Today we’d like to introduce you to Auriane de Rudder.
Hi Auriane, it’s an honor to have you on the platform. Thanks for taking the time to share your story with us – to start maybe you can share some of your backstory with our readers?
Hi, thanks for having me. Absolutely.
I’ve always been a writer, even when I was just a kid. Since childhood, it was books, books, books! I knew right away who I was and what I wanted to do with my life. I got lucky in that sense.
I started writing professionally for the Baltimore City Paper when I was still in college, and my ‘writing problem’ sorta’ of spiraled out from there. I worked as a journalist and freelance writer for years, off and on, mostly telling the stories of other artists, musicians and writers. I kept notes and little snippets of my own stories, but I wasn’t confident with those early in my career. So, I wrote for magazines, papers and online zines. I struggled. It’s really hard to be a freelance writer or to be a freelance artist at all. People don’t want to pay you! I tried a few times to work a responsible, straight job…do the corporate thing after college…but that was death. Sorry mom and dad, I tried, I really did.
Eventually, I got tired of the starving artist schtick and got myself a bar gig. Sometimes it was fun, sometimes it was dark, but all in all, it freed up my weekdays, and I found myself with enough time to really work on my stories. I still freelanced, but I focused less on that and more on my own stuff. I was tired of telling other people’s tales. Also, working in bars is great material. You meet ALL KINDS OF KINDS.
I moved around a lot. I went from Baltimore, where I am from, to Chicago. Up next was Nashville. Nashville was a big deal for me. The innate storytelling vibe in the South really helped me become more confident in sharing my work. Also, although it was mostly musicians, it was really helpful to be surrounded by other artists, determined to make it while they bartended to pay their bills. There was real, creative camaraderie in those years. I also got into Nashville’s first-ever Artist Residency, the Ryman Lofts and that was a game changer. Not only was I granted discounted rent in a safe, new building, but there was a real validation to being accepted there. This was proof: I was an artist, dammit.
Eventually, I tired of Nashville. The city grew, as cities are wont to do, and generally started sucking. It got less kitsch and more commercial. Old, run-down honky-tonks got bought out by Country superstars, and it seemed every day someone new to town had come from LA. I thought, “Well, Hell. If all of LA is moving here, I guess they have room for me in LA.” I researched artist residencies and found one in San Pedro. A year later–although that residency fell through–I moved to California. I settled in Long Beach, and I’m still here.
I don’t bartend anymore, and I don’t miss it. I do attribute a lot of my storytelling style to sharing stories with bar regulars over the years, so I’m glad that I did it. Also, bartenders have always seen the craziest shit, right? Like I said before it was definitely a good environment for a writer. Plus, fuck being a starving artist. Make money, babes. Feed yourselves!
Nowadays, I work solely for myself. I have published three books– Rebound, a parable about modern drinking that is thinly veiled as a sex and dating memoir, Not Literary, a collection of short, nostalgic stories created during the weirdness that was 2020, and How to Kill Your Chihuahua, a coffee table book that I co-created with Brooklyn artist Jesse Cooley. I have a new fiction novel coming out in April or May, depending on how hard I work, called Funeral Party. I’m really excited about that one! I also host the Not LIterary Podcast, which is a storytelling show with a boozey afterparty, and starting this January, I’ll be hosting the Why Horror? Podcast with longtime friend and collaborator Justin Mayfield. I’m really excited for that, too. Not a lot of my audience is aware that I’m a total ‘Horror Whore,’ as Justin and I like to say, so it should be fun to show that side. I’m excited to connect with other horror fans and get into all the reasons why we love the genre so much. All of that falls under the ‘Auriane de Rudder’ brand, but I also teach painting classes and host live painting events with my other company, Pop!Art Studios. I stay busy!
We all face challenges, but looking back would you describe it as a relatively smooth road?
Ha, definitely not!
I think the money issue was the original struggle. Trying to get paid as an artist can be maddening. It seems everyone wants to utilize your talents for free, for “exposure,” or for some whack-ass trade. Guess what? I don’t need a free massage or “exposure.” I need to pay my rent! Navigating which jobs will actually pay can be so exhausting, I barely felt like I had time for the creative part of my job after sorting though all the scams.
Also, while working in bars was great money, bar owners can be awful alcoholics. And so can I, apparently. I definitely drank too much during those years and put up with some terrible abuse from some terrible bosses. When I quit, it took almost a year to detox, get my head screwed on straight, and shake off that damage.
Working for myself is a million times better, I’m a nice boss, but it’s much more work. I have to spin a lot of plates to keep all the creative stuff going, and it leaves very little room for fuckery. Now and then I want to just get drunk, act like an idiot and blow it all. But isn’t that everyone?
Finally, to quote the always-inspiring Erykah Badu, “I’m an artist. I’m sensitive about my shit.” I still get nervous that I’m not good enough, or that my work won’t reach my audience, or that I’ll never really ‘make it,’ whatever that even means. The truth is, I think this is what ‘making it’ feels like.
Can you tell our readers more about what you do and what you think sets you apart from others?
I’m known as a hardworking party girl and I write funny, dark stories. I’d like to think that my lack of pretention is what sets me apart from other writers. That’s also what I hear from my best reviewers, and I love that. So thanks guys! I’m not a pretentious snob, woo hoo!
We’d love to hear about how you think about risk taking?
I threw all my money, all my time, and all my energy into working for myself in 2020. It was a risky thing to do–and trust me, I was shitting my pants half the time–but it worked. I doubled my income, which I didn’t expect, and things keep getting better. So I guess I’d consider myself a risk-taker. But in 2020, everything felt like a risk. I was like…”What if it doesn’t work out? What if everything turns to shit?” But, like, in 2020, everything had already turned to shit. What did I have to lose?
Contact Info:
- Website: aurianederudder.com
- Instagram: aurianederudder
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/auriane.derudder.7
- Other: tiktok.com/@aurianderudder
