Theodora Sarah Abigail's Blog

A heart never breaks all at once. It does so in parts, much like a good book. Each turn of a page reveals new horrors–new ways of experiencing similar pains–and as you read on you hold secret hopes that certain characters will soon exit the premises. At the same time you hope for others to return. You furtively eyeball the words of each page until they become blurry, looking for the slightest mention of a place where you might find solace. A sneak peek of what’s to come.

I talk often about solace because I am often looking for it everywhere–in temporary obsessions, in half-finished ghost stories, in other people. I have a tendency to lean towards others in my most desperate moments, and when that fails, to run headlong into text. Words have definitely indefinite meanings, and clumps of words can be manipulated to a heart’s content. They stave off sorrow, allowing a person to disguise all of their uncomfortable emotions with elusive statements and intimated double meanings.

I never want to write when I am happy. In fact, I have never met a writer writes when they are happy. The secret of a good writer is that, no matter how lovely or successful they seem or become, they are each struggling with their secret animal. Each one acts as a subtext hidden within the overarching narrative. We write because we are selfish, and it is our ambition to define the boundaries of where we lie and where others begin. Writing is the hunt for that secret animal–the fulfilment of our wish to tame it.

I read a single act of Sartre’s Huis Clos in high school without knowing it was the source of the oft-quoted “Hell–is–other people!”. But the more I think about it the more this seems wrong to me. Humans, whether in hell or heaven or purgatory or somewhere in between, suffer as a result of their own hopes and desires. They project their own wants into the story they are reading; when the ending turns out a different way they feel disappointed and upset. This is attachment, the Buddhists would say, to the material world. This desire is what ruins us, and what ultimately prevents us from reading the story as a good one.

 

 

The post I Write When I Am Sad, and Hell is Other People appeared first on Theodora Sarah Abigail: Jakarta Copywriter and Poet.

I, for one, can not handle music while working. The best I can do is rainymood.com with a splash of Ghibli instrumentals in the background; anything with actual words often leads to increasingly passionate karaoke.

Even on days when I’m too grumpy to sing, I still find it hard to focus. Realizing this has helped me fine-tune my work process: in the past, I would simply try to grin and bear it. The result was always awful, and I’d often end up deleting a majority of whatever I’d written during that session.

It’s not just music, really. It’s almost any sound. I’m the type of person who prefers to work on things in one sitting, and I guess music–or conversation–anything at all–is capable of bringing my train of thought to a soulsucking halt.

Learning new things about the way I work is my new method of self-study. I’m not sure if I’m glorifying work too much here; I’m sure that in a perfect and utopian world people would never have to work. But to be honest, I enjoy the process of writing. I see new article topics as challenges to solve, and with each new day I learn about new concepts. Today, for example, I learned about the Sustainable Development Goals. Yesterday, I learned about new water purification techniques that are being developed by private companies.

I’ve found that I love my job. I’ve found that I am still, after all this time, a highly competitive person–and that I do my best when I feel compelled to prove that I am capable. I’ve also found that I think most clearly in a locked and silent room.

A few years ago the thought of loving silence would have spooked me. Many years ago I feared the quiet, and solitude–to the point where I would force my eyes open during a shower, no matter how much soap crept in.

Silence had a body with a presence and a voice all its own. I couldn’t stand the idea of being alone with this strange and foreign thing, of hearing my voice bounce off its limbs — and so I avoided it whenever possible. But no matter how I tried to establish distance, it continued to pursue me. Despite every radio and hallway and corner and locked door I placed in her path, she showed up and made herself comfortable in the corner. Just sitting there. Waiting and watching for something to happen. Living in this type of home felt like being wrapped in a silken cocoon, with gauzy layers of sound separating me from the rest of the world. It felt like being eternally drunk and scrambling for something to hang on to.

Why, then, did I come to long for it? You spend so long together with someone else eventually you start looking for the other when they’ve gone — this even though at first you swore you’d always hate them, and that you would stay cold and distant. One day you wake up and you realize you’ve given in. You can no longer live without that presence.

It reminds me of something my husband said during a discussion–that you can’t spend that much time with a person and not love them at least a little.

