Being a writer is not the most secure of pursuits and I’m not even talking about emotionally (we’re not flogging that old horse again!) I’m talking about the cash, the lucre, the livelihood. It’s a slippery slope, trying to juggle one’s art with a means to make some moola.
Oh, perhaps you’re one of those writers who is able to write novels and dash off a few scintillating, pithy pieces for the local newspaper or even better some national magazine? Well if you are, I hate you. On the other hand you might hate me because I can only think in terms of books. Nothing short here. Sure they might not come off every time-see the blog on the first draft for the second Feltus book- but enough times, there is enough story there to fill 200 or 300 Pages.
However, do the math. At my best (in my imaginary world) I could maybe manage two books a year- hey a girl’s gotta dream, right?! Ok, unless you’re James ‘Crank ’em out’ Patterson, who sometimes filled an entire section with his new releases in the bookstore I used to work at- that’s a tall order (and by the way, breathe deeply into a paper bag and repeat the words ‘ghostwriter’ to yourself until the dizziness stops).
Kid’s books are not terribly lucrative. Normally they’re not getting the NY Times reviews unless something miraculous happens (like, you write about vampires and vampires are the hottest thing right now) and the advances and budgets reflect this fact. Also kid’s books tend to be priced about 5 bux less than adult paperback novels even though they might be twice as long. So there’s not a lot of money to be made there even if one could manage to squeeze out two a year.
It sure would be nice to do some other writing in between books; just something to ensure a steady, trickle of funds. I read articles all the time. I think I understand the structure but I can’t for the life of me think up a subject and then sit down and format it into five hundred words arranged in four paragraphs. I keep getting distracted by another ‘idea’ I have for a book.
So what is my solution? Well, I seem to be looking for a job almost all the time. I sort of messed up my momentum by having two kids four years apart, so that as soon as I had recovered my equilibrium (and figure) after number one, and was actually gainfully employed again for a couple of years, we decided to have another child and had to start from zero again. I sometimes feel like I’m playing a giant 3-D version of snakes and ladders and I keep landing on the long, speckled snake and shooting back down to the bottom of the board. I can’t seem to find a job where I can write- the latest was a resume service but they didn’t hire me- so I’ve fallen back on marketing and promotions- a nebulous talent and hard to explain but one which I have a huge amount of experience in.
And I have my small witchy superstitious rituals which convince me that my perseverance will some day pay off and that I am not an ostrich with its head buried in the sand, mumbling “I will not grow up! I will not find a regular job I hate and work on the weekends!”Better to be broke and worried about money all the time- that small hard kernel of angst that is always there like a pebble in my shoe- and wake each morning with my litany of mantras (no, I’m not going to tell you what they are because that might rob them of their potency and magic), held before me like a shield, stubbornly believing in something magical just out of reach.
And, of course, I’m going to keep writing books.
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