By Mary Anne Hahn

Four years ago, on a May afternoon bright with promise, I lived every writer’s dream – I packed up nearly a decade’s worth of office belongings, hugged my co-workers good-bye, and walked out of a secure, stable, stress-filled job to make my mark as a full-time freelance writer.

I hated it.

Okay, I didn’t really, at least not in the beginning. That heady moment of leaving a restrictive nine-to-five job behind and the weeks that followed rank up there among the top five high points of my life (I’ll save the remaining four for other articles…suffice to say they are not all writing-related…). With the wind in my sails, my pride at stake, and a truckload of excellent work habits developed during my “day job” days, I established my home office, organized files, picked up the necessary tax forms, set daily schedules and developed weekly goals. I chased after leads, sent off queries, and even landed a couple of meaty writing assignments with local companies.

But as queries came back to me stamped “Rejected,” and local projects petered out, so did my enthusiasm. Days became long and very empty. My fountain of writing ideas, which I’d once thought was endless, dried up for lack of outside stimulation. I found myself longing to be very, very busy again, with work that was being delegated to me, rather than having to go find it myself. Plus, I’ll admit, I missed making money. So after several months I went back to work part time, just to see a regular check with my name on it. And after several more months, I abandoned the dream completely, and returned to work full-time.

Now I’m writing more than I ever did.

I’m not telling you this to discourage you from living the freelance dream. In fact, like an ex-lover, I think about giving it a second chance someday, a little wiser from my first go-round. But there are advantages to moonlighting as a freelance writer that I hadn’t appreciated before, benefits that I want to share with you before you, too, decide to quit your day job. Read them and reap.

1. Time to write remains special, precious, when we don’t have all the time in the world. In her book Writing From Personal Experience, Nancy Davidoff Kelton suggests that we view writing like an illicit love affair, savoring the moments, relishing the time. When we “ought” to be collecting dust bunnies or “should” be running errands, we can spoil ourselves instead with a few stolen moments of writing time. After all, if the world ended tomorrow, would the dust bunnies really matter?
2. A regular paycheck frees us to practice until we’re perfect. A full-time freelancer may need to look for the sure thing, because writing literally is their bread and butter. Moonlighters can bet the long shots. You are more willing to take chances, walk the tightrope, experiment with new writing styles or markets, with a financial safety net of a full- or part-time job beneath you. Rejection letters sting less when you are not counting on an advance to pay next month’s rent. But when you succeed as a moonlighter, the satisfaction is still as sweet, and the any financial payoff actually becomes an added bonus, not a life-or-death necessity.
3. Your day job actually can add fuel to your writing fire, rather than extinguish it. My own article and story ideas spring daily from snatches of conversation overheard in the employee lounge, discussions with friends over 45-minute lunches, or disgruntled employees who drop by my cubicle to vent. Newspaper headlines or tidbits that capture the attention of my co-workers enlighten me as to what interests them, and what could interest my potential readers. Newsletters and magazines that float around the office become possible markets for my work. When I left the office environment previously to pursue full-time freelancing, I had unknowingly severed myself from this incredible wellspring of writing ideas. Be sure you are tapping yours to the fullest.

So while moonlighting may be, for many writers, a necessary fact of life, it brings its rewards as well. Working our desire to write into a schedule that includes full-time jobs, families and never-ending to-do lists of other responsibilities forces us to truly assess our priorities, organize our time, and seize our moments. But when we get up in the morning a few minutes earlier, stay awake at night a few minutes later, or sneak out to a quiet place during our lunch hours to pursue our “illicit love affair” with writing, we have the dual benefit of exploring one of our greatest passions, along with the security of jobs and loved ones to support and accept us when we return.

Strip Down to Your Essential Writing Soul

By Shirley Jump

You can keep your clothes on — but free yourself to write.

Take it off. Take it all off. No, not your clothes (although if you want to compose in the nude, that’s your prerogative). Strip away those hindrances to writing, from the expectations of others to the quest for your true writing voice. Once you learn to strip away all the rules and barriers, you will write more freely and your words will have more impact.

That’s not to say you can pull a Faulkner and eliminate punctuation or start reinventing the rules of grammar. The basics of good composition apply no matter what you are creating. To me, writing naked means being a writer who creates out of a sense of joy, not in an attempt to follow marketing trends or to appease the judgment of friends and family members. It’s writing in its purest form.

Let’s start with the expectations of others. If you are writing with the purpose of getting published, then you’ve probably looked at the books and articles that are out there, and decided you have to make your work fit those models. It’s like being in junior high. The “in” crowd wore the hippest clothes and those who wanted to be part of the clique did the same. But what happens is individuality gets swallowed up in the quest for sameness. Readers don’t want uniformity. They choose one author over another because she has unique storytelling abilities.

