Riding the roller coaster

Here is a glimpse into the life of a freelance writer: (note - for "month" you may also substitue "day", "week" or "year". It's all the same.)

Month One

I am great! My potential knows no bounds! I love this life that pays me to do something that is FUN!

Month Two

I've forgotten how to write. Words run around inside my head and by the time they make it to the page, they have morphed into CRAP. It's no wonder no one wants to buy what I'm selling.

Month Three

I am brilliant! They love me! The clip file just continues to grow!

Month Four

All the good ideas are taken. I have no original thought. I am so far from fresh, I am STALE. Maybe I can get a job typesetting menus for takeout pizza.

Month Five

I know the secret is butt-in-chair-hands-on-keyboard, but I don't care. The blank Word document in front of me just serves as a reminder that I am HOPELESS. Perhaps I should investigate a part-time job at WalMart.

Month Six

I wish someone had told me that the last thing I wrote was going to be the LAST THING I WROTE. I think I will throw up now. And then cry. And then call WalMart.

Month Seven

SCORE!!! I sold something! My career's not over and I don't suck after all!

There you have it. Is it any wonder I'm exhausted?  All I can say is that my hubby must love me very much to be able to put up with me sometimes.

Oh, and map props to Ann, and her post of August 17. Specifically, the instruction to "send a pitch letter to a magazine, newspaper, or online market that you've always dreamed of writing for" I skewed the instruction a bit, and sent a new piece to an old market that has formerly only bought reprints from me. And seven days later, I'm back to smiling again.

Comments

[mom]

Congratulations yet again on getting another story accepted for publication ! We are all very proud of you ! Hang in there, your big break is going to happen ....just a matter of time !

[cassie-b]

Congratulations.

And keep on smiling.
Cas

[Kira]

Way to go! And it's so good of you to admit someone like you feels like a failure sometimes. It gives someone like me hope.
I'm standing on the edge, looking in the water. How cold is it, exactly?