break time Red's been taking from this here blog has been well justified (or so she hopes)--those few "free" hours in the day have one towards something big and exciting, something oh-so-magazine-y. It's an annual publication that a kind someone put her in charge of--a magazine for magazine folk, if you will--and the work has been gearing up to something really magnetic. It's a killer project--just what Red loves to do, knows how to do, and is still just a *teeny weeny bit* intimidated by. But what's the fun if it's not a challenge?

So where does that leave us? Newly-turned Editor-in-Chief Red has lots of work on her plate, but she loves getting the love from all of you. She'll be popping in regularly, in any and every minute that time permits her to, but maybe not every single day.

Is that OK with you? Your blessing would make her feel so much better.

In the meantime, while you think about it, maybe you should go over here... this recipe for nectarine scones sounds like summer in a bun.

Sliding Into Home Plate

Yes, yes... you're all due an explanation.

Well, perhaps I should tell you that last night I was offered a full-time job. That's right, a full-time job! With a salary, and benefits, and the whole nine yards!

Perhaps I should also tell you that yesterday I discovered that there would be an opening at the travel magazine where I'm now working... in editorial... and with a fantastic title!

But alas, these two scenarios intersect only by pure coincidence. The job I was offered, in fact, isn't even in magazines. It's the only thing outside of magazines that I've ever considered--PR for upscale restaurants at a boutique NYC firm. The salary? Average. The perks? Enormous.

I almost don't even know how it happened. An informational interview in June led to a job offer in September, and the time in between seems to have all but disappeared. Was this really meant to be? I feel like, by some twist of fate that I can't yet understand, I've slid into home plate with not a single second to spare.

I held off on sharing the news until all my decisions were final and out in the open. Today I told my mentor at the travel magazine that I'd "most likely" be taking the job. I'd already said yes, but I wanted to soften the blow.

It also happens to be that today was the first day I've ever felt like an intern. When I'd made it through all my important work and nobody had projects for me to do, I offered my services to whoever would take them. "Want to clean the office? There are so many things in the wrong place," I was asked. Let's just say I quickly cleaned off one surface and occupied myself with a task more worthy of my Ivy League degree--freelance editing.

And the editorial job that's opening in December? It seems heavy in administrative work and low on the editing duties, but with a 3 month trial in store with PR, the timing could work out if things are meant to be.

In my new role, I'll be an assistant account executive--a fancy title that lets me eat out for free as a job requirement. Restaurant openings, TV press appearances, and food tastings are all part of the description. Could a food writer find a more perfect mecca?

Alas, I'll be able to afford that killer meal--nay, it will be on the house! And magazines? They're still in my heart. And I'm sure I'll make my way there soon. But for now, I'll gladly pass on my intern duties and take the freelance bylines to myself. Only time will tell where this curvy old road will go next.

Secrets From Within (Part 1?)

The title of a recent Ed2010 post, "Where have all the jobs gone? They've turned into internships," makes a pretty solid claim as to the current state of the magazine industry. Internships are usually a big part of the pre-full-time-employment conquest, and in this career path that oftentimes spills over into post-grad life. But with things the way they are now, some report that their magazine staffs suddenly consist entirely of interns--that is, other than the most senior-level editors. It's entirely exploitative, but it's also rather puzzling. If internships generally require school credit, how do you score the clearly-necessary internship after graduating from said accredited university?

Ah, Red is sneaky in her ways. She's learned a secret that she'll happily divulge to you, dear readers. Credit doesn't have to go to a university... no, no, university students need to take off for midterms and finals, and though they work hard, they're not as reliable as suffering post-grads who are willing to do anything for that full-time offer. That's why major publishing houses will stretch the rules a bit and let you "work for credit" as long as you can show you're enrolled in any kind of class--university or not. Now, I'm wondering, does it have to be academic or can I just use this as an excuse to take cardio kickboxing at the local gym? Somehow, I think a class on Travel Writing might be more in order...

Opened Doors in Unexpected Places

Three days after TWC was supposed to come install cable and internet, I still have nothing. Hence the strange absence of yesterday's post. But since tapping internet is a bit more stable today than it was yesterday, I'll break my normal habits and post on a Saturday.



