I write more than this blog. Writing is also my profession. Primarily, I work directly with companies who need writing, design and production for websites, newsletters, brochures, video — even blog posts of their own.
I also keep an eye on writing jobs offered online. So does The Counselor, who’s a writer, as well.
Like everything else on offer across the world, writing jobs are listed on an inexhaustible variety of sites. In addition to being a potential source of work, the posted jobs are a glimpse into trends: the “endless assortment,” “dizzying array” or (choose your own hackneyed phrase here) of adventurous new enterprises determined to be the greatest thing since sliced bread, the better mousetrap, the ne plus ultra, the cat’s meow.
One trend you’ve certainly noticed (and perhaps subscribe to) is the number of online services that will send you something you need on a regular basis: weekly, monthly, whatever. Hearkening to the analog-and-snail-mail days of the Book of the Month Club, the Columbia Record Club and the Wine of the Month Club, now morphed into Audible, Netflix and wine.com, you can get an impressive assortment of stuff sent to you automatically: groceries, gourmet cheese, razor blades or curated selections of the latest fashions for both men and women. (Soon, of course, your always-connected refrigerator, home theater system and closet will simply order them for you based on your use patterns and what’s in the fridge.)
Here’s a writing job for a service I hadn’t realized I needed until The Counselor brought it to my attention:
The most respected men’s underwear resource and world renowned Curated Underwear Club is looking for a freelance Writer. Nowadays, men’s underwear is one of the most prominent (not to mention exciting) parts of the men’s fashion industry, and The Underwear Expert has a finger on the pulse of it all.
I was stunned. First, I hadn’t realized that my underwear was “prominent,” or I’d have done something about it. Without going into detail, I must also admit that my underwear isn’t exciting. I’ve obviously been missing something.
A check of the company’s website offers plans for 1, 2 or 3 pairs of underwear each month in “sporty,” “fashionable,” “fun” and “classic” styles.
I simply didn’t realize I should be buying underwear at such a torrid pace.
I have my hands full, keeping the oil changed in the car every so often, vacuuming the rugs and cleaning the bathroom. The gutters need clearing before the November rains come. Monthly underwear delivery is simply going to have to go on the “I’ll get around to it later” list, and I’ll have to be satisfied with an uncurated underwear drawer.
No, I didn’t apply for that writing job. It pays only $12-$18 an hour, and if one needed any further proof of how little the Underwear Experts value good writing, one only needs to look at their use of capitalization in the above blurb: putting caps on “Curated Underwear Club” and “Writer,” not to mention that wacky use of the word, “nowadays.” They need a writer, obviously; so long as they don’t have to pay them more than about half of what they pay someone to empty their wastebaskets.
If you try the monthly underwear delivery, let me know how it goes. Please, don’t send photos.
© Brad Nixon 2016