"I'll never be a mommy blogger!"
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I was taking a walk, running my hand through tall grasses and flowers in my neighbors’ yards, and talking to a friend on the phone when I said these words. (Actually, I think what I said was, “I promise I won’t become a mommy blogger!” but that wouldn’t fit in the subject line.)
She backed me up with an “oh you better not,” and we both laughed and continued discussing the type of writing work we are pursuing, leaving the label of mommy blogger in the dust of our unexplained scorn.
And what did that even mean?
I’d just told my friend that I’ve been working on a new project and I’m not sure exactly what it is yet, but it has to do with my experience of becoming a mom with a baby in the NICU and my desire to maintain a creative life while parenting. It’s what I’ve been writing about in notes on my phone and whatever writing surface I remember to bring to the hospital. I told her perhaps it’s a newsletter on this here platform, but “news” letter sure doesn’t sound right for this topic. So maybe it’s a blog. A blog about being a mom? Would that make me a “mommy blogger”?
But mommy bloggers write about potty training and their favorite onesies from Target. That’s definitely not what I have in mind.
If you write for a living, there’s no doubt you’ve encountered baseless skepticism for whatever title or platform is currently paying your bills or taking up your time. Whether it’s blogging, social media, or journalism for a site that isn’t The New York Times, loved ones will inevitably raise an eyebrow, their expression demonstrating an assumption that surely this activity is more of a hobby than a profession.
And then we turn around and do it to ourselves.
I can’t tell you how many times I’ve plucked the name of some print publication from the depths of my portfolio when someone asks me who I write for because if I mention an online outlet they haven’t heard of, they’ll call it blogging. Ew.
But why do we care?
I suppose it’s because our identity as writers is so hard to define and this industry forces us to constantly fight for validation. Whether we’re pitching our most cherished ideas into the black hole of an editor’s inbox or staring at a blank document and questioning our ability to form sentences in a bout of uninspired exhaustion, the uphill battle of making it work as writers can leave us sliding backwards into the muck of self doubt.
I still do it, after over a decade of professional writing. I’m getting better at describing the work I’ve done with confidence, but casting judgement on a title like mommy blogger just goes to show I still harbor some insecurity about the type of work I do or might do and how others will perceive it. (And let’s not even get started with the sexism heaved upon that title by a society that woefully undervalues the work of motherhood; that’s another essay entirely.) Sure, there are lots of blogs about parenting that focus more on affiliate links than thoughtful story telling. But there is also some really beautiful writing about motherhood in the form of blogs.
As writers, we get to call ourselves whatever the hell we want. We can pick and choose from the many titles we’ve been given and ones others use to describe our work and come up with something entirely new. We are after all, in the business of being particular in how things are described.
Lately, I’m primarily a newsletter writer. “And how is a newsletter different than a blog?” people have inevitably asked. Well, newsletters get sent to readers’ inboxes, but yep, they’re basically the same thing. Sometimes I call myself an environmental journalist, even though it’s been six months since I wrote my last story related to the environment. Thankfully, we have one simple word for whatever type of word-work we’re currently doing.
We’re writers. Doing the work and wearing all the hats and juggling responsibilities and titles in a way that only writers know how to do.
If I do self-publish what I’ve been writing on motherhood, I probably won’t call myself a mommy blogger, only because I don’t want anyone calling me “mommy” besides my daughter. But if someone ever wants to include my work in the nebulous category of mommy blogs, that’s just fine. At least it means I hit publish.
Now, let’s get to some of those opportunities to call yourself a writer or blogger or journalist or wordsmith or whatever feels right to you…
Education, Funds, etc.
Freelancing with Tim is hosting a Zoom workshop, Pitch perfect: Everything to know about pitching stories on September 8.
Applications for the Biodiversity Fellowships from Earth Journalism Network to attend and cover the UN Convention on Biological Diversity in December of 2022, are due September 15.
McGraw Fellowship for Business Journalism is open for fall applicants. Experienced journalists offered grants up to $15,000 and the editorial support needed to produce deeply reported enterprise and investigative stories that delve into critical economic, financial or business issues across a wide array of subjects. Applications due September 30.
Writing by Writers is accepting applications for residencies in multiple locations, including Minnesota, Alaska and Idaho. One and two-week residencies include free lodging. Applications for all programs are due October 15.
The Bill Lane Center for the American West is accepting applications for their Western Journalism and Media Fellowships, which provide opportunities for journalists working in all kinds of media — newspapers, magazines, radio, television, online, multimedia, video, film, data visualization and mapping, and books. Applications are due October 3.
Jenni Gritters if hosting a new round of Mastering Your Mindset, monthly group coaching focused on combatting mindset monsters in your freelance career or small business. Meetings will start on October 18 and participation costs $175/month.
There’s some helpful advice on making more money as a freelancer from seasoned environmental journalists in here.
Pitch Opportunities
That’s all for today, friend. Don’t forget, if you’re not yet a paid subscriber, you can upgrade now for just $3/month. And if you are already a paid subscriber, it would mean a lot if you shared this newsletter with a writer friend.
See you next week!
Stay inspired,
Britany