My father always used to tell me that I could talk my way through anything so well that I should be an attorney. I agreed with him that my ability to craft an argument was well-tuned, but I didn’t want to spend my life defending the bad guys or evil corporations that could afford to pay the exorbitant fees that I envisioned charging. Instead, I sought to follow my heart using my “B.S. Skills,” as my father referred to them, to my best advantage on the written page. It has been a long, winding road with some steep hills along the way, but today I am writer and a happy one.
sweat equity, n.1: Work, especially manual labor, performed in return for a share in ownership, as of a home. (The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language: Fourth Edition. 2000.) If an author offers you a percentage of his or her future book’s profits as payment for your sweat equity up front, beware. I’ve learned […]
It was my first official day as a full time freelance. I was still asleep when the phone rang. (Yes, I slept in my first day on the job — tsk, tsk). It was my editor from a well-known entertainment trade paper.
Nine years ago I sat in my dermatologist’s waiting room mentally shuffling the remaining working hours left in my day. I felt unproductive, stalled… and itchy. I’ve gone to the same dermatologist for years; catching up is always the first order of my visits-zits and skin irritations must wait patiently. That day, as we chatted, […]
I built my freelance career on those three words. “You never know,” I’d say to myself as I followed up on a job opportunity, hoping it would lead to paying work that I could add to the other paying work I was doing. Eventually, I hoped, that pile of paying work would allow me to become a full-time writer and toss my day job.
As embarrassing as it is to admit, my first paid newsletter assignment was for a dormitory at the University of Massachusetts. The Stall Street Journal was proudly posted on the inside of every bathroom stall in the building. Despite it being read while dorm residents were busy doing other things, or that my writers received story assignments as punishment by the residence director, I loved the job.
Little did I know when my marriage broke up–actually, down–that writing would become a lifeline, drawing me out of depression, or that my freelance career was about to take off. My success since then has been due to desperation, determination, and dumb luck.
Rejection. It’s a problem I’ve dealt with my whole life. It usually stems from my need to share voluminous amounts of detail with my audience.
I write comic books. So do writers you may have actually heard of like Stephen King, Kevin Smith, Max Allan Collins, Brad Meltzer and Greg Rucka. Should you? Well, in 2002 over 67 million comic books were ordered through Diamond Distribution, America’s largest comic book distributor, with total sales topping $190 million. Helping those sales […]