Perhaps, over all these years of living together, my body has learned to love the quiet.

–

(Note: there is one artist I can listen to while working. That’s Aerocity, an old friend of mine from Twitter).

The post Listening to Music While Working: Yes, No, or Maybe? appeared first on Theodora Sarah Abigail: Jakarta Copywriter and Poet.

That (the title) just seems so weird to me. Me? A copywriter? Content strategist? Getting paid to write?

For the past few years I’ve had the good fortune to work on a number of very interesting marketing and content projects in Jakarta and Singapore. If you told me five years ago that I’d dip my toes into Southeast Asian startup scenes and help companies here craft interesting blogs and compelling websites, I probably would’ve rolled my eyes. For quite a few years I used to think very lowly of Asia; working there would’ve seemed like a downgrade from whatever menial job I might find over in the States. Thanks, American education system (and the fact that my brothers and I were never truly exposed to scenes of daily life in countries that weren’t the good ‘ol US of A).

And I remember when I was in high school and my mother told me to consider a career in technical or copy writing. Bahumbug!, I thought. Who wants to write for a living?

I do, it turns out.

It’s interesting–after several years of nonstop work I’ve found myself in the tech-business-healthcare niche. Or more precisely, the startup niche. I’ve written for startups all over the planet, from the bigger ones to the super-local, homegrown companies. Some are solving clunky and outdated healthcare status quos; others are simply trying to grow their gelato truck business.

In today’s world startup founders seem very glamorous. No one wants to be a boring entrepreneur anymore, they want to be a founder. They want to make waves. They want to [insert a bunch of cool-sounding buzzwords here about impact and magic and rockstar changes]. They want to scale their company and launch in [arbitrary number] new countries by the end of Q4. 

Something like that.

The reason I work as a freelance content writer (loosely based in Jakarta and Tangerang) is simple. I can’t do anything else. I’ve been offered several full-time jobs in places like Kuningan, but my current living situation makes it impossible for me to commute on a daily basis. This “shackle” that limits me to remote jobs has also given me the freedom to work with so many interesting clients with admirable visions and missions, and though on some days I desperately wish for the stability of a fixed income, most weeks I’m awestruck by the variety of founders I get to meet. They have so many unique ways of thinking; ask each of them to solve the same problem and you’d probably get five or six different, totally creative, mostly crazy, and absolutely interesting solutions.

So much growth is happening in Southeast Asia, and I’m lucky that I moved here when I did. Seeing the “scene” (I loathe that word, but regrettably, it’s apt) develop before my eyes is awe-inspiring. Just a few years ago, Gojek was a simple idea in Nadiem Makarim’s head. Now, it’s changed the face of a nation. Which companies will follow suit? Which will fall apart? Who will be the next villain?

Ultimately the startup story is a human story; a new way to save the world or to conquer it. In one ring you have Elizabeth Holmes, a Helen of Troy gone wrong. In the other you have Martin Shkreli, who found out the hard way that messing with the Wu-Tang Clan dooms you to a life of suffering (I jest). People give in to greed and lust and desire all the time; they put in hours after countless hours to try and become the best versions of themselves, too.

I empathize with startup founders, though I personally would never want to become one. It’s a hard, lonely world–my experience with a community of Series A-B founders has emphasized that immensely. We idolize founders without properly taking the time to consider the burdens placed on their shoulders, the constraints they have to face, the struggle of juggling a tech team and operations team and finance team. The pain of having to scale faster and faster while doing it sustainably, of having to walk in to an investor meeting without knowing what the outcome will be.

In the long run, I’m just a tiny cog in the brutish, beautiful world of startups. And I guess you could ask: why tech? Why business and healthcare and startups in general?

My dad has always loved technology; in my childhood he was the kind of guy to buy a new phone and test it for a few days before returning it (or keeping it, if he liked it). He’s the one who lets me access his CBT Nuggets accounts when I have free time, the one who bought me a massive Snap Circuits kit when I was in middle school so that I could make little LED bulbs light up. I still have fond memories of seeing him playing Warcraft when I was five or six, and it’s a shame that I was just so artistically inclined. If I’d liked math more I might’ve followed his footsteps and gotten a tech or electrical engineering degree.

