Almost winners

The first three weeks of my NYU publishing course was dedicated strictly to magazines. For three weeks, we students learned about all aspects of magazine publishing from professionals who work at magazines ranging from Esquire and Men's Health to Seventeen and Vogue.

During the course, we were split up into 10 groups of 10 people charged with conceptualizing a magazine. During our magazine's infancy stage, it got ripped to shreds several times. (Apparently a green magazine for rebellious hipsters who care about recycling and neighborhood revitalization efforts doesn't work so well. Not my idea - trust me!) Our magazine instructor - who always seemed to give us the opposite advice as all the other industry professionals - actually told us that she lost sleep over worrying about us and our concept. Nice way to give us that extra vote of confidence!

All this combined gave our group a sort of black sheep reputation. However, because we were bashed so many times, we were forced to revamp - and thus improve - our concept. FiX magazine became a magazine for young hipsters who keep up with the latest trends in the indie scene - including music, art, and fashion. They're the influential cool champions of change who march through the world and turn everything upside-down - for the better. Need a FiX? Get yours.

Nevertheless, because of how much negativity surrounded our concept from its conception, when the magazine awards ceremony rolled around, all our group wanted to do was get it over with so we could make a beeline for the room in the back of the classroom - the one that held appetizers and a bunch of crates of wine from Trader Joe's.

We weren't surprised when they announced the winner - that group was awesome. They created a magazine dedicated to military families, which was really cool. But then the instructor said that she had another announcement. There wasn't a runner-up because she didn't think that term was fitting. Instead, she said that there was a group who she wanted to call the "almost winners."

"And I know everyone will appreciate this," she said. "FiX magazine."

M jaw hit the floor. At that moment, no one was more surprised than our group - proven by the fact that none of us actually went up to get our award because we all were in this weird sort of shock that we were chosen to win an award.

Well, we almost won.

Even though what she said seemed ridiculously condescending (Really? Everyone should really appreciate the fact that our group could actually come up with something great?) she meant it as a compliment.

Besides, it gave us an excuse to take our prize - a bottle of Trader Joe's wine taken from one of the crates in the back room and wrapped in a bow - and begin a many-hours-long celebration of toasting to "almost winning."

That celebration took us to the basement of a seedy bar in the financial district, the beer garden in Battery Park, a dog-friendly bar/birthday party at a bar in the East Village, a rooftop/house-warming party in the East Village, and - because at that point several of us had been drinking for six hours and could hardly walk - a bar across the street from the rooftop party where I met an out-of-town friend and became the last woman standing from our celebratory group.

Need a FiX? Get yours from us - we're almost winners.

Shut the hell up, I am TRYING TO WORK!!

SHUT THE HELL UP!!!! EVERYONE! WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP!?!?!?!?!


I swear that every single person in this ridiculously tiny-for-eight-million city is out to irritate me today.


It's freaking hot outside, and if the windows aren't open, it's as stuffy as my couch in my apartment. Yes, the air conditioner works, but since I'm not making any money anymore, I need to conserve some savings. Conserving energy and electricity is an added bonus of leaving the AC off.


Besides, I live on an island, so there's usually always a nice breeze I can capture with the windows open. And I like the windows open... in Ohio.


In New York City, every single freaking person who has a car has a horn. And I'm telling you that the stereotypes are true. I can count the number of times I've been the one behind the wheel in New York City on one hand, but I can still attest to the fact that if I'm at a red light and my foot hadn't slammed down on the gas a split second BEFORE the light turns green in anticipating of it turning, I'd get horn blasts from the car behind me and the car behind the car behind me and - just for good measure - beside me on BOTH sides as well. It's enough for me to say that I'll keep the times I've driven in New York to how many I can tick off on one hand, thank you very much.


Therefore, if I'm sitting alone at home on my laptop theoretically, oh, let's say trying to determine the point of view for my make-believe magazine's website to establish the connection between the print vehicle and the digital one, my concentration is out the open window because all I can think about is WHY ARE ALL OF YOU SO LOUD!?!?!


Horn blasts every few seconds is the norm. I get it. But apparently someone has locked a toddler in the front seat of a car across the street because all I've been hearing for the last it seems like decades is his joyfully playing with a toy that makes a loud noise: BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. Beeep, beep, beeeeebeeeeeep. Beep, beep, beeeeeeeebebebebeeeeeep, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP. Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over...


