I just got another donation from Jenna B. Thank you.
I also just got my eviction notice. Nowadays it's a post card! I could have tossed it in the garbage thinking it was junk mail.

I'm shaking as I write this update. At present, I have $2500.00 to give to the landlord, or is it the court now????

All I know is that come Tuesday when the courts open up, I must be there.

Please help, please donate.

I don't want to become homeless. I've fought too hard and too long to try to create a life for myself.


Please, I beg you, help me.

I just wanted to thank Max from Brooklyn for donating $50.00. Thank you will all my heart. Sophie the wonder dog thanks you too.

I just wanted to give you an update on what's going on in my life right now. A family friend- completely out of the blue contacted me- asked me why I wasn't being "social" and why they hadn't heard from me in a long time.
I told them the truth. I was having financial difficulties. I was depressed and frightened. I really didn't have any desire to deal with anyone. I told them that it was hard to stay upbeat, be my normal bouncy self when things went so wrong. I didn't go hysterical. I've found that when you really get that depressed, you don't cry. You just go numb.
Anyway, they said that, and this is a quote from the email exchange, "I will save you." They offered to send me enough via a wire transaction into my checking account to pay off my back rent.
I was stunned and elated. I didn't ask them for help. I really didn't. When they offered, I couldn't believe it. It was like someone had thrown me a rope, and was pulling me back into the sun.
A week goes by and I didn't hear from them.
Please understand something. It's been so hard for me to go public about this. The really funny thing is, is that all my life whenever anyone needed anything at all, I've been there for them. If a friend has a problem, I'm there. If they need clothing, food, whatever it is, I've always been first in line to help.
However, when it's been my problems, I've always tried to solve them myself. I've always been independent, and as much as I'm a social butterfly, I've usually held my problems to myself. It's hard for me to open up and have to ask someone for help. I learned at a really early age that if I don't provide for myself, and look after myself, no one will. So, I grew up being a parent to myself. Trust me when I say this, it's not the greatest way to grow up.
I guess the old adage is true, that it's way easier to help someone rather than ask for help.
So when this person was like, "hey, don't worry anymore." I trusted them.
So I sent them an email asking if they had changed their mind. If they had I would understand, I didn't want to bug them, I just wanted to know what was going on.
I got an email back saying that they had never offered to help me, that it was all in my imagination, and that I should never contact them again.
I thought I was going to pass out.
To give hope to someone in a deeply desperate situation and then lie about it, is the cruelest thing you can ever do to another person.
I would have preferred them to not have said anything at all.
Another friend said that she'd help create this fundraiser. Neither of us knew what we were doing.
I mean, how often to run a fundraiser in your life? Yeah, I know it's not an everyday occurrence.
Anyway, the paypal donation thing got screwed up. And the people who did donate, you know who you are, and thank you, the money just sat unclaimed in the account. My friend out of embarrassment, didn't want to email them, an explain the situation and ask them to donate to me.
In the end, I got the password and user name for the account, deleted their donations. I had to, as it wasn't going to me, it was going to just sit there. Then I sent emails explaining the situation.
So where am I now?
I just got a job. I really did! I got a job that I love and adore. Ironically, a few days before I got the job, I was contemplating doing the final solution. The only thing that stopped me was my dog. I started to think what would happen to her if I was gone. She's a rescue dog, with lots of issues. I've worked with her daily since I rescued her five years ago. She's come a long way. She makes me smile and laugh when things are at their worst. Sophie the wonder dog, and she really is, saved me. And I'm glad she did. A few days after my decision, I got the job. Gee, what a super smart dog, huh?! Lol.
With my first paycheck I was able to pay my electricity bill. This was a marvelous thing because it was going to be turned off. I had gotten my disconnect notice. Iwas able to buy dog food. Yay! And I was able to buy coffee and milk for me. Double yay! Seriously, I need coffee to survive.
So now I have a future, one which I didn't think I would have.
However, I am desperate to pay off my back rent. It's $6000.00. To some people, that's a drop in the bucket. To me right now, it's huge. It's money which I don't have. Every day I come home waiting to see if the dreaded lock is put on my door. It's so weird that I got a job, yet can't pay off my back rent.
Here's where you come in. If you can see to donate something, anything at all, I would really appreciate it. I know we're living in crazy weird economic times, and I know how scary it all is for us all.
I'm so exhausted from shaking with stress every day. I worry that my home situation is going to screw up my work because I think about this constantly. I wish to god that I had family to rely on. It would be nice to have family, to have people who loved you and supported you when things go south for you. When they were alive, I learned way to early, that they wouldn't, that I was only a target for their own frustrations in life. Miraculously, I survived with my sense of humor and fairness intact. It took me a long time to realize that being called worthless every day was a lie.
Gosh I'm rambling. I'm sorry. It's oh, I can't explain, I am trying. But the only people who I can call out to help me are strangers.
Please help me save my home. Please help me. You have no idea how much this would mean to me. You have no idea how many times I've thought to myself, that I'm just a small pebble that's going to be thrown away. That I'm so helpless and all I want to do is to rectify this situation. But I can't do it alone. I wish I could.