The people who have made a dent in the publishing world have made their individual writing styles an asset. Stephen King, John Grisham, Nicholas Sparks, Kathleen Woodiwiss. No one was doing what they did at the time they launched their careers. They encountered many closed doors but once they made it to the rank of published, they found a bevy of readers hungry for uniqueness.

Think about your own expectations, too. You might envision your writing career following a certain path. Maybe you expected to be published in a year or two or ten and it hasn’t happened. Maybe you expected to have a literary voice and all that’s coming out is comedy. Let go of those expectations, too. As soon as you put a leash on your writing, you are restricting yourself. While it’s wonderful to be able to compose lyrical passages, or comic ones, or straight journalistic prose, don’t expect yourself to write in a style other than the one in which you write. The truth is that everyone’s writing style and writing paths are different. Only by giving your creative side free rein can you discover your own path.

The most important thing to keep in mind is that no one can tell your stories quite the same way you can. That’s a gift — a single element that sets you apart from any other writer. When you write, you do so with the express purpose of communicating your own writer’s soul. There is nothing more naked than that.

EXERCISE: Take one hour this week and write entirely for you. Don’t think about where the piece might sell or what someone might think about it. Set out to write strictly for yourself. Create anything. A story. A poem. A journal entry. Don’t worry about what it is, or what you’ll do with it. Rediscover the joy of creation for creation’s sake.

By Margaret Terhune

A few weeks ago, I received a great rejection letter from a literary journal. It was almost as exciting as when I got my first paying contract. While other people raise an eyebrow when I refer to a good rejection letter, my writing friends smile knowingly for they are familiar with the hierarchy of editor responses.

The letter began in the usual way: “Thank you for offering your work to…we regret that we cannot use it at this time.” Oh well, I thought, another one for the “no” box. Then I noticed the hand-written note at the bottom. I’ve learned to appreciate any personal touch: an editor’s signature, a post-it note with a few encouraging words, a note scribbled somewhere on the page. These are all excellent indications that your work has been read and considered by at least one person.

A quick side note on rejection letters: my husband thinks it’s bizarre that I keep these letters but they’re actually a great source of satisfaction. Not only are they proof that I continue to write and send but they are also an excellent way to refer back to editor’s names and addresses. I know of people who have papered walls with these letters; I prefer to keep mine together in a box.

“I enjoyed your poem and wish you luck in placing it,” the note read. “I’m sorry we can’t use it… please consider us again. Keep writing.” Please consider us again – these are the magical words, opening the door just a few inches wider. This particular journal only reads submissions for a short period each year, so I shall have to wait before resubmitting. Normally, I would send something else out within a few weeks, while the favorable impression is still fresh in the editor’s memory.

I still get plenty of generic rejection letters, ranging from curt notes to longer letters. Some are polite and encouraging while others give the impression that the work was thoroughly unworthy of being read. I particularly dislike the ones which contain a checklist of reasons for rejection ranging from “not suited to our present needs” (I invariably get this one) to “poorly written” (I wonder if they ever use this one?).

In the midst of all this banality, a personalized letter makes me feel that I’m still headed in the right direction. The fact that an editor took the time to jot a note is a great motivation to continue sending out my work.

By Shirley Jump

A friend recently asked me, as a fellow mom and full-time writer: “How do you juggle work and being a mom and make sure you’re doing a good job at both? I feel guilty when I work and guilty when I don’t. Well, all except for at night. But the work I can get in from nine to midnight just isn’t enough if I want to do this full time….”

My answer: You don’t.

I’m not trying to be flip about this, just realistic. There are going to be times, NO MATTER how hard you try, when you feel like you are only doing a good job at one or the other, times when you feel you should get the “World’s Worst” award for both. It never balances out-ever.

But here’s the kicker. It doesn’t matter what you are doing with your time during the day, whether it’s baking cakes or working a job or writing or mowing the lawn. You are ALWAYS going to feel like you can’t balance both equitably.

Nora Roberts, who is probably one of the most prolific writers in the world, started out writing when her kids were very young. She is often asked how she managed to balance both. She said that in the juggling act of life, you have to decide what things are glass balls and what things are rubber balls. The rubber balls you let drop so you can catch the glass ones. The glass balls are obviously the most important things in your life: children, husband/wife, writing. The rubber balls are the Tupperware parties and the pristine house and anything that smacks of Martha Stewart.

In short, you have to let some things go in order to attend to your priorities. I’m not telling you anything you can’t hear on an “Oprah” rerun. This makes sense, and it works.

But it doesn’t solve the problem of feeling guilty for working when the kids are around and feeling guilty for playing when you should be working. That isn’t going to go away. I battle it daily. Guilt has a starring role in my house. Heck, I’m even thinking of giving it a bedroom of its own.