You see, the two interviews I'd mentioned a few days ago both went quite well. The paid job offered me a second interview for next week, and the internship (though unpaid) gave a great vibe. But the surprise twist came with an email from the Big Desireable Company that I've been trying to claw my way back into. An intern needed in the photo department of my favorite travel mag? Really? Sure, I'll interview. After all, I've always been interested in photo...



I arrived to the familiar building and got up to the right floor, plopped myself in the comfortable chairs and waited for my interviewer. "Let's just chat here--we'll be quick and it's a mess in there on Fridays," he told me as he came out, speaking in an Australian accent to die for. Sure, why not? We chatted for a bit and then he changed his mind. "Let's go to the back and I'll introduce you to a few people." As we wound through the corridors and made our way to the photo department, I wasn't sure what the signals indicated.

We pop into someone's office, and Mr. Aussie grabs her attention with, "I wanted to introduce you to Red, she'll be interning with us starting this month." I turn around and look at him, partly in confusion, partly in excitement.

"I will?"

"Sure, why not."

And so it is. Life in the magazine world warrants two things, it seems: well-roundedness and post-grad internships. I thought I'd be able to sidestep the nasty pattern that so many budding editors find themselves in, but alas, here I am, finding a way to get "credit" for an internship with a laughable stipend. But you know what? I'm actually happy about it--I feel like I'm making progress here, and finally am making my way back to that Holy Grail of publishing, the Big Company.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, those are pics from the new magazine... fitting since I'm going to be in photo now! Beautiful, aren't they?

Chop Chop

While my move has gone swimmingly, the cable guy has yet to arrive and install internet. I'm tapping today, but tomorrow we'll be back in full swing (I hope).

I've often referenced the terrible state of the economy in this blog, and today will be no exception. I woke up after my first full night of sleep in a long time feeling refreshed and recharged, and for once the phone rang after I'd gotten out of bed instead of before. My temp agency was calling--probably with info on the M/F job or my paycheck, I figured.

As it turns out, the magazine I was working for, too, suffers from this nasty economy.

All the temps have been cut, she says.

That includes me.

It's the name of the game in this time, age, and industry, but it makes it much harder to enjoy my beautiful apartment when my main means for paying the rent has suddenly disappeared. Good thing I'm still freelancing, I guess!

On the calendar now is an interview for an internship (we have yet to find out whether it's paid or unpaid) at a super-elite magazine for members of a super-elite worldwide club coming up at 2 today, and one for a fact-checking job at a medical website tomorrow.

And also tomorrow, a more upbeat post--I promise!

Dragons and Lions and Soup, Oh My!

I've officially turned down the first full-time offer I've received. Funny how things work out, huh? But when you stack a F/T job that pays minimum wage next to a P/T job that pays more than triple the amount, the numbers speak for themselves. No, it's not all about money--it can't be about money in this industry--but you have to pay the rent at the end of the day. And you have to eat.

Speaking of eating (how about that transition?), my Chinese roommate took me to an incredible restaurant in Chinatown for dinner last night.


Please forgive the unoriginal photography--I left my camera at home last night and kicked myself for it at least ten times throughout the evening.

Anyway, Joe's Shanghai specializes in soup dumplings. You might expect soup dumplings to be dumplings served in soup, but they are quite the opposite (and are far tastier than wontons). Instead, these tasty little packages are filled with soup and meat, so you eat them out of a soup spoon rather than with chopsticks alone.


Making soup dumplings seems impossibly difficult, but eating them is an art of its own. I wish I'd had this illustrated tutorial by Robert Zimmerman before I started, because it took a little while to perfect the technique.


Since the text is small, here's the rundown. To avoid an explosion of steam in your mouth, you put the dumpling on a spoon, take a small bite to release the soup and steam, let it all cool down, and then eat.

Luckily, figured much of this out on my own (and of course, with the roommate's help). Aside from the dumplings (which I learned are also improperly translated, as they're really called "little dragon buns" in Chinese), we shared a wonderful side of water spinach and an entree of stewed pork meatballs called "Lion's Head," named for its large, fluffy shape. The meatballs were particularly impressive--the cooking temperature must remain perfectly even so that they stay soft enough to melt in your mouth but firm enough to eat with chopsticks. Like the soup dumplings, they're very difficult to make and it's rare to find good ones.

