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I'm Quitting the Odyssey

You didn't teach me anything I didn't already know

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I'm Quitting the Odyssey

I started writing for the Odyssey more than a year ago.

At first, it sounded really good: I would get paid for getting the most shares within a week. But then I was going against girls in sororities who had 900+ friends on facebook, and of course they were going to get the most shares when Becky and Amber shared their articles to their own 900+ friends. My articles would be posted, with some mistakes and (obviously) little to no editing, and that was fine. I didn’t have Becky or Amber in my corner, but I did have my mom and my mom’s friends who teamed together to help me win the most shares.

I really owed the (maybe) $100 I won from the Odyssey to my mom’s friends. I briefly tasted what fame was like, and I might have bragged to my mom that I won out of the (maybe) 20 writers on campus. At first I thought it was an achievement. But when I saw some of the articles that had thousands of shares, I realized it wasn’t. Articles over Spongebob and gifs that perfectly explain what it’s like to talk to your crush are not journalism. They are not journalistic articles. And they are not short stories.

I’ve thought about quitting more than a few times. I’ve thought about quitting when my articles took over a month to publish in the summer. I wanted to quit when there was no explanation for how long it took for those articles to publish, either from my editor on campus or from the management editor. I wanted to quit when they finally published when I was least expecting it, with no apology. I was still expected to do my job but they could withhold an article for a third of the summer and they would still get paid while my weekly pay for shares was a thing of the past.

I wanted to quit when my editor was blocked from her Odyssey and couldn’t edit my articles, and suddenly they were being posted (and supposedly edited by the management editor) as soon as I was done writing. And I wanted to quit when my editor was trying to ask why she couldn’t access her account anymore, and no one was responding to her.

And so I’m quitting.

I’m tired of the mistakes. I’m tired of the unanswered questions. I’m tired of the Odyssey profiting off of my writing when I get nothing for it. I came to this website in hopes that I could learn more about journalism, could refine my writing, and could get paid at the same time. But no one taught me anything I didn’t already know. No one ever even talked to me.

So I’m quitting.

I’m leaving like those sorority girls did, like my college friends did, like my high school friends did, like my previous editor did.

I’m leaving because there is nothing here for me.

Thank you, Odyssey. I know now that I should only write for someone who pays me for my content. I know now that I should only write for someone who replies to my questions. You taught me a lot of things, I guess, even if you didn’t teach me how to write better articles and you never gave me any critiques and instead just published my articles willy-nilly, whenever you pleased. Because of those things, and because of everything this article is about, I only have one thing to say: fuck you.

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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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