Letters To The Editor For July 14
Letters will return next week.
Letters will return next week.
I’ve been a teacher of writing for 25 years in colleges and universities. I began writing for education markets five years ago when I wrote and published three editorials at The Adjunct Advocate. This week, I sold an article to an education journal about using disability literature in writing and reading classrooms.
I’ve found (and hope you will, too) that the education market is a booming platform for inspired articles about all aspects of education.
What is success? To me, true success takes us to inner happiness.
I hired a designer to create my cover and to format the interior of my book. She just finished. What are your specs?
We had a FANTASTIC 4th of July celebration on Sunday! Our good friends Mark and Corey came to visit with their niece, Lauryn.
If I had a nickel for every time a hobbyist “publisher” sent me a “help wanted” ad for writers offering no pay, I’d be able to order pizza every single night.
Letters will return next week.
As authors with books, we can learn from client advisors. True, what each of us really wants is to sell is a 328i or a romance novel. But the manner in which we do our selling is key to staying credible and authentic in a society that is filled with irritating sales folk. Plenty of authors push their paperbacks as though they are better than immortality. This can be exhausting for the customer. The real question to ponder is, do you care about your readership? Does it show?
I don’t relish the thought of admitting to my husband (or anyone else, for that matter) that this writing obsession of mine has put our finances into the red. As a means of avoiding that fate, I usually halfheartedly skim over contest listings in newsletters and blogs the same way I sort through my mail to weed out the junk. No matter how “legit” a contest was, if it required an entry fee, I would rule it out. Am I cheap? Maybe, or maybe I know how easy it would be to shell out a little bit here, a little bit there, always with my eyes on the prize until I had nothing left to show for myself but scraps of paper and tiny little pencil nubs.