Six Months As A Wordsmith and Counting…
Today’s an anniversary of sorts for me. Six months ago today I walked out of my last job and became a freelance writer. I sent out an email to everyone I knew saying I was a full-time writer and figured the offers would just start pouring in. I got response after response offering encouragement and assurances that I would make it. Everyone seemed to just know I was on the verge of success; funny how that works.
I gave myself to just after Comic-Con. Figured by then I would either have something good lined up or I would have to go back to a day job. That would be five months, plenty of time to make things happen. And I would have Wizard World LA to help make deals. Everything was great. I even won the poker tournament at WW LA; I was sky high and writing everyday.
April was an amazing month too. I got offered things I had never even thought about: a shot at a licensed property, a movie adaptation, and a history book. I even had editors from Marvel and DC responding to my inquiries. And to top it all off, I signed with an agent. Suddenly the possibility of Hollywood money made the full-time writing thing seem even more legit.
Them May came along and the majority of things that had popped up in April suddenly vanished or got seriously postponed. I went from having a half-dozen different irons in the fire to having absolutely nothing to work on. And when I couldn’t get things moving forward again, put me into a very dark June. Seeing nothing happening and my time quickly running out put me at a stress level like I have never dealt with before. I have done a lot of different jobs in the past, some of which the stress level was extremely high… but a situation where I had no control over anything was something new to me. I couldn’t work harder or push in new directions. It was all out of my hands and a day job seemed imminent.
By the time July rolled around I had resolved myself to enjoying the last month of full-time writing, going to the con and then going job hunting after. I thought the only thing that would prevent this would be a miracle. Well, a miracle did not happen. If this were one of my fiction stories than DC would have offered the hero a monthly title or Hollywood would have bought a concept. But this is the real world.
What did happen was I found just a little bit of hope somewhere on that con floor. I don’t know if it was talking to a couple editors who seemed to not only know who I was but actually wanted to talk, or maybe it was talking to the Hollywood types and having them know who I am. I walked out of the show with nothing more than a few doors cracked open just enough I may be able to squeeze my foot in.
It’s not enough to stave off the ‘day job’ indefinitely, but just enough to buy me another two months of trying. And maybe in those two months I can find something that will buy me a few more months. I learned a lot in the last six months, I learned that this is really what I should be doing and that I need to keep at it. I also think I improved as a writer. Trying new things… a children’s book, a novel, a prose mystery project. Things I would never even have thought of in the past. And the longer I can hold out, the better chance that something may happen with the Hollywood types.
Maybe I got my second wind or maybe I’m just too stupid and stubborn to know when to throw in the towel. But each day that I go upstairs to my loft to write instead of climbing into my truck and fighting traffic to get to a cube farm… well, I just feel more alive.
Today’s an anniversary of sorts for me. Six months ago today I walked out of my last job and became a freelance writer. I sent out an email to everyone I knew saying I was a full-time writer and figured the offers would just start pouring in. I got response after response offering encouragement and assurances that I would make it. Everyone seemed to just know I was on the verge of success; funny how that works.
I gave myself to just after Comic-Con. Figured by then I would either have something good lined up or I would have to go back to a day job. That would be five months, plenty of time to make things happen. And I would have Wizard World LA to help make deals. Everything was great. I even won the poker tournament at WW LA; I was sky high and writing everyday.
April was an amazing month too. I got offered things I had never even thought about: a shot at a licensed property, a movie adaptation, and a history book. I even had editors from Marvel and DC responding to my inquiries. And to top it all off, I signed with an agent. Suddenly the possibility of Hollywood money made the full-time writing thing seem even more legit.
Them May came along and the majority of things that had popped up in April suddenly vanished or got seriously postponed. I went from having a half-dozen different irons in the fire to having absolutely nothing to work on. And when I couldn’t get things moving forward again, put me into a very dark June. Seeing nothing happening and my time quickly running out put me at a stress level like I have never dealt with before. I have done a lot of different jobs in the past, some of which the stress level was extremely high… but a situation where I had no control over anything was something new to me. I couldn’t work harder or push in new directions. It was all out of my hands and a day job seemed imminent.
By the time July rolled around I had resolved myself to enjoying the last month of full-time writing, going to the con and then going job hunting after. I thought the only thing that would prevent this would be a miracle. Well, a miracle did not happen. If this were one of my fiction stories than DC would have offered the hero a monthly title or Hollywood would have bought a concept. But this is the real world.
What did happen was I found just a little bit of hope somewhere on that con floor. I don’t know if it was talking to a couple editors who seemed to not only know who I was but actually wanted to talk, or maybe it was talking to the Hollywood types and having them know who I am. I walked out of the show with nothing more than a few doors cracked open just enough I may be able to squeeze my foot in.
It’s not enough to stave off the ‘day job’ indefinitely, but just enough to buy me another two months of trying. And maybe in those two months I can find something that will buy me a few more months. I learned a lot in the last six months, I learned that this is really what I should be doing and that I need to keep at it. I also think I improved as a writer. Trying new things… a children’s book, a novel, a prose mystery project. Things I would never even have thought of in the past. And the longer I can hold out, the better chance that something may happen with the Hollywood types.
Maybe I got my second wind or maybe I’m just too stupid and stubborn to know when to throw in the towel. But each day that I go upstairs to my loft to write instead of climbing into my truck and fighting traffic to get to a cube farm… well, I just feel more alive.
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