Excuse as follows - I was in the office of my favorite producer re-editing reality show sizzle reels. Fingers crossed that we hook one. We've had a great deal of passing interest, but so far no solid bites. Sigh.
The other thing I've been up to (besides brain eating headaches and uselessness inducing insomnia) is researching how to write a grant proposal. Conclusion: writing a proposal is a whole lot like writing a book report. I feel like I'm back in third grade.
The scary bits are the other research. Or frustrating. Yeah, frustrating. Finding what grants you may or may not be eligible for, and the pages of criteria are farking daunting. (Farking is not a real word. But I'm using it anyway.)
My adventures searching for a real grant writer to do this instead were...interesting. The big guns were either way too expensive (yeah, the really good ones charge up front fees that make me question my career choices), or far more interested in broader social issues projects.
The smaller guns were mostly useless. They ranged from people who had never gotten funding/never written a proposal but they got an A in high school English class, to people who's correspondence was so mind blowingly awful that I wondered if they could write their own names correctly within three tries. And yes, the ones that couldn't spell or construct a sentence wanted money. Some of them, a lot of money. I do wonder if they get it. More likely, someone told them what a great writer they were in an elementary school class some time ago, and they have a huge reality disconnect.
So fuck it. I'm doing the grant proposals myself. At least I can write my own name. And I got straight Os on those third grade book reports. So I'm hoping that something I did in elementary school will have a direct correlation to something I'm doing $^#%$% years later. (That one is a word. Just not one I care to share.)
Some of the following posts will be my continuing adventures in grant proposals, how my kitty mood swings from adorable to incredible asshole in seconds, and how I still don't want to wear pants.
The other thing I've been up to (besides brain eating headaches and uselessness inducing insomnia) is researching how to write a grant proposal. Conclusion: writing a proposal is a whole lot like writing a book report. I feel like I'm back in third grade.
The scary bits are the other research. Or frustrating. Yeah, frustrating. Finding what grants you may or may not be eligible for, and the pages of criteria are farking daunting. (Farking is not a real word. But I'm using it anyway.)
My adventures searching for a real grant writer to do this instead were...interesting. The big guns were either way too expensive (yeah, the really good ones charge up front fees that make me question my career choices), or far more interested in broader social issues projects.
The smaller guns were mostly useless. They ranged from people who had never gotten funding/never written a proposal but they got an A in high school English class, to people who's correspondence was so mind blowingly awful that I wondered if they could write their own names correctly within three tries. And yes, the ones that couldn't spell or construct a sentence wanted money. Some of them, a lot of money. I do wonder if they get it. More likely, someone told them what a great writer they were in an elementary school class some time ago, and they have a huge reality disconnect.
So fuck it. I'm doing the grant proposals myself. At least I can write my own name. And I got straight Os on those third grade book reports. So I'm hoping that something I did in elementary school will have a direct correlation to something I'm doing $^#%$% years later. (That one is a word. Just not one I care to share.)
Some of the following posts will be my continuing adventures in grant proposals, how my kitty mood swings from adorable to incredible asshole in seconds, and how I still don't want to wear pants.
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