Joe's Shanghai has become popular with Americans because its menu features traditional dishes such as these alongside americanized staples like General Tso's and Sesame Chicken. The people we shared our table with ordered fried rice and lo mein, and we looked over in disapproval. Promise me, faithful readers, that ye will never commit such a sin if I give you the address to this wonderful Chinatown gem.

Joe's Shanghai, 9 Pell St., off of Mott St.

One Step at a Time

So far on this blog, we've learned a lot about the perils of job hunting in the magazine industry.

We've groaned about how jobs never open up, unless someone gets fired (unusual), quits (rare), or dies (not altogether common).

We've whined about the stability of promises made post-internships (or blatant lack thereof).

We've gone through what feel like hundreds of interviews and thousands of cover letters, and realized that we're far more prone to making typographical errors as a subconscious way of self-sabotage when we really don't care about particular jobs.

Finally, we score some sweet freelance work.

Then, we score a part-time job that pays the bills. At a well-known national magazine, no less!

The next step?

A full-time offer, of course!

And have we finally reached it? It seems like we have!

But wait, there's a caveat... obviously.

The offer that's scheduled to come in today, according to the Editor with whom I interviewed, is a strange position that functions as entry-level editorial but pays like an internship. It's a great publication at one of the world's biggest publishing houses, and I'm sure it would open up lots of doors. Unlike an internship, it's full-time. Like an internship, it won't even cover my rent. With pay at less than half of what I'm making at my part-time job, it just doesn't seem feasible, unless I can wing some crazy negotiation.

So we're probably going to be forced to say "no, thanks," and move on. And the hunt for the perfect job continues...

Return of the Job Hunt, Sort Of

Whenever things look smooth, some bump comes and screws with your mind a little. I haven't applied to any new jobs since scoring my M/F research position--mostly out of courtesy, and also because it's an opportunity to wait for the Big Company I worked for last year to scour the market and find a place for me.

Funny how when I stop applying for jobs, though, I get responses from places I thought were already out of the question. And suddenly they seem quite interested. But I'm somewhat committed. At least I haven't signed any paperwork?

Today, the newest prospective employers asked for references.

One bump in the road becomes two.

What happens when one of your references still wants you to work for her but has no jobs and might not want to refer you to a competitor? And what happens when one reference isn't usable because she can't know you're still pseudo-job hunting? And what about, in an entirely different referencing scheme, you put your future editor as your to-be employer instead of your temp agent, making the management company for your apartment very, very confused?

The road suddenly gets bumpier.

But editors are forgiving, and they understand when you explain that the first line asked for your boss's name and that the second clearly marked your start date to be in the future. They'll forgive the creditors at the management company for their strange phone call, and things will only be a little bit awkward on day one.

And the unusable reference will be replaced with another--thank goodness for having a bunch of employers. She'll only find out about the pseudo-job hunt if something comes up, in which case I'll find a way to keep everyone happy. Because that's what I do. Or try to do. Or something like that.

And the competing former boss will send me a short and sweet email indicating that she's not thrilled to see me going other places before she can snag me herself, but will do what's in my best interest rather than hers.

So we return to smooth patch of road and walk along... knowing we'll stumble upon another fork soon.

Back to the beginning, sort of.

Those of you who've been reading from the start may remember the reason why I got stuck in this job-hunting predicament: the lack of openings at the wonderful company where I'd interned and been basically promised a job. It's been exactly two months since I got that blow of bad news, and it seems fitting that today is the day I go back for an interview.

Oh no, it's not exactly what you'd expect.

See, nobody helped me score this interview--I did it on my own. I've used none of my HR strings, as HR had nothing to do with hiring for this job. It's proof of one thing I've learned about myself--I like knowing that I am getting what I want for the right reason. I didn't want to play up my minority status applying to college because I wanted to be accepted for me and not my ethnicity. Similarly, getting snubbed for jobs that first time has let me figure out what I'm worth on my own accord. It's a valuable lesson and I've been happy to learn it.