Please help.

PJ

You know me, I’m PJ. I’m a freelance writer, I have a dog and I live in Manhattan. In a matter of days I’m going to join the homeless. I wish I was kidding you, but I’m not. I’ve always acted like I was doing well, because, let’s be honest, no one wants to hire someone or spend time with someone if they have things going wrong with their lives.

It’s human nature. We all want to spend time with fun, happy, successful people. So for months, I’ve been pretending to be a fun, happy successful person to the world, and at home when I’m alone I shake with fear. Now my worst fears have been realized, and in a few days everything I have worked for will be gone. I’m going to end up on the streets.

This is my story. For the past nine years I’ve been living in Manhattan. I moved back to the city to pursue my dream as a journalist. To make my dream come true I wrote freelance articles for newspapers, magazines and websites. To make a living, to pay my bills I temped in offices. I’ve been an administrative and executive assistant. I worked in every field and I continued to write articles. I never made a lot of money. I learned, really learned how to stretch a dollar until it screamed “uncle.”

Financially it was tough. But I was pursuing my dream of acquiring a full-time job in my field and that made my heart and soul sing. Temping, depending upon the assignment was either a joy or torture. A joy because some assignments taught me so much about various fields, I had great co-workers, made friends and felt that I was a part of team. I assisted them in their goals, and I had fun too. Torture because I had assignments where the supervisors would call me names, throw things at me and treat me like I was brainless. I generally sucked it up because I needed the money. In the nine years that I’ve been back home in NYC, only twice did I ask to be replaced at an assignment. There’s only so many times when someone calls you an “idiot” that you can take.

I rent a two bedroom apartment in Harlem. I’ve always had roommates. Some roommates were amazing and we became friends. Some weren’t great, but they paid the bills.

I’ve never had a lot of savings; I’ve never had the fortune to travel. And I’ve never shopped retail. Almost everything I own is from a thrift store or free. You could say that I’m a savvy shopper!

So why am I in this place? Why do I have less than two weeks before I become homeless? Here’s what happened. Here’s how I fell down the financial hole. First of all, I don’t have any family. My dad died years ago, my mom died in 2006. It’s just me and the dog.

I had been temping steadily for years in addition to freelance writing. This past March I had a roommate who moved back home due to mental health issues In April temping started to slow down. I was able to cover March and April’s rent. I advertised for another roommate. I had a student who was coming to NYC for a summer internship. The student needed the room from May to August. The student said they’d take it. At the last minute, when I asked for a deposit, they changed their mind. I ran another ad and at the very last minute got another student who was going to stay the summer.

While that was going on, temping started to dry up. After my assignment in May ended, I had nothing for almost a month. I still had checks coming in from freelancing, but they were never more than a couple of hundred dollars, if that and I couldn’t carry my apartment and my bills on that alone.

The summer student decided to move out at the end of May. The student also stole from me. I temped for a week here; a day there, but nothing steady all summer. In July, a guy who was moving to NYC took the apartment. He was going to live in my place for a few months while he and his friend looked for a perm place to live. I was temping at the time. The third day that he was living here, I come home from work and find a note from him. He decided that he couldn’t afford the place and moved out. Oh and he never paid me deposit, rent, etc., the irony is, after he had said yes, I turned a few people down who were interested in the room because I thought I had a roommate!

It’s now August, and I am three months behind in rent. I’ve been able to pay down- mostly, my utility bills and have food on the table and that’s about it. In August, I get a roommate. I also get a temp assignment that lasts for a month. Things start to look up. I’m still past due on almost everything. Someone I know lends me money to pay off my past due bills in late October. For the first time in months, I no longer panic when I hear a knock at my front door. I get a temp job that’s supposed to last for six months. The job lasts two weeks. Not really thinking that the economy is going to implode the way it is, I’m hopeful that something will happen. Instead of my normal $17 - $20 temp jobs, I’m now offered one day receptionist jobs for $10 - $12, I take it. I’ll take anything.

