OFF CUTS: A month of firsts and the sad spectacle of self promotion
March in review.
March at a glance
👅 THINGS I ATE
I TRIED MY FIRST ENSAYMADA AND WATCHED THE AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX. THANKS SUGAR ARTIST.
Love it when my interests collide - food, f1 (but not the literal collision between drivers. Ugh.)
📺 THINGS I WATCHED
Sports. The countdown to the NHL playoffs begins now.
🎧 THINGS I HEARD
Good, Bad, Billionaire (podcast).
I’ve been following Zing Tsjeng since her VICE days. She brings the same dry, direct humour to dissect how millionaires (from LeBron, Taylor Swift, to Bill Gates…and yes, even Gina Rinehart) go from making their first million to their first billion. Hosted with Simon Jack.
🌱 THINGS I FELT
A lot of nerves. Facilitated and presented my first performance workshop with Centre for Stories. Together with Jake Dennis (poetofjazz) we taught 8 poets and storytellers how to perform their stories/ poems on stage. Then they did it. At Blue Room Theatre.
Storytelling to Stage Workshop - Blue Room Theatre and Centre for Stories, 2025. I am so bloody proud of this group of young performers (18-24yo) for getting up stage and performing their stories of grief, love and identity to a crowd. Program Team (who are young in heart, not in age): Nadia (Centre for Stories), Jake (PoetsofJazz) and yours truly.
👺 THINGS THAT STANK
IWD events without diversity - class, gender or race (just for starters). You think the free cupcake would distract me from that?
This month’s essay is on the sad yet somewhat necessary spectacle of self promotion
If you algorithm has been been infected with the tech-bro/ corporate/ lazy girlie influencers (sorry, I mean, ‘thought leaders’), then you’ve heard something along the lines of “hard work doesn’t get recognised. Visible work gets recognised”.
(side note: for a mix of reasons, I think I definitely fell into the ‘my work will speak for itself’ trap early in my corporate career. We’re not going into that here.)
It’s something that would appear self-evident with social media, what with the way that it’s all about ‘followers’ and ‘building an audience’ and all that.
And yet.
I still cringe at self-promotion - not at others doing it (especially writers - I always am supportive of those who are trying to GET THAT BAG) - but doing it myself.
It’s not just posting about the damn thing.
It’s the graphics (here, I get to reprise my career as an aspiring graphic designer),1 writing a caption, tagging people, Instagram app crashing, and then thinking, what’s the point of doing all of this when people have entire teams and half the shit is probably being written by AI, and oh god how to be perceived without being perceived.
Also: I should be careful about how much I post online.
So yeah. It’s all a little cringe.
You’ll see I’m attempting to be more consistent about posting the articles I’ve written once they’ve gone live.
(it also helps as someone who hasn’t made a proper portfolio website yet).
So like, I’m not good at social posting about my following or articles.
And I should be better.
Because honestly, it helps:
people read it;
get the word out about local businesses;
credit the people/ restaurant/ small business owners that I’ve featured;
keep me going during the hard days - when I get a small note of thanks from an interviewee.
Before I started freelance writing, I didn’t fully appreciate why writers/bloggers/influencers/ podcasters asked others to “like, subscribe, share or [insert whatever here].
But now, I’m getting a bit of an insight.
I’m saying this because when people say “every comment helps”
Sometimes it’s hard to understand how it helps.
So let me break it down (hopefully).
So, while this doesn’t apply to every freelancer, this is how your click, share, like etc supports my work:
Step 1: I write random notes in my phone gdoc app, like things I’ve seen on the commute, things I find when catching up with friends over brunch, or when I’ve listened to that intrusive thought at 11pm, chased it until I’ve doomscrolled till 3am
Step 2: I pitch to a publication. I get a lot of ‘no, not for us’ emails.
Step 3: Editor says yes. Gives me a deadline.
Step 3.5 (I cry a little in joy and relief)
Step 4: I write.
Step 5: Editor edits.
Step 6: Repeat 4 to 5, with subeditor.
Step 7: Link goes live, yay. I read it on the train to the corporate job.
Step 8: You click the link.
Step 9: You read the article (hopefully!).
Step 10: You share it/ hit that heart.
Step 11: Repeat step 8 to 10.
Step 12: If an article does well, my editor(s) message me ‘hey, you’ve got X number of views’.
Step 13: I burn out for a bit.
Step 14: I burrrrrnnnnnn.
Step 14.5: I send an invoice and apologise profusely at how late my invoice is.
Step 15: I reach out with another cold email with an idea.
Step 16: I cry a little more.
Step 17: Editor is inundated with big inbox and doesn’t want to talk.
Step 18: they see my name in the inbox and go, ‘“hey that’s the writer in Perth whose article actually helped us a little bit”.
Step 19: says yes and they have budget because they remember that article that did alright a few months ago and helped them fill a content void.
Step 20: I GET TO WRITE FUN THINGS ABOUT MY COMMUNITY AND RANT ABOUT THINGS THAT PISS ME OFF. And I have a little joy outside my lil’ office cubicle and my 9 to 5.
Step 21: Repeat.
So yeah, freelance writing pool I’ve dipped myself into, apparently, every click counts.
I’m not saying that because it’s a good business model. It’s just the reality we’re living with.
Entire publications are being run on right margins, adverting money is drying up, and good luck putting something in print.
So with all of that (and you know, balancing the day job),
I write articles where and when I can.
I have some really fantastic editors who give me space to write a story.
Editors who don’t have time - who still give me some pointers and don’t write me off just because I’ve made a mistake.
But with publications who I don’t have relationships with, I pitch cold.
And it helps when they can see that there’s a body of work I’ve established, that people like (I don’t mean in a fluffy way, I mean like, have actually clicked like and shared the damn thing).
And that’s how I can get jobs atm.
So yeah.
One of my best mentors told me that writing is meant to be read.
This was in the context of a very difficult essay period, when I was stuck about a portion on cookbooks and translation and was seeing a lot of writing in the same space and wasn’t really sure where my words fit with all of that (whether it was worth writing anymore).
“It’s not supposed to die in your notes”
So yeah.
This is a reminder to me to just, post the damn thing.
And maybe work on a website sometime.
/s. If that’s not immediately obvious.
Enjoy every article you have written so far. I’m your biggest fan 😊