35 Likes, 2 Comments - Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) on Instagram: "This is new resume 👑"
The internet knows me better than I know myself. Image via my Instagram feed.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
Over the last year, as the Lawrence Grauman Jr. Post-graduate Fellow at the Investigative Reporting Program at the Graduate School of Journalism at the University of California, Berkeley, I had the opportunity to mentor graduate students in journalism. What question did they ask me most often?
How do you make a living?
For me, the answer was simple. I wasn’t precious about writing. I do one thing well, and nothing else well: I am a very, very good writer. One could say writing is my superpower. Writing is the tool I use to make money. How I use that tool is up to me. There is no one correct way to use the tool. There is you, and the tool, and how you use the tool is your business.
At this point, I’ve been a writer for over two decades. Which is a pretty long time to make a living at something. Along the way, I’ve been many things, but all of them involve writing. I’ve been an investigative journalist, a copywriter, a TV producer, a branding consultant, a publicist, and a speaker, to name a few.
While I know that I can write and well, I have a sort of shrugging attitude as to how I’ve applied that talent.
In 2010, a communications company hired me to be the voice of Pepto-Bismol on Facebook. If you’re not aware, Pepto on social media is a personality. P&G was unhappy with what this company had done to give Pepto a persona. It was up to me to provide that. So, I did. One of the most popular posts I wrote featured the caption: “I partied so hard my cup fell off.” The photo featured Pepto with its cup next to it.
In 2009, I wrote and published a 10,000-word investigation of the Great Recession’s impact on the adult movie industry: “They Shoot Porn Stars, Don’t They?” Slate included it in their "Seven Great Stories About Paying for Sex and Being Paid to Have It,” and Longform called it “unflinching and devastating.” Subsequently, an essay I wrote about the project, "The Numbers On Self-Publishing Long-Form Journalism," was taught in “Media, Politics & Power in the Digital Age” at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University and the Studio 20 program at the Arthur L. Carter Journalism Institute at New York University.
In 2008, I was an editor for a Time Warner-owned digital vertical for 18-to-34-year-old women. During that tenure, I wrote nearly 1,400 posts, oversaw a team of freelance contributors, and directed the site’s digital outreach program, helping grow the site’s traffic from startup to 4 million unique visitors and 22 million page views a month.
So, who am I? A copywriter? An investigative journalist? An editor? Pretending to be Pepto made $100 an hour and earned me thousands of dollars every month. The porn investigation I published “made” no money but was read by thousands and thousands of people and, according to one reader, “changed the way I think about the business of making pornography.” As an editor, I made over $80,000 a year and learned slideshows are the easiest way to maximize page views. I’ve also developed TV shows, consulted on films, and worked as a branding consultant and a publicist. Was one job better than the other? Was one a waste of my time? Was one meaningful and the rest not? Does it matter? To me, it’s all the same. I’m a writer.
Awhile back, I published a digital short story: “The Tumor.” I had it professionally designed and edited. Every month, people buy copies of it on Gumroad, where consumers can pay they want ($1+) for it. It might be a bizarre fiction inspired by reality and populated by a monster, but it’s also unequivocally mine.
To young journalists, I want to say: Do whatever you want—as long as its yours.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
Jenna Jameson in Wax, Las Vegas, NV | Photo credit: Susannah Breslin
This is an excerpt from a project that I can’t talk about yet. When I wrote this last year, it was inspired by one porn star, but it’s also about porn viewers. Hopefully, I’ll be able to share more about this project in the not-so-distant future.
What about you? You’re not in the room with her. You’re down the hall, or watching the live-feed video monitor, or sitting at home in the dark with an edited version that you downloaded onto your desktop computer, or your tablet, or your mobile phone. You’re a voyeur, or a person who is curious, or looking to get off. You don’t really know why you’re watching, or you don’t really care, or maybe you understand that the girl is a person but you’re not sure you want to know too much about her or why you’re watching her, because if you know too much about her or why you’re drawn to her, that might be what someone who works in the adult movie business would call a “boner killer.” On some level, you know she’s a real person. Heck, maybe you even googled her. You think you know her because you know her name, but you only know her stage name, the name by which she has allowed you to understand some part of herself. She has named herself for a piece of fruit (like peaches), or a time of the year (like autumn), or the way she intuits she makes you feel (like you’re in a haze). The truth of the matter is that you don’t know her real name, or the real her, and frankly you don’t really want to know. At this point, you’ve seen her enough times that you could recognize her without seeing her face: by the curve of her breasts (natural or fake), the tattoo on her hip (sometimes she covers it up with makeup to make her more appealing to more people by making herself less specific), the telltale signs of her (genuine—you think? you hope?) arousal (the flush that spreads across her chest, the sounds she makes as she climaxes). You like her because: she seems happy, or she looks like your ex whom you miss, or she is the girl you always wanted and believe that you will never have. To you, in this time that you share together, she is everything and nothing—the one to whom you turn when you are lonely/bored/wanting something: It’s just you two. Then, it’s over. When you’re done with her, you turn off the device, you walk away, you don’t tell your wife/your girlfriend/your lover what you did (or maybe you do). But, either way, you know the next time you go back to her, she will be there: glowing, radiant, available on the screen. She’s your secret—the secret inside of you.
