diversify your writing income

Oooooh! Getting PAID to Eavesdrop! by Jeanine DeHoney

Oooooh! Getting PAID to Eavesdrop! by Jeanine DeHoney

We were often told not to eavesdrop as children. As a writer though, eavesdropping is the quintessence of good fiction. It gives us a bird’s eye view of other people’s voices and their melodramas. We hear their inflections, their accents if they are from a different country, and get the chance to obtain information about their life. This adds another layer to our characters as we begin to build their profile. It also makes our fiction more relatable; fiction editors are more prone to publish and readers are more inclined to read.

REWRITING EXECUTIVE PROFILES?! LinkedIn’s Largely Untapped Goldmine! By Kevin MacConkey

REWRITING EXECUTIVE PROFILES?! LinkedIn’s Largely Untapped Goldmine! By Kevin MacConkey

Take one look through your LinkedIn connections and their profiles and it becomes increasingly clear how bad some people are in the English language. Someone should help these folks and straighten out their grammar and their, they’re, there’s.
What I’ve figured out through some inquisition and experimentation, is that most business people would gladly pay to have us professional writers rewrite their profiles and even ghostwrite their published posts for them.

How My Best Freelance Writing Jobs Came From Company Blogs and Digital Magazines! By Tim Leffel

How My Best Freelance Writing Jobs Came From Company Blogs and Digital Magazines! By Tim Leffel

For many, the phrase “freelance writing” conjures up images of famous magazines on a newsstand. Often the best-paid work, however, comes from companies that aren’t in the publishing business at all. They’re commissioning articles as part of their content strategy, to either connect with their customers or improve their website’s search traffic.

How Translating One Poem Led To A Profitable Spin-off Service! By Pamela Allegretto

How Translating One Poem Led To A Profitable Spin-off Service! By Pamela Allegretto

Until I stumbled into this little side gig of translating Italian poetry, my idea of poetry didn’t go much further than “Roses are red…” etc., etc. Occasionally, I read, and reread, and tried to understand some of the poetry published in The New Yorker. First of all, it didn’t rhyme, so that threw me off. Then, on many occasions, even after a third or fourth read, I was still asking: “Say what?” I must have snoozed through the poetry segment in English class because all this free flowing thought was a puzzle to me. And now, I was being asked to translate it.

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