So, that interview.

Let's put it this way: I've been a subscriber to nearly all of this company's magazines at some point or another. But there are three whose issues I've never been able to toss. Consequently, I lug a big box of magazines from one apartment to the next whenever I move, and someone (usually the person carrying the box) gives me grief about it. But I can't help it--I can't part from these issues, I love them too much! They're too filled with useful information! They're so pretty to look at!

And so I have a strange relationship with my favorite magazines. And some people laugh at me. And others--their editors--invite me for interviews.

Wish me luck!

Big Job, little job

Believe it or not, I still don't know about the Big Job.

After a follow-up email, I've learned that my resume is still on the table. I've also learned that I'm supposed to hear soon. But what soon means, I cannot say!

I did, however, score a little job overnight!

It seems that a big part of being unemployed (and keeping your dignity) is piecing together as many odd writing jobs as you can juggle. Keeping true to that style, here's official odd job #3: writing job descriptions.

Oh, the irony.

But I'm not complaining--it's easy work and good money, so I'll happily do it.

I'm just still crossing my fingers that it becomes something else to supplement a full-time income--and soon!

Ways to Speed Up Time, Part 1

It's a crazy morning.

The boyfriend is making his way to the city by bus today, and he'll stay all week. It's a good thing, because no matter what happens today, he'll be there for me. See, today's the day that I hear back from the Big Job. And yes, that really does deserve big capital letters.

I know my odds are fairly decent--I'm one of only six people being considered.

I know I played my cards well and aced the interview. I also sent in a brilliant recommendation. So there's nothing more I could have done. It's all up to fate.

But fate is freaking slow! So I've compiled a few ways that I could pass the time a bit more quickly today...

First up, a soothing bath. Or, since my bathtub is actually kind of gross, I'll just dream about this:


Honestly, it relaxes me just to look at this bathroom! A girl can dream, right?

When that gets old, maybe I'll get some use out of the latest gift from the boy:


Laugh all you want, but the detail in this book means full commitment, and that means no thinking about stressful jobs! Plus, whatever I color becomes a study guide for him later--really, it's a genius gift.

But if all else fails and I simply can't wait any longer without exploding, I have another plan.


I'll go to London! They're a few hours ahead, right? If I was in their time zone, I'd probably already know. So there.

Anyway, keep your fingers crossed that my next update bears good news!

Until then....

A not-so-much vacation

I can't explain how happy I am to know that it's Friday.

I may not be waking up early, going to work, and living in a particularly tiring routine, but being unemployed is far more exhausting than you'd think!

First, there's the fact that I'm juggling a million job applications at once, trying to manage communications with tons of people. It's a lot to keep track of, and it's all equally urgent. It's good training for being someone's assistant, I suppose!

Then there are my freelance jobs. I love both of them--but in totally different ways. One is comfortable, familiar, fun, cozy, and pretty darn easy. The other is exciting, high-profile, and really challenging. They're polar opposites, and switching gears between the two has helped me appreciate both of them a lot. Then again, as an EA I would be switching gears between lots of easy tasks and some really important, challenging tasks, so it's equally good prep work.

But then there's the sheer fact that I never turn off. I may not have much work left for the day--or the week--but scouring job boards and worrying about responses is a full-time job in itself. Especially when there's one to be excited about coming up!

So keep your fingers crossed that I get a job to relieve me of this vacation! I have a feeling I'll be reversing all those words eventually...

blAHHgging from bAHHston

I was afraid that coming to Boston would imply little progress on the job hunt. But with little to no movement on the job boards, I don't feel like I'm missing much. On the contrary, with a few applications sent and the first two sections of my copywriting project done, I'm probably being just as productive here as I'd be in New York.

And there have been updates on the job front! Check this out.

After replying to an ad for an assisting position at an Interior Design firm, I get word that I've been "picked as one of our possible candidate to be our Account Receivable Manager." My eyebrows tilt with confusion, but anyone who's willing to give me a shot gets my attention for the span of an email.

