After 14 years, nine countries, and well over a thousand bylines, I decided it was time to quit my reporting gig at People magazine. With some sadness but no doubts, I fired off an open letter of resignation to dozens of recipients including People magazine staffers and a handful of top editors. The New York Post picked it up, and from there the letter went viral.The move was a long time coming, and I spell out my reasons in the letter you can find online here . The final straw wasn’t a run-in with an angry celebrity publicist or just generally being burnt out. It was the knowledge that I wasn’t valued at the weekly magazine despite years of dedication. This spring, I released my first book, a middle grade mystery, The Underdogs . People has a long history of featuring contributors’ books in its pages or online — whether the works are celebrity-related or not — but despite several requests, the editors just ignored my new book. And for me, the writing was on the wall: It was time to move on. (And yes, I also decided that if People wouldn’t promote my book, a very public resignation letter would definitely help get the word out.)For too long, I’d jumped whenever an editor called on a Saturday night or Sunday morning, and I’d cancel plans to work for little pay on a story that usually involved pounding the phones and asking strangers intimate questions about someone’s personal life. Celebrity reporter for People might sound like one of the most exciting jobs out there, but the majority of the time it’s far from glamorous.I got into this business because I wanted to write about and interview interesting people. That part of the job is certainly fascinating. But all those A-list parties and chats with gorgeous movie stars are more of a sideshow. Like any career, celebrity journalism can be a slog and very unrewarding, not to mention low-paying. I was always permalance — working full-time in the office but receiving no health insurance, paid vacation, or job security — or freelance. A typical day was less swooning over Chris Hemsworth and more of this: An overworked editor calls and says, "We need you. Big Johnny Depp story. Huge. Maybe a cover. He’s broken up with Vanessa and seems to have a new love." It would be fun to meet him, right? Wrong. I won’t be getting within a thousand miles of Mr. Depp. My task is to scour IMDB for the names of everyone who worked on any movie Johnny’s starred in for the past three years. There are hundreds of cast and crew members, from the assistant-to-the-assistant to the makeup artists to extras to gaffers to stunt doubles, and I’m supposed to ask as many of them as I can about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard first meeting on the set of The Rum Diary. I spend hours tracking down contact information with the help of the magazine’s now-tiny research department. Next, I contact dozens of complete strangers via Twitter, email, cell, whatever it takes. I curl my toes, cold-call (it never gets any less awkward), and ask about Johnny.