Photo: Igal Ness
Writing for a living is generally a poor way to make a living, especially if you live in regions where the craft itself is often under-appreciated.
So when USD 300 was credited into my account today for what would essentially qualify as a blog post, I can finally say that for the first time in almost a decade of writing for a living, I actually earned money from something I wanted to write.
Photo: Conscious Design
There. We’re done. Nothing more to see here. See you next week.
All right keep your pitchforks. That was just the introduction, and it’s not the one tip that I actually wanted to share. But it does make sense, doesn’t it? After all, it’s the one piece of advice that has ever gotten me anywhere in my writing career.
Photo: Charles Deluvio
Not like there was much to kill in the first place. I mean, I’d already been struggling in the social department since I hit puberty, but Zoom is really taking things to another level. In fact, I think it’s turning us all into monsters.
How do I know? Well, I’ve had the privilege to pivot into education since the dawn of the new year, and having to spend eight hours a day on Zoom has highlighted just how much this software is killing my social abilities.
Photo: Josh Rakower
First off, use clickbait titles. Because if nothing else works, at least you’ll have gotten one extra click to show off to your prospective clients.
But perhaps I’m jumping the gun here. Do forgive me.
So you wanna be a writer wannabe. Not just a writer, no. You actually want to live the writer’s life without actually putting in the work. I totally get it. After all, I was a wannabe for most of my writing life, because for most of my career, my days only consisted of business articles and fluff pieces.
Photo: Maria Teneva
Let me take you back to somewhere in 2006 when I had to lead a two-hour class, totally hungover, while having to yell above the pitter-patter of rain on the zinc roof of our hairdressing academy.
Wait, did I throw you too deep into the action? Need some context? Perhaps I could take you back a few hours earlier, to when I walked into the academy smelling like a distillery, and throwing up into the first wastepaper basket I saw.