I’m glad, then, that his influence has guided me here. Here is where I get to blend my inherited love for beta testing and new technology with my obsession for art and stories and words. Here is where I get to see the world develop. Here is where I get to view the splendor of human hearts as they do their best and change, quite literally, entire worlds. Though I think sometimes about retreating entirely and sticking to literary writing, I know that I probably will never be able to follow through. Something always pulls me back here.

I actually was intending on writing this as some smarmy direct-sales SEO-targeted post to advertise my content writing services for potential clients based in Southeast Asia, but I guess I don’t have the heart to do so. Here’s my call-to-action anyways: if you need someone to consult with about a website or just need a friend’s shoulder to cry on as endless deadlines loom, I’m here.

And thanks, you guys (my clients, I mean, if you’re reading this), for taking a chance on me. Thanks for the super-straightforward instructions (I need 2000-word evergreen articles each about these plants, here’s the spreadsheet) and for the personal connections. (I guess I’m supposed to name drop here to build credibility but that’s just so smarmy, LOL).

If you feel like my experience could be of use to you, then drop me a message below. Don’t forget to tell me your favorite breakfast food; mine is definitely fluffy pancakes drizzled with artificially-sweetened maple syrup and fresh-cut berries. And I hope you have a lovely day, a good meeting, a gentle weekend ahead.

The post Ebi, a Jakarta Copywriter and Content Strategist appeared first on Theodora Sarah Abigail: Jakarta Copywriter and Poet.

For the past few years I’ve had the good fortune to work on a number of very interesting marketing and content projects in Jakarta and Singapore. If you told me five years that I’d dip my toes into Southeast Asian startup scenes and help companies here craft interesting blogs and compelling websites, I probably would’ve rolled my eyes. For quite a few years I used to think very lowly of Asia; working there would’ve seemed like a downgrade from whatever menial job I might find over in the States. Thanks, American education system (and the fact that my brothers and I were never truly exposed to scenes of daily life in countries that weren’t the good ‘ol US of A).

And I remember when I was in high school and my mother told me to consider a career in technical or copy writing. Bahumbug!, I thought. Who wants to write for a living?

I do, it turns out.

It’s interesting–after several years of nonstop work I’ve found myself in the tech-business-healthcare niche. Or more precisely, the startup niche. I’ve written for startups all over the planet, from the bigger ones to the super-local, homegrown companies. Some are solving clunky and outdated healthcare status quos; others are simply trying to grow their gelato truck business.

In today’s world startup founders seem very glamorous. No one wants to be a boring entrepreneur anymore, they want to be a founder. They want to make waves. They want to [insert a bunch of cool-sounding buzzwords here about impact and magic and rockstar changes]. They want to scale their company and launch in [arbitrary number] new countries by the end of Q4. 

Something like that.

The reason I work as a freelance content writer (loosely based in Jakarta and Tangerang) is simple. I can’t do anything else. I’ve been offered several full-time jobs in places like Kuningan, but my current living situation makes it impossible for me to commute on a daily basis. This “shackle” that limits me to remote jobs has also given me the freedom to work with so many interesting clients with admirable visions and missions, and though on some days I desperately wish for the stability of a fixed income, most weeks I’m awestruck by the variety of founders I get to meet. They have so many unique ways of thinking; ask each of them to solve the same problem and you’d probably get five or six different, totally creative, mostly crazy, and absolutely interesting solutions.

So much growth is happening in Southeast Asia, and I’m lucky that I moved here when I did. Seeing the “scene” (I loathe that word, but regrettably, it’s apt) develop before my eyes is awe-inspiring. Just a few years ago, Gojek was a simple idea in Nadiem Makarim’s head. Now, it’s changed the face of a nation. Which companies will follow suit? Which will fall apart? Who will be the next villain?

Ultimately the startup story is a human story; a new way to save the world or to conquer it. In one ring you have Elizabeth Holmes, a Helen of Troy gone wrong. In the other you have Martin Shkreli, who found out the hard way that messing with the Wu-Tang Clan dooms you to a life of suffering (I jest). People give in to greed and lust and desire all the time; they put in hours after countless hours to try and become the best versions of themselves, too.

