About me:
I've been writing professionally for almost 20 years. In prior lives I worked as a building supply salesman, a cabdriver, an elementary school custodian, a pizza-delivery guy, a truck driver, and a humble civil servant toiling in the bowels beneath the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard.
When the task at hand involves communication, every bit of that experience counts.
I landed a gig at the Portsmouth (NH) Press in 1988 after freelancing for a while, and worked there until the paper folded a year later. It was invaluable experience. I had license to write almost anything I wanted, and learned at that tender age (I was 32) that everything I wanted to write did not necessarily deserve to be published. For the next five years I worked at The York Weekly in York, ME, where I covered the municipal beat and wrote most of the features. Learned how to crank out lots of copy on deadline, and how, even under pressure, to write accurately enough to hold my head up at Dave's IGA when I passed the people about whom I'd written unflattering things the week before.
Accepted a job at the Vermont Country Store catalog in 1996. At the time, it was probably second only to the J. Peterman catalog (remember that?) as the premier catalog gig in the country for any writer with vaguely literary ambitions (this is, unfortunately, no longer the case). The company was undergoing a major corporate metamorphosis when I arrived, and my job was to make sure our customers still believed we operated out the back room of the original wood-floored country store in Weston. It was all about managing the brand equity. Juggled all the writing for three and sometimes four catalogs at a time, including three new start-ups.
Moved to Portland, ME, in late 1999. Freelanced regularly for most of the reputable agencies in town (reputable in this case defined as: pays freelancers in a timely manner). Wrestled long and hard with the freelance copywriter's paradox: how to market writing to people who don't like to read. Grew discouraged with the business after the inauguration of George W. Bush and the events of 9/11 and went to school to get a degree in respiratory therapy. Contemplated a move to Winnepeg, of all places, then decided to stay put. Graduated, worked in health care for six months and then decided I hated it — hated it.
In the meantime I married Jodie Lapchick, who said she'd always liked the idea of having a copywriter husband as a complement to her own remarkable skills as a marketing maven and designer. She sold me on the idea. I am also a pretty good jazz drummer and am not, please be assured, the same Mark Barnette who wrote The Empire Chronicles: Children of the Anunnaki, in case you were wondering about that.