I read on:

"Your First Primary task (Collection of Payments)

1. Receive payment from our Customers or Clients.

2. Cash Payment at your Bank or any cashing facilities near you.

3. Deduct 10 % which will be your percentage/pay on Payment processed

4. Forward balance after deduction of percentage/pay to any of the offices you will be contacted to send payment to, you'll have a lot of free time doing another job, because this job is part time, you'll get good income .But this job is very challenging and you should understand it. We are considering your application because you satisfy our requirements and we are sure you will be an earnest assistant till we start running our branch office in your state.

5. You must respond to email and phone calls when you get the payment for proper instruction"

Ahh, I see. So money laundering I am qualified for! Good to know. Maybe I'll try the mafia next.

PS. I immediately wrote back saying I wasn't interested. The next day I woke up with pink eye. Does anyone smell a conspiracy theory here?

The weird gray area in between

Last week, I applied for a job fact-checking a big magazine's special Winter issue. Within an hour I got an enthusiastic reply, and the interview was set for Monday.

Monday came and went, and the interview was the most fun I'd had in a pressure situation. We browsed through racks of dresses, talked about boys, and found each other strikingly familiar...

And then the email came. The usual. "You're fantastic!" and "It was so great to meet you!" and then of course, "we hired someone else."

But then, again, "Do you want to freelance and do some reporting for us?"

It's obvious that I'm doing something right--otherwise they wouldn't try to keep my around. But what on earth am I doing wrong that I'm not getting part-time fact-checking jobs?

I think back to my boyfriend's med school hunt, and remember how he got rejected from schools because he was too good for them. Maybe my experience is beyond fact-checking to certain recruiters? Or am I just finding ways to make myself feel better? I don't know. But I'm fairly sure that the reason I haven't heard back from Sur La Table isn't because I'm not qualified to sell kitchen goods.

The conundrum is this: if you're "too good" to work the lower end part-time/retail jobs, and just a few hairs away from being able to score the entry-level jobs, where do you fall? And what do you do to propel yourself forward if you're stuck in the gray in-between?

tempted by the dark side

I've had high standards for my job hunt, I won't lie.

I know what I want: I want to work for a magazine.

I know what jobs will help me get there: fact-checking, copyediting, copywriting, online work, and so on.

And I know what I refuse to do: waitress, bartend, retail, slave labor, etc.

It might seem silly, but it's about my dignity and my own happiness. I won't work for anyone or anything that isn't going to benefit me in the long run or propel me into a better position. I won't take a job for the sake of taking a job. I'll find other ways to pay the rent. Thank goodness for steady freelance work.

Despite being so stubborn, I've lowered the bar from top publishing companies to independent magazines to celebrity rags. I'll work for anything that can be in some way, shape, or form, be considered a magazine, whether it be 3x3 inches large or a national glossy. I don't care. Just give me some edit work and an opportunity to write every now and then.

But how far can I keep stretching the possibilities before things become too abstract, too unrelated? What about jobs in PR or advertising? They sound fun, and they're interested in me, and they'll use my writing skills. My head wants the stability; my heart wants glossy paper. For now, I'll let them keep debating.

And interviewing, and sending resumes, and pitching stories. And keeping my fingers crossed.

a half-way offer

You always know that it's a bad sign when you get emails instead of phone calls. Nobody offers a job via email, right? Well I guess I wouldn't know. But rejection--ahh, rejection loves to come in written form. Even when it's only half-way rejection.

A few weeks ago, at the very start of my job hunt, I applied to an EA job with a set of magazines that covers NYC arts. For those of you not in the industry, EA=editorial assistant, and it's the entry-level magazine editing job that's entirely coveted and entirely un-glamorous. And we want one so badly!

So the interview came and went--and it went really well! An edit test interfered with my birthday weekend, but we felt really confident about it, and then we waited for a week... and another week.

Until the email came. She's impressed with my credentials. Everyone seems to tell me this! And she hired someone else. Well, she's only the second one to tell me this. But still.

And then the email turns around a little bit. "In the meantime, please let me know if you'd be at all interested in taking on assignments for us as a freelance writer," she writes. Well, hell yes I'm interested. At least my foot's in the door, right?

I guess half-way offers don't qualify for the phone, but I'll take my glass half full today, thank-you-very-much.