I empathize with startup founders, though I personally would never want to become one. It’s a hard, lonely world–my experience with a community of Series A-B founders has emphasized that immensely. We idolize founders without properly taking the time to consider the burdens placed on their shoulders, the constraints they have to face, the struggle of juggling a tech team and operations team and finance team. The pain of having to scale faster and faster while doing it sustainably, of having to walk in to an investor meeting without knowing what the outcome will be.

In the long run, I’m just a tiny cog in the brutish, beautiful world of startups. And I guess you could ask: why tech? Why business and healthcare and startups in general?

My dad has always loved technology; in my childhood he was the kind of guy to buy a new phone and test it for a few days before returning it (or keeping it, if he liked it). He’s the one who lets me access his CBT Nuggets accounts when I have free time, the one who bought me a massive Snap Circuits kit when I was in middle school so that I could make little LED bulbs light up. I still have fond memories of seeing him playing Warcraft when I was five or six, and it’s a shame that I was just so artistically inclined. If I’d liked math more I might’ve followed his footsteps and gotten a tech or electrical engineering degree.

I’m glad, then, that his influence has guided me here. Here is where I get to blend my inherited love for beta testing and new technology with my obsession for art and stories and words. Here is where I get to see the world develop. Here is where I get to view the splendor of human hearts as they do their best and change, quite literally, entire worlds. Though I think sometimes about retreating entirely and sticking to literary writing, I know that I probably will never be able to follow through. Something always pulls me back here.

I actually was intending on writing this as some smarmy direct-sales SEO-targeted post to advertise my content writing services for potential clients based in Southeast Asia, but I guess I don’t have the heart to do so. Here’s my call-to-action anyways: if you need someone to consult with about a website or just need a friend’s shoulder to cry on as endless deadlines loom, I’m here.

And thanks, you guys (my clients, I mean, if you’re reading this), for taking a chance on me. Thanks for the super-straightforward instructions (I need 2000-word evergreen articles each about these plants, here’s the spreadsheet) and for the personal connections. (I guess I’m supposed to name drop here to build credibility but that’s just so smarmy, LOL).

If you feel like my experience could be of use to you, then drop me a message below. Don’t forget to tell me your favorite breakfast food; mine is definitely fluffy pancakes drizzled with artificially-sweetened maple syrup and fresh-cut berries. And I hope you have a lovely day, a good meeting, a gentle weekend ahead.

The post Startup Content and Copywriting in Jakarta appeared first on Theodora Sarah Abigail.

I often think back to three or four years ago, when I managed to post something nearly every week on my blog. I know that plenty of other people lament the loss of Geocities websites, confessional (and admittedly ugly) online journals, and more. Nowadays most people are very careful about what they post, share, and say online. On top of that, there’s such a push to be polished and to create content vs. to simply blog. Everything has to be optimized, the pictures have to be slick and gorgeous… the posts have to read like stories. God forbid you have any typos.

I’m trying to let go of that push to create content and to simply be honest. That’s what drove the creation of my book–blunt honesty about imperfections. It can be difficult some days, especially since my work as a copy+content writer is tied directly to my real identity . Whenever I’m about to reveal something incredibly personal, a part of me thinks, “Don’t you want to be as professional as possible?”

But then I remind myself that we’re all telling human stories here. Regardless of whether my client is a MNC or homegrown business, there are humans running things. And I think (I hope) that my imperfections, slight awkwardness, and smile can be charming.

Hmm, what else? Indo Twitter has been a fiasco for the past few days, with controversies popping up left and right. I’ve been listening to a lot of pop music over the past few days–TWICE and Bol4 and, of course, IU. I’m also working on my next book, which will be a collection of poetry–and I think I have a working title! There’s a lot of stuff left to rearrange and fix in that manuscript, so you guys probably won’t see it until 2020. Apologies for that!

