Dopp Juice Archive

This is the first in (what I hope will become) a series of video blogs about this year’s revitalization of TheWrit.org. In this five minute video, I give a brief overview of the tumultuous history of the site and its vision to be a resource for emerging writers.

WRITvlog1: Beginnings and Vision from Sarah Dopp on Vimeo.

(Sidenote: This is my first ever video production project. My biggest complaint is the quality of the audio, and I think I need to go buy an external microphone. Other tips welcome.)

Four years ago, on a hot summer day, I was bored and decided to start a new website. This particular website was intended to be a community space and publishing venue for writers. I gathered up a few friends to help me sculpt it and get the word out, and together, we named it The Writ.

The Writ had massive ambitions and zero budget. For the first four months, it survived entirely on coffee, cigarettes, insomnia, optimism, and keg party marketing. When its membership jumped from 4 to 100, we were beside ourselves with shock. When we secured a $1200 grant to help with the web programming, we felt like we’d won the lottery. When we found a guy in Romania who promised to build us every web feature we ever dreamed of for $1200, we were certain that literary world domination was well within reach.

And then, when we all burned out from volunteer hours and discovered that Mr. Romania wasn’t the programmer of our dreams, we quietly admitted failure, gave up on the project, and moved on. It would die, we figured, without us — but hey, it was fun while it lasted.

So when the damned thing refused to die, we didn’t quite know what to do about it. There it was, living on without leadership or maintenance, with broken features and mysterious glitches, with ugly designs and spam-bloated forums, and with a passion and force that made absolutely no sense to us at all. New members were signing up. People were posting writing. People were commenting on each others’ work. People were creating community.

And that’s how I know I didn’t get it. In all my pride and ambition, I had missed the point entirely. It wasn’t about making things bigger and better. It wasn’t about creating a sustainable revenue model, or establishing a fancy brand, or extending deeper into the community. And it most certainly wasn’t about us.

The Writ now has over 5,500 members. People post new writing every day, and most pieces receive constructive feedback from readers. Over the last four years, several people have stepped up to take the leadership reigns and in doing so sparked new life into the community. But that role is too taxing to sustain long-term as a volunteer without a programming staff, and its presence is usually short-lived.

Does that matter? Not as much as we thought it would. The community members don’t really care if they have a leader or not. All they care about is being able to show up, share their stuff, and connect.

That’s it.

It’s a long story, and I won’t get into it now.

It involves all of the plot elements of a good high-budget dramatic movie. I’d like to think that after I finally sell the script to David Lynch, my character will be played by Janeane Garafalo. It will be a romantic comedy, filled with dry wit and poetry, and it will document all of the laughter and tears in the latest chapter of my most tumultuous love affair: my relationship with the tech industry.

The film will end with me sitting at the top of Nob Hill, looking out over a sparkling, thriving city with a shaken longing in my eyes. And after a few minutes of thoughtful silence, I will take a deep breath and say, “Holy crap. I’m unemployed!”

And as the screen fades to black and the credits start to roll, the music will be soft, and a heavy sigh will be heard through the darkness. It will be followed by three words in the same intense voice : “It’s about time.”

Back to reality for a moment. I suddenly have no income. I’ve said goodbye a team that I’ve been calling “family.” I’ve transitioned out of exciting projects with valuable clients that I adored. No, these things do not make me happy.

But there is a relief that comes with change. There is a blank piece of paper in front of me, and I haven’t even picked out my pen yet. There is a time to rest.

And there are also many questions to answer. So let’s get them out of the way now.

The “Sarah is Unemployed” Fall ’07 FAQ

Q: Are you okay?

A: Yes.

Q: What was your job?

A: I was the Project Manager and Technical Writer for a new partnership between two firms, overseeing the production of high-end internal websites for large corporations. In other words, I was the “details person” for a startup.

Q: Were you an employee or a contractor?

A: I was a contractor. I haven’t been an employee anywhere in about 3 years. My autonomy and flexibility are very important to me. So is my ability to legally work eight hours without a break. :)

…

A: ::sighs:: You’re giving me that look my mother gives me, aren’t you. Yes, I buy my own health insurance. No, it doesn’t cost that much. And my level of job security is no worse that it would be anywhere else in the tech industry.

Q: What’s next for you?

A: I’m taking a few weeks off to rest, volunteer, write, and reacquaint myself my plans and goals.

Q: Don’t you think you should be looking for work right away?

A: To be honest, work seems to be looking for me. I’ve only been out of work for a week, I haven’t asked for any help, and I’ve already received 10 nudges/leads/offers for new work. This tells me that the tech industry is alive and well, and I don’t have much to worry about.

Q: I know someone who needs a website. I’ll send the request your way, okay?

A: Hold that thought! While I appreciate all leads and adore the spirit of community, I’m not in a position to be building websites right now, and will have to decline the request. I’ll let you know if that changes. I am, however, happy to offer suggestions for where to get assistance with your web needs — especially if you don’t mind me blogging the advice for the general public to see, too.

Q: But isn’t building websites your thing?

A: It used to be, back when simple designs and static page content were considered “high-end websites.” Now there is so much more that can (and should) be done with a website, and I’m far more interested in managing and documenting the vision and process than I am in learning new programming languages. Consider me a Project Manager and Technical Writer now. And while, yes, I could manage and document the details around your web development project, I don’t currently have a team on hand for building that website. If you have that team, we should talk.

Q: Are you, um, going to grow your hair out now?

A: Nope.

Q: Okay, I mean, it’s a good look on you. So anyway, what are you looking for right now?

A: Open space. Inspiration. Coffee dates with people who are living lives of their own design. Calls for submissions to publications. A good yoga class. Resources for improving my financial literacy. Lunch dates with people who have outlandish dreams and want to scheme the details. Tech conferences that I can get into for free or cheap. Meetups. The motivation to fix up and reorganize my home office. A renewed connection with the blogosphere. Lots of time and space and focus to write.

There’s more to come, I’m sure.