I could be that schmoe, but not shmoo

Published April 4, 2012 by Lynda Christine Rodriguez

The freelance world is scary slow right now.  Very few jobs to be had. Last week I wrote a short piece on Bedbugs ($5) and over the weekend I wrote a short bio on someone I can’t even remember ( $2).  Monday I wrote a short story for a YA magazine about a “teen issue” ($25) .  I have also submitted 8, count ’em 8, proposals on two different free lance sites for new jobs.  (The two companies for whom I have been writing have both said that this is a normal slump for this time of year.)

I am trying to keep myself on a writing schedule, and I seem to be running out of relevancy.  I have been working on the long anticipated  (by me and The Kid) novel, but I have to take occasional breaks from the socio-path.

A former student once mentioned that I should organize my blog into a memoir and I didn’t actually take that very seriously.

Now that I am at loose ends and am running out of Law and Order episodes to watch, I have decided to look into the subject.

I have always been fascinated by memoirs, both of famous people and of the average schmoe. I browsed a little in the 92’s at the library (Biography) and noticed that there are quite a lot of average people bios that are entertaining and, even better, published.

So I am finally going through the Myspace archives of my blog and then my blogger archives and am putting them in some semblance of order.

 

I don’t mind being a schmoe

But I don’t want to be the shmoo.  (I once made this remark after seeing a particularly unflattering photograph of myself.)

A few years ago, Doug Morris, then the head of Universal Music, gave a widely publicized interview with Wired magazine– where he bemoaned the effects of the digital revolution, and complained that everyone was treating the record industry like “The Shmoo”:

“There was a cartoon character years ago called the Shmoo. It was in Li’l Abner. The Shmoo was a nice animal, a nice fella, but if you were hungry, you cut off a piece of him and put onions on it, and if you wanted to play football you just made him like a football. You could do anything to him. That’s what was happening to the music business. Everyone was treating the music business like it was a Shmoo.” http://ericbeall.berkleemusicblogs.com/2011/03/23/if-the-shmoo-fits/

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