Over a decade ago, when I thought I was going to make my living by being a writer, I got paid to write about music.
It wasn't often and it wasn't even the first thing I got paid to write about. No, the first thing was high school sports. The second thing was lifestyle pieces about dental lab technicians for a trade magazine (yeah).
But the third thing? That was music, which also happened to be my "plan." As in, my career plan.
See back then, I was obsessed with Chuck Klosterman and I watched "Almost Famous" like once a week so I had a very romantic take on what it meant to venture into music journalism. In reality, it was both more and less cool than that: for me, it meant going to album release parties in New York City and interviewing my favorite musicians on conference calls from my car and even hanging out on the occasional tour bus.
It was an exciting, anything-could-happen time, even when it didn't pay much or often or at all. Honestly, I was just happy that my art could live in the shadows of the art of my heroes. I liked the proximity of my creativity to theirs, no matter how irrelevant that proximity was.
And today, though it happens less frequently and though I no longer get or want to get paid for it, I still jump at the chance to write about music and
musicians from time to time. And now that I'm in my 30s, it's ideal for those times to also involve comfy seating, craft cocktails and healthy snacks.
Because, 30s, amiright?