Buy my latest digital short story: “The Tumor.” It’s “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
The conference that’s considering having me do a 60-minute presentation on how to sell yourself asked me if I had any relevant video, which I didn’t, so I made a 5-minute video of myself talking about how to sell yourself. It was pretty easy to do. I used Photo Booth on my Mac. I put on a sensible top to look reasonable and glasses to look smart. I talked about being a Swiss army knife, the best advice I ever got from a TV producer, and why business jargon sucks. It probably took eight tries, and I learned that I say “um” and “like” a lot. Then, I sent it, and I was done.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
WHAT A MOMENT 😭
— Cleveland Browns (@Browns) August 9, 2019
Damon Sheehy-Guiseppi returns a punt 86 yards for a TD — and the whole bench clears to celebrate pic.twitter.com/anLZ3EEgAT
Recently, I was approached about doing a 60-minute presentation at a large tech conference. The person who’d contacted me had read this Forbes post: “How to Sell Yourself.” That post has over half a million views, and I still get emails about it. This is called evergreen content, or longtail content, or stuff that is sticky. The steps I outline are pretty simple: Create a superhuman version of yourself to sell stuff for you, be so persistent no one can ignore you, and offer the thing that no one else is offering. There’s nothing particularly novel about these ideas. But they’ve guided me along the path of my 20+-year career at every twist and turn. I’d venture that while all three ideas are important, the key is the second one. Be relentless. At some point, the dam will break.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
As seen on a Barnes & Noble bookstore shelf today: a copy of Melissa Orr’s Lean Out: The Truth About Women, Power, and the Workplace, and a copy of Sheryl Sandberg’s Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead. Needless to say, I didn’t buy either. Instead, I bought a copy of Ray Dalio’s Principles: Life and Work.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
Adult star Teanna Trump created a fashion line that couldn’t be more fitting for our times. The url? Teanna2020. The slogan? “THE ONLY TRUMP I FUCK WITH IS TEANNA.” It’s a viral sensation.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
20 Likes, 7 Comments - Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) on Instagram: "🤬"
A public service message from my Instagram feed.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
Earlier this week, AVN reported that performer / director Brandon Iron, “who had mysteriously fallen out of contact with friends since roughly mid-April, in fact died around that time in Dublin, where he had been living for several years with his girlfriend Sarah O'Brien and their daughter Lily.” A sad story. I interviewed Iron several times, and he seemed like a nice, sensitive guy. I quoted him in the most-read story I’ve ever written for Forbes: “The Hardest Thing About Being a Male Porn Star.”
According to Iron:
"‘The hardest thing about being a male porn star is convincing your female co-workers that you are an interesting, well-rounded, fun guy who they might consider dating in a parallel universe after a few drinks,’ Iron says.”
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
35 Likes, 1 Comments - Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) on Instagram: "🕶"
A post-shower selfie, in Burbank, California, from my Instagram feed.
Buy my digital short story, “The Tumor” … “a masterpiece of short fiction.”
via Pleasure Zone
Thanks to the always amazing Ecce Homo, I saw this designer dance wear sold by Pleasure Zone in Houston, Texas. There’s also Givenchy, Chanel, Gucci, Off-White, and Supreme. Because nothing says I’m worth it like logomania.
Buy a copy of my digital short story: “The Tumor” — "a masterpiece of short fiction.”
Le Sex Shoppe, Los Angeles, CA | Photo credit: Susannah Breslin
Yesterday, I tweeted some links to a project that I did a decade ago: Letters from Johns. Started on a whim (n.b.: everything interesting I’ve ever done was started on what amounted to a whim), the year-long project featured anonymous letters men wrote me about why they’d paid for sex. On Twitter, I mentioned a few that had stuck with me: “My entire life I have been trapped inside a body that I hate,” “You can, in fact, buy intimacy by the hour, even if one half of it is feigned,” “I keep a coded diary, in case it's discovered.”
What had the project revealed? What struck me as I looked through the letters a decade later was that it had provided a rarely-seen window into male vulnerability. Ten years later, men are still expected to present themselves as a cardboard cutout of masculinity. These letters showed what was hidden.
You can read more about The Letters Project, which includes Letters from Johns, Letters from Working Girls, Letters from Men Who Watch Pornography, Letters from Men Who Go to Strip Clubs, and Letters from Cheaters, and the press coverage that five-year project got here. You can read an email from a john about why he wrote me a letter here: “You were my Studs [Terkel].” And if you want to write me an email about why you’ve paid for sex, you can do so at susannahbreslin @ gmail. Who knows? Maybe I’ll relaunch the project to find out what’s changed, if anything.
