So, yesterday I sent out the following e-mail to a ton of people, and today I realized I should probably post it here as well:
This is a weird position for me to be in, but here it is: After nearly eight years of freelancing as a writer—for the New York Times, Saveur, Afar, and many other publications—and just three days after I sent my book manuscript in to my publisher, I’m looking for a job. Yes, a real, regular full-time job with a salary, and maybe even benefits.
Ideally, this would be a writing gig focused on travel and food, with freedom to tackle the other weird subjects I get obsessed with: maps, running, television, skateboarding, the Internet, parenting, the small, confounding aspects of life in this city. But I would also like to have a unicorn and, if it’s not too much trouble, universal health care. Which is to say I’m also quite interested in editing (in relation to any of the above-named subjects), and making use of both my experience and my network of talented writer friends.
I don’t necessarily expect that you have a job to offer. I’m not so presumptuous. But you may very well know someone (who knows someone) who is looking for someone to develop a travel section, or oversee food coverage, or just generally edit a broad variety of features, in print or online (or both). And that’s the kind of thing I’d like to get involved in.
There’s also the possibility, I guess, of getting a job outside of journalism, though what that might be I can’t exactly imagine. What could the author of stories like this and this do besides write more, similar stories? Whatever it ends up being, I’d even be willing to relocate outside of New York if the prospect is intriguing enough.
Also: I don’t want you to think I’m making this decision because I need a job. No, I want one. I’ve loved writing as a freelancer—freelancing has allowed me to travel the world and, almost as important, write what I want to write about. But lately, I’ve felt the pull of civilization, of routine, of participating in activities and projects with larger groups of talented people, and I want in. After so many years in the wilderness, office life seems almost exotic. Do I belong there? I don’t know. I feel a little like a boy raised by wolves who suddenly wants a seat at the table for Sunday dinner. I may eat with my hands at first, and fight you for a chance to gnaw the leg bones, but pretty soon I will learn your ways.
So, that’s about it. I suppose now I’ll have to put together a résumé and organize links to my stories; you should be able to find those things here: <http://about.me/worldmatt>.
TL;DR: Matt wants a real job, writing or editing (or “other”), print or online, in NYC or elsewhere.