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about motherhood and parenthood. It’s funny and a bit concerning that mothers are always expected or demanded to sacrifice their hopes and wishes. Honestly, I’m more than sick of being told that I’m selfish for working; that I need to support my husband more; that I’m not subservient enough; that I’m not doing enough to help my husband achieve his maximum potential. What about me? What about my aspirations? What about my maximum potential? I really hate this provincial depiction of marriage as the whole “woman helps man” deal; my husband and I support each other, and we’re doing our best to grow and parent together.

It’s different now. Women will only become more empowered in the future. I envision a day when women will no longer be bought and sold by their families for dowries, when women can choose to go to school or to get married or both, when women can walk down the street without fearing retribution or harassment. I simply hope my daughter inherits a better world.

The post The Slick and Gorgeous World appeared first on Theodora Sarah Abigail.

I know I don’t look it, but I do have quite a few tattoos now–5–and I figured it was time to make a recommendation of my favorite tattooists in Jakarta, Bali, and the rest of Indonesia. Many tattooists in Indonesia use hourly pricing and work in studios–a single studio usually consists of four or five different artists. I’ll add a link to the Bali studio blog post a bit later!

Sidespace Parlour

Address: Brew & Wood Coffee (3rd floor), Jl. Puri Mutiara Ruko 35A, RT.9/RW.11, Cilandak Bar., Daerah Khusus Ibukota Jakarta 12430

Prices: Rp. 850.000 minimum, ~Rp. 1.650.000 per hour

Sidespace moved from Kuningan to Cilandak at the end of 2018 (ish?) and I have to say that their new place is both beautiful and comfortable. It’s well-lit, with the AC on on full blast, and there’s a coffee shop on the lower level in case you get thirsty. They’ve always opened the tattoo needles directly in front of me and I feel very safe around everyone there. In case you don’t want to make conversation, there’s super-fast Wifi

I know I don’t look it, but I do have quite a few tattoos now–5–and I figured it was time to make a recommendation of my favorite tattooists in Jakarta, Bali, and the rest of Indonesia. Many tattooists in Indonesia use hourly pricing and work in studios–a single studio usually consists of four or five different artists. I’ll add a link to the Bali studio blog post a bit later!

Sidespace Parlour

Address: Brew & Wood Coffee (3rd floor), Jl. Puri Mutiara Ruko 35A, RT.9/RW.11, Cilandak Bar., Daerah Khusus Ibukota Jakarta 12430

Prices: Rp. 850.000 minimum, ~Rp. 1.650.000 per hour

Sidespace moved from Kuningan to Cilandak at the end of 2018 (ish?) and I have to say that their new place is both beautiful and comfortable. It’s well-lit, with the AC on on full blast, and there’s a coffee shop on the lower level in case you get thirsty. They’ve always opened the tattoo needles directly in front of me and I feel very safe around everyone there. In case you don’t want to make conversation, there’s super-fast Wifi

Coffee consultation
Rp. 600.000 per session (2+ hours)

If you’d like writing advice, or want to show me some poems you’ve written, or simply want to chat about the way the wind careens through the trees, then I’d love to make time for you. We can choose a weekend to meet, and I’ll share my processes with you while guiding you on your own journey.

The price is inclusive of:

A care package that contains

Simple dried flower bouquet
Postcards
Signed zine (or book)
Stationery 
Hand-decorated Kraft notebook


Personal (1-on-1) career, life, and writing consultation
Coffee 
Digital booklet

Handcrafted questions + workbook
Relevant quotes
Summary + notes of our session

 

We’ll choose four to five different topics (or poems, or essays, or questions) to talk about so that you can find clarity and gain actionable advice towards achieving your goals, no matter what they are. You can leverage my experience as a copywriter, content writer, and published author to your heart’s delight. We can also spend some of our time chatting about life, family, God (if you believe in him) and relationships. 

You can choose from Saturday or Sunday afternoons.

 

Available Dates
July – August 2018 
Jakarta

Come talk to me wherever you are, as long as you’re in Jakarta. I’d love to consult for you about copywriting, content writing, journalism, or your love life — though, admittedly, my own isn’t always pristine. 

