The Mystery of Castle Dawn. That was it. That was the title of my first body of work; in fact, those five words WERE the body of work. They came to me one day, in a flash of literary brilliance, during my fourth grade year and I knew right then I wanted to be a writer. …
For the last 14 years, I've followed my heart and written whenever possible and about anything that struck my fancy. But it wasn't until two years ago that I found the confidence, power, and opportunities that changed my writing income from less than $1500 a year with 60 sales to $12,000 a year part-time and 200 sales. …
Two years ago, I quit a perfectly good editing job at BusinessWeek magazine to be a freelance writer. Why? To have more flexibility, to spend more time with my children, and to never, ever sit through a Friday staff meeting again. …
This morning I dashed down my driveway to get the morning paper. I'm not usually this excited to read the daily paper, but today's edition is especially thrilling for me because it contains my first paid article for a newspaper. …
I was working for a handloom and yarn manufacturer, weaving, and writing promotional materials. I also did volunteer editorial work for a non-profit historic preservation group. One day I was under deadline, editing (heavily) a manuscript that a historian had been paid $40 an hour to write. The thought hit me -- I was pushing the wrong pencil. …
For more than a quarter of a century (yikes, that makes me sound old!) I've kept a small piece of paper I found on the floor of a motel restroom tacked to my writing room wall. These five words sum up how I've succeeded in supporting myself as a freelance writer: …
I missed the phone call from my agent, but Lesley wrote down the information on a piece of paper and folded it into a ring box, the kind you hand a prospective fianc…
As a child, I was always writing. I wrote lots of stories, and the summer I was eight, I put together several issues of a neighborhood newspaper, which my father copied at work so I could distribute it to the neighbors. I still have a battered copy of one of the issues. …
I was one of those lucky few who was actually at the right place at the right time. …
Since the early eighties, I have been a fairly successful freelance public relations writer. My career began because my daughter, Amber, needed toe shoes. No kidding. It was 1984. At that time I was working as the director of a non-profit agency, writing a bit on the side, and trying to raise five children mainly on my first husband's meager teacher's salary. Money was always tight. …
A boxing taco. That's the subject of the first story I ever wrote, which I read to the other second grade students in Mrs. Moore's class at Morningside Elementary. Their laughter was like medicine to me, a shy and often frightened child. …
My freelance writing career began with a poem that I never submitted. My father (also a writer) had sent it in on my behalf when I was 24. The interesting thing was, it was a poem I wrote at age 16. When the acceptance letter arrived, I thought, "Wow! If I can get something published that I wrote at age 16, what could I do now?" …
When I quit my day job two years ago to jump into the perilous pool of freelance writing, my co-workers gave me retirement cards. Little did they know how many 50- and 60-hour weeks I would spend at the keyboard, searching for markets and taking on-spec assignments. I had no idea, either, which explains why I was so excited at the prospect of making a living as a writer. …
When it rains, it pours. My first taste of success happened a year ago, in April 2001. My essay "The Silk Robe" won in the 2001 National Literature Competition sponsored by American Mothers, Inc. The essay about my Mom placed first in North Dakota and second at the National level. Seven months later, my booklet "The Silk Robe" was published. …
I've only written one query letter in my life. Never got so much as a form letter response. I've never written a manuscript proposal or created an outline for anything. Yet, I'm a writer. It's in my blood and in my dreams. The fuel was there and fear kept me from igniting it until this winter. …
I didn't think so two years ago before I had my son, Weston. The office environment suited me well. I was working for a women's organization and writing for its magazine. There were weekly planning meetings, phone interviews and research projects to occupy five days a week. …
Starting in the second grade when I learned how to print, I loved writing. To take the ideas from my head and put them on paper excited me. Whether it was keeping a diary or writing long newsy letters to Grandma, I loved it. But as I got older things changed. We've all had the naysayers in our lives. Teachers, family members, and an ex-spouse all dismissed my writing as a waste of my time. …
I've been a writer at heart since the age of 10. My love of writing led me to major in Journalism. After graduation, I worked in marketing and graphic design. I was happiest when I was writing, but the positions I held were not writing-focused. In order to break into the writing field, I decided I had to do something different. …
