2009
11.13
It is extraordinarily difficult to find a way to talk about the difficulties of the professional writing life without sounding like you're whining. After all, I've got a 6 foot commute in the morning. I set my own hours. I've got the ultimate flex time set-up and if my son gets sick, I don't have to worry about who's going to stay home with him. And every so often, I get to see my name on a book on the shelves. And, unlike when I was in high school, people think I'm cool, 'cuz I'm an author (not one of them believed it would happen). How the heck do you have all that and still talk about the job being hard? But it is hard, and if you're thinking about giving it a go, you should know that it is hard. While I do what I do for love, and I worked like heck to get where I am, I also write for money, for the support of my family and to ensure there's money for the future. But I'm a piece worker without insurance. If I don't turn my product in on time, I don't get paid. If I don't meet expectations, I don't get my contract renewed. I can write an entire novel, turn it in and have it turned down, or I can have the project cut in the middle and receive only a fraction of the money I was expecting (what's known as a 'kill fee'). I've worked on killer deadlines where I've pulled all-nighters and typed until my hands cramped. I've written stuff I'd never read. I've written stuff I'd never let YOU read. I've written manuals and ad copy. I've done all this and I'll do it again. It's what I do well and the way I have to earn the money to pay the mortgage and put my son through college. It's my job and in a lot of ways is like any other job, with its good days and it's bad days, it's good people and it's foolish people. It's driven me to fits and to tears and to distraction and back. No glamor. Just hard, daily work turning out the product and hoping the project goes through this time. And you know what? I still can't complain.

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