To top off the car-related irritation is the fact that Best Buy is apparently having a sale on stereo systems because right outside my window is an intersection and, therefore, a light that occasionally turns red. Apparently the number of times it turns red is directly related to the number of cars tricked out with an eardrum-shattering stereo system that need to stop there. In the last 6 minutes, I've heard rap, folk music, hip-hop, rock, and - believe it or not - classical music blasting at decibels that have to be just under the amount that would shatter a windshield.


And OK, I understand that the homeless and jobless have to keep themselves occupied with the free time they have on their hands, but does that mean that they have to create a park band?? What is a park band, you ask? Well, a park band is a lot like a garage band except they don't have a garage to practice in. But like many garage bands, a park band is also exceptionally loud and tone-deaf. While garage bands are limited to the number of "musicians" that can fit in a garage, park bands can have a larger number of participants because they have an entire park for people to occupy. And though garage bands practice in such a way that really the only people who can hear them are in the household occupying the house attached to the garage and its immediate neighbors, park bands can share their "gift" with an entire neighborhood.





Hey Mayor Bloomberg - know those signs that say "HORN HONKING, $500 FINE?" You do? Really? THEN WHY THE HELL ARE WE IN A RECESSION?!?!?!?!? We'd be out of it in a single freaking Sunday afternoon if the police force would actually act on this "law!"

Sheesh.

What's going on? Are we in school?

I know it's what I signed up for, but man, I don't know how I'm going to get through all six weeks of school!

It's only the third day of my first week at the New York University Summer Publishing Institute, and I'm already exhausted and feel like I've been going to school FOREVER!

Sitting in the same chair in the same room for no less than eight hours a day listening to speakers and watching PowerPoint presentation after PowerPoint presentation doesn't exactly scream "stimulating!"

Now don't get me wrong: Publishing is 100 percent what I want to get into, and many of the subjects are interesting, but of course there are also the ones that are necessary, but dry, dry, dry! (Cough, advertising, cough. I don't want learn how to figure out how much advertising you need to keep a magazine afloat. Just let me write a magazine article, already!)

I'm thrilled I've been accepted but not sure how much my brain can take at one time!

Go Bobcats!

The job hunt that's going nowhere fast has got to stop. Not only am I getting nothing that would further a potential publishing career except for short-term or unpaid gigs, but I can't take any more rejection.

So a few months ago, I applied for two ridiculously highly competitive, highly intensive summer publishing programs - one at Columbia University and one at New York University. Going into it, I knew that about 300 to 400 people apply to each of these programs, and I have since found out that both programs had larger-than-expected applicant pools this year. Thanks, economy. Nonetheless, I was determined that my essay would convince the admissions committee that I deserved to be among the 100 students chosen for each program. Hell - writing is what I do.

Though the similarities between the two programs are endless, I was still hoping for Columbia. Name recognition means a lot, and the Ivy League is where it's at. So even though I was thrilled to find out that I was accepted into NYU's program, there was still a part of me hoping that Columbia would want me too. That part cried when I soon thereafter read my e-mail rejection from the Ivy League, but that only lasted a short while, as I pumped myself up for the program waiting on my at NYU. Go Bobcats!


In reality, both programs are nearly the same. They're each six weeks long, with half the time focused on magazines, and half the time focused on books; both have been around for decades, and both pull the same caliber of people - including editors and CEOs of major publishing corporations and magazines - to teach the workshops or be guest speakers. Plus, NYU told me that unlike Columbia, whose job placement rate after the program is 92 percent, their job placement rate is nearly 100 percent. ONE HUNDRED PERCENT! (Now let me say that I fully realize that this 100 percent is very likely inflated, and that these "jobs" could include unpaid internships or jobs that former students got several years down the road. But I'm still hopeful!)

So though I won't have a life from May 31 until July 12 - when I say "intensive" I mean in class from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. six days a week with workshops and lectures at night between working with my several groups on our group projects - it means I get to drop everything to focus on myself. For the second time in two years - like when I moved across the country to New York in December, 2007 - I'll be completely changing my life to try something new.

I will soon be putting in my letter of resignation at the coffee shop and telling Skyhorse Publishing that while I have learned a lot and appreciate the opportunity, I'm going to work toward gaining experience that will land me a paid job. It's both exciting and terrifying at the same time, but I'm ready for the experience!