Buy a copy of my digital short story: “The Tumor” — "a masterpiece of short fiction.”
I love “Euphoria.” Dreamy, ethereal, and saturated in color, it’s a kaleidoscopic, subterranean trip into the current state of teenagehood. I adore pretty much everything about it, from its stunning performances to its pep rallies to its subtextual makeup. I’m available to write for this show, Sam Levinson.
Buy a copy of my digital short story: “The Tumor” — "a masterpiece of short fiction.”
There’s an interesting article in today’s New York Times about the new Playboy. It’s intersectional, millennial, and Hefner-less. Personally, I’m looking forward to the launch of Cooper Hefner’s Stag Daily.
“Playboy no longer publishes its financial results, but Mr. Kohn said consumers spend some $3 billion on the company’s products and services each year. Relaunching the magazine, he said, made sense as a kind of ‘brand extension.’ He likened the future of the company to Gwyneth Paltrow’s Goop.”
Buy a copy of my digital short story: “The Tumor” — "a masterpiece of short fiction.”
6 Likes, 1 Comments - Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) on Instagram: "#philipjohnson"
Recently, I had the opportunity to attend the Russell Sage Foundation’s Social Science Summer Institute for Journalists. Helmed by Nicholas Lemann and Tali Woodward, it’s an intimate seminar that teaches journalists how to write about the social sciences and think like social scientists. Guests speakers included Andrea Elliott and Shamus Khan. It’s held in a Philip Johnson building on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. I’m already using the tools I acquired there. I highly recommend it for everyone: from graduate students to veteran reporters.
[Image via my Instagram]
Buy a copy of my digital short story: “The Tumor” — "a masterpiece of short fiction.”
This is a sex bench | Image via Amazon
When you’re asked to cover a supermodel and her girlfriend acquiring a sex bench, and you want to do some original reporting, you get on the phone and start calling Los Angeles sex shops. My latest on Forbes:
“Cara Delevingne and Ashley Benson Are Spotted with a $390 Sex Bench”:
“Next, I tried Hustler Hollywood in Hollywood. ‘Give me a moment,’ the woman who answered the phone told me when I asked if they had the sex bench in stock. ‘I'm going to see if we still have it in the back.’ When she returned, she revealed: ‘We have one left.’”
Like this blog? Support my work by buying a copy of my digital short story: "The Tumor." It’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
56 Likes, 5 Comments - Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) on Instagram: "This is a line from "Julie & Julia," starring Amy Adams and Meryl Streep. Adams plays a blogger..."
Over on Instagram, I reminisced about how I ended up being not-referenced-referenced in the movie “Julie & Julia.” At the time, I had a very popular blog on Salon. It was called The Reverse Cowgirl. Subsequently, a less popular blog, which was about cooking, was turned into a movie.
Like this blog? Support my work by buying a copy of my digital short story: "The Tumor." It’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
12 Likes, 0 Comments - Susannah Breslin (@susannahbreslin) on Instagram: "Iterations 🎨"
I’m taking a comics-making class, and this is something I did in the third session. It’s iterations of my main character. She’s in her underpants. I decided to take the class so I could practice drawing. What I like best about the class is that it asks you to focus on creativity. Sometimes, when you’re a journalist, creativity is not encouraged. But if journalism isn’t an act of creation, then what is it?
Buy my digital short story: "The Tumor." It’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
I did a really interesting interview with xHamster’s Alex Hawkins about an idea they had for an adult-themed coffee shop. What started out as a stunt may become the real deal. I mean, is it really that far-fetched? Consider the breastaurant. Or toilet-themed restaurants. Why not XXX?
Read: “If a Porn Company Opened an Adult-Themed Coffee Shop, Would People Come?”
Not long ago, a curious email arrived in my inbox. Apparently, xHamster, a juggernaut adult website, was launching a chain of adult-themed coffee shops. The first of its 18+ coffee shops would be in the San Fernando Valley, natch, and in Chatsworth, specifically, a neighborhood in the northwest sector known for churning out adult content. The stores would be called xHamster with Cream and would offer "adult-themed custom drinks and free, unfiltered WiFi." There was even a mission: While other coffee shops, like Starbucks, had banned adult viewing in their stores, xHamster with Cream would offer porn fans a "safe haven to get their fix."
Want more? Get my digital short story: "The Tumor." It’s been called "a masterpiece of short fiction."
Help celebrate my seven years of being cancer-free and Gumroad’s eighth birthday, aka #GumroadDay, by buying a copy of THE TUMOR, my surreal short story about marriage, malignancies, and monsters. If you’re thinking about self-publishing, I highly recommend Gumroad. Very easy to use and sell your products!
From “The Tumor”:
“My original idea was that we take her out in the yard, and that I, an expert marksman, shoot her in the breast at the site to which she had pointed, thereby destroying the tumor. My wife remained silent but shook her head vigorously. Apparently she did not agree with this unorthodox approach that I felt would provide her with the most expedient remedy.”