It was a private dream and I'd had it since childhood. Over the years several friends encouraged me to pursue it. Their words watered the seed, dormant for so many years but there were still a number of obstacles to overcome. Perhaps the main one was my lack of conviction that the dream was really attainable. I had no trouble encouraging my friends to believe their dreams would come true but I did have a problem believing in mine. …
Writers are steadily admonished: Write what you know! Well, I don't know about you, but I know a lot, and much of it, okay, most of it, would not go any further along the transom than the nearest circular file. After all, who wants to read that trash pickup in my neighborhood is Wednesday mornings? Or, what editor would buy a piece about replacing household light bulbs? …
Curious about freelance writing courses offered at our community college, I called someone teaching an essay-writing course and mentioned that I was a freelance writer. He urged me to contact the community college. Encouraged, I also approached my local community center. Bear in mind, I'm in Iowa City, home of the University of Iowa's internationally-acclaimed Writers Workshop. Yet after receiving a surprisingly warm welcome, I began teaching freelance writing courses for both. …
I first met success while staring down the twin barrels of poverty and debt. My husband and I were going through a bad patch financially. Actually, "patch" doesn't begin to describe this encumbrance the size of Asia. And our rented house in rural England had all the conveniences of the average garden shed. …
One of my favorite movies is the Billy Crystal/Danny Devito comedy, Throw Momma from the Train. In it Crystal's character, a creative writing teacher, gives what I still consider is the best piece of writing advice, "A writer writes." …
Long before I began my writing career, I was dreaming of it. Like most closet writers just starting out I worked full time while writing and submitted pieces to magazines in between the cracks of my busy life. My big plan was to build a writing career around published clips. Only problem seemed to be that I was rejected many times more than published. Truth be told, three years into my fledging career, my clips were still embarrassingly minuscule. I can hardly say I had a portfolio. My failure to become a published writer steamed from writing about things I really didn't know. In the beginning, I would write about any subject if I thought I had a chance of getting published. What I should have been writing was on subjects I was passionate about, those things that lit me up inside, even if they were simple. …
My writing serendipity started when I was sick in bed at age seven. My Dad handed me a book with a spine that said Random House. "A publisher created this wonderful book for you," Dad said. An electric sensation filled me. The idea of writing a book seemed magical. …
Like many aspiring writers, I knew I wanted to be "an author" since I first learned that the ABCs, put together in just the right order, could form words. Like many aspiring writers, I allowed real life, self-doubt, and practicality to win out over that dream, and pursued varying careers in academia and librarianship. It is this last career that has allowed me to come full circle and again pursue the idea of being a writer. …
Twelve years ago, I needed a change of lifestyle, as my blood pressure was sky high and I felt I was headed for a breakdown. I had worked for twenty five years in law firms and in international banking. Little did I know that I would never return to a regular workplace. …
My love for writing was established early in life. When I was growing up, my parents did not own a TV. Newspapers and radios were relied upon for news, while reading was the main form of entertainment. …
As an author of two books for parents and dozens of magazine pieces in over 20 different publications, plus spiritual lessons for adults and greeting card copy, I am here to testify that most of the advice put forth in books and websites for writers--like WritersWeekly.com, for instance--is true and well worth following. Here are two standard recommendations that have helped me to dramatically increase my publishing success rate in periodicals in recent months: …
At eight, I knew I wanted to be a writer. In class, I would write poems, riddles and stories. I loved writing. …
I'd come to the place in my career where I realized that my family didn't need a famous mother. They didn't need a literary genius. Good thing because I wasn't either. …
I recently had an Oprah moment. After my fair share of reporting on county-board ditch discussions, interviewing CEOs and staying up all night because I had an article deadline and I'd left it till the last minute AGAIN, I realized I don't LIKE reporting, or interviewing, or querying markets with half-hearted ideas. At age 33, my nasty habit of letting life get in the way of self-discipline was always going to be a bad habit, unless I wrote what I felt passionate about -- unless I found my niche. …
Mom wanted me to be a writer. Dad wanted me to go into electronics. Sadly, they died before I made my mark doing both. …
