I’ve been working on my CV to apply to the local university. I’m quite certain that my education alone certifies me for the job. And writing my life achievement, or lack thereof, onto a single page is dehumanizing as hell. I look better in person than on paper. I come off as smart or at least a smart ass. (I’ve come a long way from college. Or maybe not. Everyone thought I was smart in college as well, but looking at my CV I look kind of like a dumbass.)
My initial conversation at the university revealed there were two possibilities for me–Broadcasting and literature. Okay, These have always been my two possibilities. Always. Since I’ve been an adult. I’ve always chosen to go with broadcasting for the money. And it’s been good fun; at times it’s been great fun. But now here again I stand at the fork. Work in the broadcasting department, which because of my experience I’m way over qualified for and could work into the highest ranks of the station quickly, I’m sure. Or begin pursuing the literary life by teaching undergrad lit courses. I don’t know if the money is any different. I suspect not.
I’m leaning toward the literary life, because I’ve prepared so much for it. I’ve gone the educational route, wrote the books, I’m preparing myself to enter the community on a larger scale. And still there’s this feeling that I’m starting out at the bottom wrung all over again.
Still I’m prepared to join the literati. I’ve been reading some interesting stuff. Matt Bell’s The Collectors,
and the absurdist journal Bust Down the Door and Eat All the Chickens.
(Both have free PDF’s and are both worth reading and checking out.) My point is, I can hang with these guys. Looking at my resume, I can’t match the breadth their accomplishments. I’ve been busy pointing the glass end of a camera at assholes who want to be on t.v. for 17 years. Working 40+ hours a week takes a lot of time out of the writing schedule. And then writing takes a tremendous amount of time and focus. Especially if you write long form like I do. I haven’t focused too much on the shorter stuff, which runs contrary to my minimalism. But hey. Long form is where it’s at… sort of. I do see the novella growing as the form of choice. Harry Potter excepted.
I’m rambling now. I know. I didn’t plan this post. I’m venting.
My choices are this: Do what I’ve been doing and move up to the next wrung in the ladder of that career so when I go back to the States I’m one step up from where I was when I left; or start on this path I’ve been preparing for on the side and have a few years experience when I head home and try to get into the highly-competitive way-over-saturated field of the university level English Department.
Follow your bliss, right? Sometimes it’s not always easy to determine the most blissful path.