Author: claire lardizabal moser

Caution: Rant ahead.

After a bout of procrastination, I am attempting to get out of it by writing something I don’t have to write. I don’t know if you realize how refreshing it is to get it all out on paper, er, computer screen (unless you’re a writer and you know what I’m saying).

This semester is probably my hardest one yet. On top of my internship for the town paper, I am an editor for another class. In another class, it is writing intensive. So for nine credits out of the 17 I am enrolled in, I am just writing. Except I’m really not just writing, because that’s the easy part.

I am scouring the city for stories. I am calling, emailing, texting everyone to talk about stories. I am setting up times to interview people and going to said interviews. Then, when all’s said and done, when I’ve questioned the shit out of my sources and double-triple checked everything to make sure it’s as accurate as possible, then I can write. Writing is a privilege, and I am proud/tired/in love with the career I am going to make out of it. I am thrilled by the notion that in less than nine months, I am going to hopefully be paid to do something I have always liked doing. That alone is going to get me through my classes. And do you know what’s sad? I’ve been doing this for a year and a half, unpaid, with barely a social life or financial stability intact, but I can tell you right away I’m a lightyear better than I was on day one. I wanted to write, and they let me write, and even though I substantially eff up all the time, I think I’m getting the hang of things.