I’ve Been Selling My Words Lately. I Thought You Should Know.

You’ll probably want to sit down for this.

You comfy?

I’ve been writing on the side.

Cheating on you.

It’s not the same, of course. They want to hear about things to do in Daytona Beach, nutritious root-vegetable recipes for those frosty-aired days in January, and the reason your commitment to quit smoking in the new year is really going to work this time. 

Frankly, I feel cheap.

Until the money transfers, that is.

Hey, I see you there, imaging all the zeroes.  Hot and cold running peppermint schnapps, heated electric couches, fur-lined moustache cups.  I’m thinking of having my elbows polished Tuesday, just because I can.

Look.  The offer came up, polite conversation, yah-de-yah.  Certain questions were posed, certain answers proffered, and the next thing you know, you’ve got a 24-hour deadline in front of you and you’re staring blankly out a window scrubbing your mind for different ways to describe vacation settings.

Honestly, it’s fabulous work.

Paid to write!  You may not know this to look at me, but I can sling the old word song.  I write just for fun.  I make notes in cookbooks (Willie eats this by the handful!) and leave notes for myself in my pockets (Do you know why six is afraid of seven?)

I write for my own amusement.

But when called upon to write about 12 Healthful Tips for the Dog Park, I, sir, answer the call.

People ask me, “What do you do?” and I always tell them that I’m a writer.  

And what does a writer do? 

She writes, even if it means 24-hour turnaround times.