A funny thing happened today, an old contact I’d forgotten about reacquainted with me and asked about the next step I was meant to make. My mind drew a blank cos I had travelled down many avenues and through many brainstorms since then – I was lucky I made a coherent sentence, really!!
For we’ve come to it at last, the last way forward is always the Mercenary way, the way you were too snobby for once. Okay, snobby ain’t that precise the emotion, more along the lines of the introverted. I’m speaking of freelancing AKA the American idol of authorship. It’s for certain tastes and for certain personas, the Devil May Care kind, that’s never really been me but I guess now it has to be.
Folks, my Amazon steed is a non-runner so I’m hedging my bets on a gamble. On something that is almost on a cash in hand basis: ghostwriting. Ghostwriting is when your name disappears behind your words and behind those words is a bigger word, ANONYMOUS. You provide the service, reap the fruits BUT the condition is – you’re in the haunted attic of your professional sphere: The Ghostwriter
You wanted it to achieve the green by more dramatic means, every writer below 30 bears in mind J.K. Rowling’s slow yet stratospheric rise, well what about the women at 40??? I feel a change in the air like I always do when trying to shape the future but at the same time I am accepting to be that cog wheel of the money-making machine. I’m at the age of not minding, stepping stones are stepping stones and, yes with great inevitability – Money is still money.
Belle's Gateway 