My stint with Professional (HA!) Writing (v.2)

I actually reconsidered my stance, and will continue writing for WILDsound.
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So about a month ago I was scowering an online filmmaking jobs database, and stumbled upon a writing position for an unknown website. Ongoing - Immediately - Lo/no/deffered. So the position was ongoing, I had to start immediately, and there was no pay. Just the job for me. I get more info, and they tell me to do reviews of "classic" films. "Classic," I eventually found out, meant any film at all. Four a month would be good they said. Keep it positive and make it more along the lines of a tribute instead of an actual critique. I was ecstatic. Sweet, a real writing job. I can get my name out, practice my writing, and do someting I enjoy.

Fucking hell, was I wrong.

First few reviews, I was breezing along, had some stuff to say about my favourite films. Those reviews were pretty good. They were long--they apparently wanted 7-10 paragraphs--and they were extensive. They kinda felt bullshit and bland, but everyone thinks that of their own writing. I send them in and they respond.

"Great stuff. Keep em coming. 150-200 Reviews before you get out of high school and you may have a nice career ahead of you."

1 year left in high school + 2 months summer = 12 months until graduation
150 / 12 = 12.5 reviews a month.

Shit.

Recalculate. 150/ 15 = 10 reviews a month. I'd be 3 months into post-grad mayhem.

So the math part surely lifted my spirits, and reminded me of how much I hate math. A minor setback though, as I was naive and hopeful that I could pull off 15 reviews in a month. A review every other day. Fuck yeah.

Right, so fastforward to a few reviews later. I see my name beside "Written by:" and I get all giddy. I Google my name for the hell of it and find myself (me, not someone with my name) on the fifth link. I feel like hot shit.

I take it upon myself to learn a bit more about the website I write for. It's run by a couple of filmmakers in the industry based in Toronto. Pretty impressive and extensive. Their "Classic Movie Reviews" link is jammed with reviews. So I read a couple of them. Then I get bored and just click on a bunch of them. They each have a different author pretty much, and their bios are daunting to say the least.

"I have written several screenplays and won awards for a couple of independent film festivals."

"My first novel is being published in late November."

"My newest film screened at Cannes last year. It won shit."

"I have an Oscar. Fuck you."

"I made Titanic."

Just a rut in the road. I'm gonna be famous too, if I keep this going.
So I do. I write a few more, and now it begins to feel tiring. The earlier ones I actually watched the movie beforehand. Now, I'm doing it from memory of the last time I've seen it. Frustrating to say the least, it became reminiscent of high school essay marathons at 2 in the morning.

Before I know it, post-pressure Writer's Block sets in. Not a review for a week. I have two planned to do. I finish one, and I email to the "editor." She doesn't even reply back to acknowledge that she got it. So I click on the website and see my review up there. But then I also see eight more, and one of them is of the film I was planning on reviewing next. How awesome. Someone is finally filling in my job. After a month.

Wow, speak of the devil. She just replied telling me my review is up on the site. I feel a little better. Still, I must continue this!

So anyways, this writer who's reviewed my planned film I have not seen on the site. For that matter, neither have I ever seen most of the other reviewers who posted something that day. My suspicions and speculations I have only kept to myself, clouded by naivete and hopeful judgement; pleading with the prospect that this could be a break, that maybe I could skip a normal job and go straight into my dream career.

Well, if I thought like that, I kinda deserve it, don't I?

It was actually before this that I finally got to the punchline. I felt like The Comedian midway through Watchmen. It was all a joke. My hopes, my reviews, everything I wasted this July doing. A big, long, frustrating unfunny joke. I realized,

"Hey, I know why they posted that position on the filmmaking classifieds!"
"Why, Super? Please enlighten me."
"Well, it's obvious really, Ego."
"Really? How so?"
"They just wanted writers to do reviews for them, so they didn't have to do them all. That way they could do other shit with the website, and use those reviewers to increase traffic and fill in their pages with films."
"Wait, so you're telling me that this was a plan to satisfy their needs instead of fufill your dream and nurture your well-being?"
"Yes, unfortunetly."
"That they are actually uninterested in your hopes and only advertised them to draw you into their devious plan to use you as a tool of furthering their online development?"
"Yeah."
"That the only reason they hired you, without an interview, phone call, or anything like that, was because there is no reason for them to?! That your reviews don't matter to them?! That all you do is provide them with site content and they give back empty promises?!!"
"Yup."
"THAT IS FUCKING GAY."

That internal conversation between Superego and Ego really put things into perspective. I then was reduced into a nihilistic and misanthropic depression session filled with tissues and endless hours of Team Fortress 2. No amount of noobish facestabs can mend the emotional and psychological pain of realizing people like to take advantage of others.

What now? Well, I don't know. I have seven reviews on that website, already layered and smothered and forgotten under the endless others that toolbags like myself write for the sake of enhancing the efficiency of a website that doesn't give a shit about you. Who would've thought, huh? That an organization of some sort makes use of you to further their own agenda, leaving you to rot in sorrow and anger.
I could abandon the whole thing. Scrap that folder entitled "REVIEWS." A month's worth of writing for naught. Just forget this month. Move on with life, even if you've lost its meaning.

"Wait."

Oh look, Id wants to speak. He rarely has anything worth contributing but who cares.

"I like sex. And food."
"Yes, we understand that, Id. What do you want to say?"
"Why don't you just post them here. It's not like anyone's here to read them, so you won't have someone on your ass about your writing, or them rejecting your reviews, like real writing would be like."
"He's got a point."
"Yeah, you can make it a series. It'll be just like that website, only you're the owner of this one, and you get to write when you want, how you want, and what about.
"Damn, Id. You work magic sometimes."

My psyche are pretty cool guys. Yes, Id does bring up some good points. This could be the start of something. Fanboy's Reviews. Or something. Hmmm, is there light at the end of the tunnel? Could there be new meaning to my life?

No, because nobody actually reads this. But at least I get something out of posting reviews on my very own blog! :D

If you do read this, why not comment on this post and do it as a roll call.

"Chump change, reporting in."

Something like that. But, viewer censuses aside, I should get this rolling.

A new dawn breaks over whatever the fuck I spent my July doing.
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PS. DISCLAIMER - The site, WILDsound Filmmaking, is actually a great site. They have lots of talented writers and the two creators are pretty cool people. They hold an annual Film Festival in Toronto; the only one that focuses on feedback from filmmakers and audiences, live during screenings. It's a fun experience, I'm sure. Check it out next time it's showing Downtown.

Despite my torrent of hate and anger, I've gotten over it. They're pretty awesome, and the bottom line is I stopped enjoying it, so I've left. If you're a writer, and you want to get some practice, it could be a good start.