Boy, it's been waaaay too long since I paused for breath, so I'm ditching a boatload of assignments to take five minutes and post. Something strange and wonderful occurred to me a couple of minutes ago--I am a writer! I've always thought of myself as a writer, but for the past few months I have been earning my living exclusively, 100%, from the fruits of my words, drawn from my little brain--from thin air. I am freelancing full-time, currently buried in work (hooray!), and managing to keep my head above water. As of this writing I'm a long way from being J.K. Rowling comfy on the financial front, but I have only just begun.
I just have to take a moment to savor the feeling. I am not getting up at ungodly hours to travel ungodly distances to chain myself to someone else's desk. I am free to knock off when I please, write with my cat in my lap, or go ride my horse when I need to breathe. I am neither rich nor (yet) horribly poor, but I am free. Halleluiah!
Having said that, part of the price of freedom is doing contract work, but even that I can mostly pick and choose. The drawback is occasionally running into a client who is, how shall I say this, less than fun to work with. I now understand why so many agents and editors, when asked the major drawback to the job, instantly list the client from hell. I recently encountered one of this species, and my sympathies are with the people who have to deal with said creature full time. Yeesh.
For good or ill, rich or poor, I am where I have always wanted to be: doing what I most love, nurturing the one true talent I have. Keep your fingers crossed. And if you're feeling kindly, whisper a little prayer that it remains so, for me and for all of us who are stubbornly chasing our dreams.