So, at work today (Working at a fast food joint), I’m talking to one of my cowerkers about how this is likely the type of job I’ll end up with, as I’d like to go into writing, therefore, will be very broke my entire life.
Then I got home, checked my email, and found out that a freelance essay I’d submitted to a newspaper is going to be published. For money! Fifty buckaroos for just under five hundred words.
It’s a start, right?
(also, I apologize for starting two ‘me’-centric threads so rapidly, but, hey, I think it’s worthy.)
That is soooooooooooooo great! Congratulations! I’ve been freelancing for years and there is still nothing like having a story accepted for publication. Wait until you get the check!!! I always hold it behind myself like a tail and do the “they paid me dance”.
It’s going to be in the Philadelphia Inquirer (which has a gi-normous circulation, and the idea of anywhere close to that number of people reading something I wrote is either uber-cool or uber-terrifying!) on a Sunday this month. It’s a “personal journey” in the travel section, basically written about a backpacking trip I went on.
Sorry, but I’m not going to give you guys the exact details - for I must keep my Secret Identity ™ secret. Warrenty’s expired, you know, and even though I’ve got a paycheck coming my way, I can’t quite afford to replace it yet…
Muhahaha! You’ve fallen right into my trap, NinjaChick! A Sunday Philadelphia Inquirer article about backpacking and mentioning a thunderstorm…more than enough information to finally uncover your secret identity!
