It's been almost eight years, and I can still feel the gut wrench. Up to that day, I'd been contributing tens of thousands of words to a prominent how-to publisher's books, all at a handsome per word rate, for an editor I'd met only by phone but adored. Now, the voice on the other end of the line was telling me she would be in charge. This Ms. LB would give me a small sample assignment at the usual per word rate, but no promises. …
I love it when someone asks what I do, and I reply that I am a writer. Because predictably, the next question they ask is what my "real" job is. Then I get to tell them that I actually do support my household as a writer, and have for a long time - and still have running water, eat out, own a home, and do all the other things that normal people do. After a hushed silence, people then often ask, "How do you do it?" Glad you asked! Here, in summary form, is how I make a real livelihood as a writer... …
Although I have kept journals and written reports for work through the years, I have never considered myself a "writer". That word evokes images of well-known authors from the past and the present, not someone like me. …
I had a few minutes to spare one summer day, so I dashed into a bookstore and made my way to the magazine racks. There I saw shiny colorful cover after shiny colorful cover. Each one beckoning "choose me", "pick me", "take me home", "how about me?". Unexpectedly, my hand wandered to a publication I had never seen before. This one had a colorful glossy cover like most of the others in the rack. However, through some quirk of fate, my hand grabbed this one. As I paged through, I noticed a bold print advertisement. The publisher was actively seeking travel articles. Hey, I said to myself, take a chance. You never know. …
Being fat had its obvious rewards. Writing with an open box of Sugar Pops next to my thick thigh had always been a comfort. When I lacked ideas, chewing on a mouthful of pretzels helped stimulate my brain. A Dairy Queen Blizzard or an Entenmann's Pound Cake helped steady my nerves when I became anxious about exceeding a word count. Food helped me write. Food helped me be funny. But when the scale topped 225 pounds and my doctor started screaming things at me about killing myself a little more every time I chomped down another super-sized portion of French fries or inhaling a pizza by myself, I knew it was time to repair my body and, as an unexpected side effect, put a little spice in my creative spirit. …
When I graduated with a journalism degree in 2000, I thought literary writing was the only thing worth doing. I wanted my writing to enlighten, to touch people deeply and maybe even to change the world one word at a time. I was also in my early twenties, so of course I knew absolutely everything. Now several years later I know otherwise. …
This was the first Saturday that prospective buyers would traipse through my house considering it as their own, and I had it immaculate. Walking out back to sweep the patio, I stopped in my tracks. A hundred fish floated belly-up to the sun with a stench to curdle your breakfast. I frantically called the homeowners association who had dumped the new fish in the lake that week. Frustrated with their lack of concern, and angered at the fact that several house hunters were passing us by, I wrote a letter to the local newspaper editor. Surprisingly, the editor emailed me that my fanatical opinion instead was being considered for the editorial page with a $50 payment. …
My family and I recently moved to Central California after living in Las Vegas for only 18 months. Before that, we were living in Southern California, where my husband, sons, and I had lived for years. I began my freelancing career there, finding steady work with local magazines, newspapers, and television stations. When we moved to Las Vegas, I was fortunate enough to find work with three different regional magazines, and two of them are still using my work, even though I no longer live in the state. …
As a gray-haired, solo, full-time RVer, and a woman to boot, I am used to getting a lot of media attention as I roam around Canada and the United States lecturing and signing my five adventure-travel books. …
"There is a communion of more than our bodies when bread is broken and wine drunk," writes M.F.K. Fisher, one of America's most beloved food writers. My own belief in this communion didn't so much evolve as simply hatch, breaking open like a crusty baguette, the year I worked in my first restaurant. When a friend loaned me Elizabeth David's An Omelet and A Glass of Wine, I was inspired to articulate how good food is an essential part of life. …
I remember the night I took the call from my future writing partner, Catherine Tully. What she told me was the first step on a long journey of failure, frustration and eventually, freelance writing success. Catherine had called to share her excitement in having an article accepted for publication in Boys' Life. It was her first query and she had made four hundred dollars. From that moment on I saw dollar signs. …
Years ago I queried a Christian magazine with a family topic, and they agreed to review it on spec. I was thrilled, since previous queries had been flatly rejected... …
Kelly James-Enger coined a phrase in which I recognize myself: "an extrovert in an introvert's job." Sure, I love the concentrated effort of writing, but I equally enjoy social situations. I especially like asking a lot of questions without people thinking I'm nosey or rude. In fact, interviewing is how I first got my name in a national magazine. …
About a year after I started freelancing, I was getting pretty good at accepting rejections. Instead of letting it ruin my day, I would view a "No, thank you" response (as I prefer to call them), as part of the game. Usually, I would take the query, give it another good look, tweak it if needed, and send it out to someone else. …
A sign on the wall of my high school weight room said "Attitude is essential. A good one will get you far." As a teenager who knew it all, I rolled my eyes and walked away. It turned out to be one of those lessons I had to learn the hard way. In 2002, I got laid off from my fabulous online editing job thanks to the .com bust. I freaked out for awhile and, once reality set in, I decided to go solo. …
I always longed to be a writer. My friends considered me one; in spite of the fact that my only publishing credits were letters to the editor. Yet I always looked for writing opportunities at every local publication or job I held. My husband encouraged me to pursue my dream. But with three small children (one with serious kidney, allergy, and asthma problems), my dream of becoming a writer seemed more elusive than ever. …
