Bloody freelance jobs are like bloody buses

You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

(With apologies to Wendy Cope)

Not that I'm complaining. Yesterday, I was in a bit of a work desert, and my camel had taken off.

...tra la la, don't panic, don't feel guilty about not contributing to the family finances, don't feel guilty that Peter's working his butt off while I'm not doing very much at home...

THEN...

I had an email from a new client, asking me to call him.

 In the meantime, I had a phone call from an existing client, asking me to do a piece of work immediately, if possible.

While I was talking to her, I had an email from someone I've worked with before asking for copy for a new website...by Sunday.

I called the new client, as arranged, and he asked me to set aside two hours every day to work for him, starting next week

While I was on the phone to him, I had an email from an existing client with another project.

Finally...earlier in the day, I had put myself forward for a MEGA job, laughing gaily to myself at my sheer effrontery...and it seems that my approach has been taken seriously...

Blimey!

You could've knocked me down with a feather!

Perhaps all this networking stuff is paying off...

Your idea of bliss is to wake up on a Monday morning knowing you haven't a single engagement for the entire week.

"... You are cradled in a white paper cocoon tied up with typewriter ribbon.”

WRONG, Edna Ferber!

Wrong about my idea of bliss and Wrong about being cradled in a white cocoon tied up with typewriter ribbon.

I've already shown you what I wear when writing.



My idea of bliss is to wake up on a Monday morning and know I've got lots of work - work that I enjoy doing, which is most of it - but also that my brain is firing on all cylinders so that I'll have a little mental energy left for my own creative writing at the end of the day.

As a freelance writer, the thought of no engagements all week is a little scary...both worrying about where the next pay cheque is coming from...

 ...and knowing that a) I'll have to do some more hustling for commissions and b) I have no excuses NOT to get on with my own writing.

Work-work (as I call it) is a GREAT excuse to explain away lack of creativity.

The trouble is, I don't believe my own excuses anymore. I am CONTEMPTUOUS of such excuses.

Time is too slow for those who wait...

...said Henry Van Dyke, no relation to Dick, as far as I know. At least he didn't make a habit of speaking in an execrable Cockney accent while dancing around the chimney pots. As far as I know.

A more interesting picture than the one of Henry Van Dyke

My job as a freelance writer seems to involve a lot of waiting...

...waiting for brief clarification, waiting for feedback, waiting for sign offs, waiting to be paid...

And then SUDDENLY...everything needs to be done YESTERDAY even though I've been twiddling my thumbs for most of the day. Waiting...

There you are, you see. Twiddling my thumbs. It's what I'm good at. Or rather, it's what I'm BAD at. I find it very difficult to concentrate on something else when I'm waiting...

I don't like it fine.

Could do better.