October 24 – 28 2018
bali

During this weekend, I’ll be in Bali for a secret event! If you fancy a coffee break or would like to have dinner with me, feel free to RSVP through the link below. We can watch the sun set and drink some fruity teas, or something.

november – december 2018
jakarta

Once upon a time, I spent the end of the year in Jogjakarta. Now, though, I’ve settled in the ferocious capital of Indonesia. As long as we’re meeting in Jakarta or Tangerang, I’ll make my way to you.

  

  

FAQ
I’m a student, can I get a discount?

Of course. High school and college students are waived 40% of the session fee, and are only charged Rp. 350.000. You’ll receive all the same materials and instructions, plus the care package.

Where will the session be held?

I can travel to most places in Jakarta and Tangerang! I hope that one day I can offer sessions in other cities as well. If you can’t make it to Jakarta/Tangerang but would still like to have a session with me, you could always enjoy a digital workshop with me via Comma Books.

 

 

What’s this about a book?

 

In The Hands of a Mischievous God (KPG 2017)

“This is a very tumultuous journey of self-discovery, and I worry that once I finally arrive at the door step of myself, I will knock – and the door will open to reveal an empty house.  

In The Hands of a Mischievous God is an intimate portrait of a young artist and her earliest memories. This stunning collection is written with frank, disarming honesty, and ranges from reflections on the rooms in her childhood home to her views on the concept of love. Each essay follows the red strings of fate and explores just what it means for a girl to grow up.”

#mischievousgodbook was published in December 2017 for the first time by KPG Gramedia. There are 10-11 essays inside (depending on which edition you have). It was reprinted for a second time on August 2017. You can purchase it through any of the following links:

Gramedia


Instagram


Amazon

 

It’s funny that I’m only updating this blog now, a full month after we went to Bandung. Sorry, everyone!

First stop: Kawah Putih! We left for this tourist destination at around 10 or 11 am from Lembang (later than intended).

This place looks EXACTLY like it does in the photos on Google. So if you plan to go here to adventure, and you hope to discover something magical and wonderful and something more, then… you shouldn’t go.

It’s nice to do a bit of hiking at Kawah Putih, but like many places in Indonesia, there are lots and lots of hawkers waiting to sell you things. It also smells like sulfur. There are plenty of souvenir shops lining some of the roads, and you can ride a horse around for a few minutes (similar to Bromo). I’d definitely recommend Bromo if you’re looking for the mountain-and-horse-riding experience.

That being said, we did have some fun here, and it was interesting to see the crater up close.

You don’t have to stay overnight at the Maribaya Hot Springs Resort to enjoy it. I can’t seem to recall what happened between Kawah Putih and Maribaya, but we arrived here at around 4 pm—which means we only had an hour to explore the place!

We were a bit disappointed to discover that the resort was less of a hiking destination and more of a series of paid photo opportunities—from 15-16 of the Instagrammable places that you could take pictures at, a majority of them were ticketed. It was absolutely beautiful, but considering we were hoping to find some sort of magical forest wonderland here….

well…

:’)

Fairy Land (?) is a whole new attraction built by the same people who built Maribaya. Since it was still under construction, the tickets were given as a bonus to drum up attention for the place. And it worked! Fortunately for us, it closed at 6—we spent an hour wandering around this place. There are so many fun child-friendly activities and attractions here, like a wooden playground, a massive seesaw, and cute-and-slightly-terrifying fairy statues. If you have children, it’s absolutely worth a visit!

We didn’t stop by Kampung Daun this time! Instead, we ate dinner, then drove to Bukit Moko. This is the view from the top of the hill—gorgeous, right? From this point, it looked like the city lights really were stars. I swear that I could see them twinkling in the distance (or maybe my eyes were just broken).

The drive up to Bukit Moko is frightening, mainly because there are very few lights. Make sure to download Waze before you head there! The map point is in the right place; you just have to follow it allllll the way up the hill. We arrived to the hill at 10 or 11 pm, and had to walk 1-2 kilometers since the road up was also under construction.

There were some men hanging around the gate. After charing us Rp. 10.000 to enter, we made our way up and finally found a few ojek who agreed to bring us to the top for Rp. 10.000 each.

We stayed for about 3 hours, then made our way back down and drove to Jakarta that night.