"Please get your shoes on, Girlies. Mommy has a mail drop to make before 5:00!" I help my two small daughters put on their tennis shoes, grab my stack of manila envelopes, and head out the door. …
After being laid off four times in as many years, I knew I could do better in freelance writing than as an executive secretary. I had been writing piecemeal for a few magazines and newspapers for years; however, once my day job evaporated, I put all my energy into freelancing. …
Upon finding out that I was pregnant in 2004, I made the decision that I was going to become a freelance writer so that I could be a work-at-home mom. Staying home to raise my daughter means so much to me, yet like most families we rely on two incomes. Although I wasn't new to writing, I was new to freelancing so I spent months reading every book I could my hands on regarding the subject. Three months before my daughter was born, I quit my job and dove right into freelance writing. …
A meeting with my manager let me know my job performance was not up to snuff. My dismissal was inevitable, and after the obligatory flurry of tissue and kind words, I was sent on my way. My manager assured me that I'd be just fine. "After all, you've got all these stories in the newspaper. That must bring in some money." …
We had four kids, a mortgage, car payments and assorted bills. What better time to become a full-time freelance writer? I neglected to mention I also had a wife - a very supportive wife - who still remains very supportive. Of course, when I told her I'd be working at home, she went out and got a job. …
Two framed check stubs sit side by side in my office. The first, for $5.00, recalls the first time I got paid to write what I love. There were numerous small steps that followed, and I often doubted I would break into the "big time" publications whose recognition I so craved. …
When I wrote A Guerrilla Manual for Adult College Students, I never imagined that I would actually make much money on the deal. I wrote it mostly because I thought a few prospective adult college students might get some benefit from all of the years of mistakes I made when I went to college as an adult. …
About a year ago I came up with a brilliant idea. I was going to write an advice column for twentysomethings and every newspaper and magazine was going to want my column in their publication. With my newfound career as a columnist, I just knew I was going to be able to lay back and make a killing by writing my world-renowned column. I did my research on how to submit a column, wrote my query and six sample articles and after sending it to two papers and getting turned down because of budget reasons, I became discouraged. I don't have much patience (what twentysomething does?). Then I got my new issue of WritersWeekly.com and read the success story, I Am the Publisher by Pamela White who started a food ezine. I began to think: Why should I wait for the papers to realize my column is a great idea? To heck with them, I'll do it myself. That is when Twentity.com was born. …
My secret to selling ads in my books is to write about a specific locale and to then sell ads to businesses in that area. …
I was a successful technical writer, but even with freelance work I never thought I was a true "writer." I am a red-haired, Barry-Manilow-loving mom of two. I also have bipolar disorder. Full-time tech writing and coordinating a post-9/11 letter writing campaign worked me into a relapse of the disorder and I fell apart. I lost my job, went on disability, and was diagnosed with traumatic brain injury (I couldn't use some forms of verbal and written communication) after receiving electroshock. …
'Think outside the box' is such a cliche' these days. I wasn't thinking outside the box when I was asked to write the story, I was (kind of thinking) outside my clothes. I had gone to a nudist colony for the first time. In the conversation pool that afternoon I met the webmaster for the Michigan park where I was staying. When he learned that it was my first visit and that I was a writer he asked me to write a story about it. Of course, I said "yes." The story was done within two days and e-mailed to him. He was thrilled with my comments and posted them on the park's website. …
The old woman caught my eye one morning on my way to school. I was in the 8th grade and had just turned 13. She called to me from her porch rocking chair and startling me out of my morning daydream as she asked, "Penny for your thoughts?" I can still remember her little wrinkled face and thought she must have been 100 years old. I politely smiled, yet continued to walk faster. I wondered if she could read my mind. …
The Baltimore Sun's Travel Editor called in January with some fantastic news--they were planning to run a short essay and photo I submitted to them. My piece and 4x6 photo ran on Sunday, February 20th! …
I am a wise woman. It is not because I have all the answers that I consider myself wise. It is because I prefer learning from others than making all my own mistakes. I developed my philosophy from an accountant I knew when I opened my first business. She said, "People will tell you that everything you do for your business is tax deductible. They are right. It is tax deductible but it is deductible from YOUR PROFITS." She was a wise woman and I have conducted several successful businesses with those words echoing in my brain. …
When do you know for sure that you have made it as a freelance writer? Is it that burst of incredulous joy when you land your first assignment? When you hold your first book in your hand and smell that crisp new-book smell? Maybe it is the first time you answer the question "What do you do?" by saying "I am a writer." …
In Bleak House, Charles Dickens coined the phrase "telescopic philanthropy." It stands for the phenomenon of failing to see what occurs in your own back yard before setting your sights on more exotic locales. As a writer, I suffered from it and neglected my local markets for too long. …
My first introduction to our area senior citizen publication was noticing the colorful photo on the front page. Examining the magazine further, I found helpful articles on travel, health, finances, local fairs and festivals, humor, recipes, and reminiscings. The magazine appealed to the 50- through 100-year-old set. I was fascinated. …