A few things that I do when the balance is tipping precariously in one direction or the other:

• Let the kids fend for themselves: I know, it sounds cruel. What do you mean, not make them a sandwich? Not bathe them? Not put away their laundry? Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. My daughter, at nearly 8, is pretty proficient with the microwave and knows how to make soup from a can. My son, at 3, has attempted his own sandwich. He can change his own clothes. They do many things for themselves. To me, it’s not a bad thing. It teaches them independence and makes them feel proud that they can “do it themselves.”

• Pass the guilt trip to someone else: Think you feel guilty? Think about your spouse, who is probably working more hours than you and spending even less time as a parent. Share that guilty burden. Don’t be a martyr.

• Involve them: My daughter and I play “Mancala” while I answer e-mail. My son colors at my desk while I work. It doesn’t always work out, but if my task is light, their company is nice.

• Walk away from work: I do this when the kids least expect it (keeps them on their toes  There are times when I have to say no to playing a game or watching a video, but I try to temper that with just as many yes times. I counter this by sleeping less and working during their sleeping time, but it works out okay.

• Show them you love them: I leave notes in lunchboxes, put lipstick kisses on hands, bring home the occasional treat, dispense hugs no matter what I am in the middle of, and tell them I love them all the time. It’s not a substitute for being with them, but it reminds them that I think about them all the time.

Last of all, accept that you will NEVER have that perfect balance. If you weren’t writing, you might be at a full-time job, or going to school, or spending your time knitting. Everyone needs something for themselves, whether it’s a job or a hobby. That time is time well spent because you are investing in YOU.

And isn’t that a great lesson to teach the kids?

By Shirley Jump

When I first started writing, I thought I wanted to be the next Jane Pauley. I could just see myself, leaping after the big story, landing the big headlines and the cheers of the newsroom. Then, after a few years at a city newspaper, I realized I didn’t have what it took to be an investigative reporter. I didn’t like butting into people’s lives, I didn’t like stirring up trouble and I especially didn’t like hunting down a story that didn’t want to be found.

It was an epiphany that shaped my life from there on out and changed my career course. I started freelancing, instead of being a staff reporter, and like Julia Roberts in “Pretty Woman,” I had the power over who and when and what I wrote about. It was great. It didn’t pay as well  but it worked out much better for my conscience and my heartburn level.

It may take you a while before you figure out what kind of writer you want to be. To help you, try this “Pop Quiz.” Take some time with these answers – give them some thought. You might find you are a different writer in your heart than you are in your head.

POP QUIZ ON YOU

If you’re having trouble figuring out your roadblocks to success, take this quick quiz. Ask yourself:

• What are my strengths and weaknesses? Am I procrastinator? Am I good at research or concepting?

• What kind of articles do I like to read?

• Do I have the personality to write investigative journalism pieces, personal essays, think pieces, research articles, or lighter features?

• Do I enjoy research and statistical work or am I happier interacting with people and learning about their stories and adventures?

• Am I willing to try my hand at a number of different article genres until I find what works best for me?

• Do I see writing as a regular part of my life or just a temporary endeavor?

• Am I interested in writing articles as a full-time or part-time job?

• Do I have the courage to put my articles in the mail? To face the inevitable criticisms and rejections? To meet the challenge when my work is accepted?

• Am I willing to put in the time to study the market, research my article ideas, and study the craft of writing?

• Do I have the discipline to do this on my own? Would I be better off collaborating with another writer or expert?

• What kind of writer do I want to be? When I close my eyes, where do I envision my work appearing?

• Most importantly: Do I have the persistence, dedication, and drive to make my dream come true?

Doing this kind of self-analysis helps you understand your own weaknesses and strengths. By knowing yourself well, your writing and publishing efforts will be far more successful because you can adapt your approach to fit your particular forte.

By Sharon Horton

In the world of acting, the Food Chain is well defined. Theater actors look down upon Movie actors. Movie actors look down upon Television actors. Television actors look down upon Commercial actors and I suppose Commercial actors look down upon Infomercial actors. Everyone has an opinion as to what is legitimate within the Thespian World.

It is the same within the Literary World.

How often I have encountered the curious and intrigued expression when I announce I am a writer. And, how often I have encountered the “looked down upon” expression when it is discovered I am an unpublished writer.

The first question after they learn I write is always, “Are you published?” They don’t care if I’ve written a charming tale about an artichoke that talks and teaches the meaning of life to children, or if I’ve written a complete manual on how to split atoms over a campfire. All they care about is whether they can enter a bookstore and see my name in print.

Will seeing my name in print validate my craft? Maybe. Will it ensure I am a writer? No. I am a writer pure and simple and struggling with the best of them. The dream of creating our stories and characters is what makes us strive to perfect ourselves. The dream of being published keeps us striving. And yet, we are all still writers.

As the well read person may have seen in print by another writer- ‘All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players.’ Those who are actors, act. We, who are writers, write. If the reading world views the unpublished me as being at the bottom of the Literary Food Chain then I shall accept it proudly, for I am in good company.