My day job

Lately, haven’t spent much time on fiction beyond the “flash fiction” we write in our weekly writers’ group sessions. They’re fun to do, and fun to read, but – face it – they’re not my novel and not another short story (though they do present some awfully good starts).
To actually EARN an income, albeit a small one, I have begun to freelance. I have two main clients in the non-newspaper world, a condominium magazine ( and an insurance site.
They both pay reasonably well, and both require my journalistic skills, rather than p.r. prestidigitation. I like that. The link I just added in will take you to a gardening article recently published in New England Condominium magazine, which goes out to condo managers and board association members throughout New England. I’ve written about security systems, common space redesigns, board and neighbor conflicts. I’ve learned enough to not really WANT to live in a condo; I think I may be too ornery.
This kind of writing keeps me honest, keeps me informed and disciplined and active in my journalistic field.
But I long for more fiction, for more indulgence in the writing that gives me a heart-kick as well as a mind-kick.
For the Telegram & Gazette, in Worcester, I write a regular restaurant review and a monthly column for book club members. This week, a very large online book club started following my book club blog (, so maybe that will open up the conversation and provide new ideas for future columns. I absolutely love writing this column, because books are my passion. When I read an outstanding author, I like to share it by writing a quick book review on that site. And when the T&G publishes a column, I put it there too. The T&G column is called “Read It and Reap,” and it’s published the last Sunday of each month. But note that the blog site is Reeap, thanks to a subtle switch necessitated by someone’s unused ownership of the other site name. Drat the un-ending confusion this will cause.
It’s time to sit down for a serious talk with my novel’s characters, too, to be certain they are as true and as well crafted as they need to be for publication.
I don’t want to self-publish; I really, really, really want to go the traditional route, even though I’m told every day, in many ways, that traditional publishing is gone/done/finished/kaput/meaningless. I just don’t believe that.
So after this last talk with “Emilee’s Song,” and whatever tweaks come out of it, she’s going off to more agents, hopefully with an uncommonly appealing cover letter (dreadfully difficult to accomplish, for some reason) and making the rounds in hope of acceptance.
Wish me luck.

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