In December, I agree to write a YA book for Penguin. It’s a writer-for-hire contract, a flat fee. I take it. I spend the entire month working on the book. I think to myself, the book’ll be done, and I’ll start temping again. I notify all 20 of my temp agencies, that I can only do one day assignments. Nothing comes in temping-wise, but I’m not worried. January starts the first quarter and I’m sure I’ll get something. During this time, my roommate gives me 4 days notice and moves out. I can’t find another roommate. I can’t get a temp job. I get my check for the book in late February and pay my back rent, a few utilities and that’s about it. The main publication I work for has slashed its budget; my check for February was $40. I have almost nothing let. After a screaming match with my ex-roomie, I send her $800, I owe her $700 for the deposit. I tell her that I can only pay $100 a month because of financial difficulties and will pay her off until the balance is done. I’ve been selling everything I own to raise money- not only to pay her back, but so that I can pay bills. 14 auctions netted me a little over $100. She’s now suing me.

I think today is the last day of my Internet access. I got a turn-off notice from the electric company. All my utilities are being turned off. I’m three months behind in rent. I have a hospital bill from February that has to be paid off because I hurt my foot. Does anyone want a slightly used cane?
I just got a job, but I won’t get my first check for another week. I wish it was enough to pay off my back bills, but it’s not.

To be honest with you, if I didn’t have my dog, I wouldn’t be here right now. It’s highly embarrassing to me to write all this down for everyone to see. I’ve always been independent and self-sufficient. I’ve had to be. I left home when I was young, due to an extremely bad childhood. I’ve always relied on myself to conquer things. Now I can’t conquer anything. I’m happy to get the hell out of bed and show up at work on time. I’m thrilled that I have a job. But I don’t have rent money, I don’t have money to pay the utilties and I don’t have money to take the dog to the vet for her Parvo shot.

In a few days I’m going to be on the streets. I feel like the reverse of that movie with Will Smith.

I hate to ask this of you, but can you help me pay my bills? Can you help me stay alive? I am so sorry to publicly lay my life out here, but I am frantic and don’t know what to do anymore.

Writers speak: Life as a freelance writer

Freelancers, by the very nature of their business live on shaky ground. Whether they have a contract job with a corporation, are weekly or monthly contributors to a publication, or work by articles, or styling, or sewing, or singing, or what have you, never really feel secure. So while they have that contract, they are always keeping an eye open for a full time position, another contract, anything that will give them security.

They are the first line that falls when the economy becomes shaky. Their jobs are suddenly considered expendable, no matter if they’ve been a temporary administrative assistant working for a financial firm for ten years; they are the first to go.

Some of them have savings to rely on. Some of them have multiple skills that they can utilize and some of them have family that can help them through the rough patches.

Then again, some of them are like me. I left home at 17; yes, I ran away to college. While in college, I started my own business and luckily towards my senior year got a job in my field. It seems that I have always worked two jobs. While other people vacationed, I worked. I don’t have a family to rely on when things go badly for me. There isn’t a mom, dad, brother or sister who can shelter me from the storms. It’s just me. Alone. Well, I have a dog. She keeps me sane.

When I moved to New York City, I attempted to get a job in my field. I could only get freelance work. So I picked up another job. For years I have been a temporary administrative assistant and a freelancer. I never made much money, just enough to keep me afloat, buy dog food and the occasional pair of shoes, but I was happy. I had a roof over my head, food in the fridge. The temp agencies and their clients liked me; I was called again and again for assignments. My freelancing work was slow but steady. After a few years I was starting to make a name for myself in my field, I was starting to make contacts, and things were slowly looking up.

Then last spring temping started to dry up for me, the jobs became infrequent. I barely worked this past summer. Then the recession went into full swing. I haven’t temped since October. The companies who I freelance for announced that they were cutting payments for work so that they could keep afloat. I have exhausted all my savings and have less than $100 in my checking account. If I can sell anything I own on eBay, I’m doing it as you read this. Right now I am thankful that I have dog food, coffee and milk in the house.

In less than a week, I will lose my internet access, then I will lose my electricity, in one month’s time I will be homeless. My dog will have to be re-homed, and I will be on the streets.

This is just my story. There are others whose life stories are parallel to mine. We just want to work, to provide for ourselves, to pay our bills. Can you help us hang on a little longer?

This writer has chosen to remain anonymous.

Why Save the Writers?

Writing is a form of art. It's incredibly valuable. And yet, underappreciated.

And the recession just added insult to injury, so to speak (or rather, the other way around). Everyone is feeling it to some degree, but the publishing industry is one of those that have been hit the hardest. And no one is rushing to help them.

As a result, freelance writers have taken a really hard hit. This is just an attempt to help – it may not be much, but it beats standing there watching, just shaking our head. One has to start somewhere.

Here we'll feature news about the industry, posts from out-of-work writers or struggling freelancers (mostly anonymous) and just try to show you what is really happening in these people's lives.

We have set up a PayPal account, and any money donated will be used to help save the writers. The more we have, the more we can help. Anything counts.

It bears repeating: anything you can do, even a small step in the right direction, beats not doing anything at all.

Thank you for considering giving us a hand!