Cash Money

I just sold a story (“Vacancy,” a story about a man who wakes up in a hotel to discover everyone else in the hotel was murdered during the night) this past week, and the thought that someone…anyone, really…would pay me for my writing still amazes me. I’m sure individuals who make their living writing take this for granted (accepting the check with their greedy, greedy paws), but it’s still an idea I’m getting used to after writing pro bono for so many years.

I mean, think about that for a second: a story that started out as nothing more than a fart of an idea blowing around in the colon of my mind solidified long enough for me to recognize it as a good idea; then I packed it into my creative intestine and shit it out onto a piece of paper (why I went with a bowel movement metaphor for my creative process is really beyond me). Then that story that started out as nothing more than a whiff of an idea got sent out to a publisher or editor and someone decided to buy my story in exchange for US currency…SUCKAS!

And sure, the money I’m being paid for this particular story is an amount that most homeless people would leave lying in the street, but it’s still compensation for the blood, sweat, and tears that went into writing the piece (I wrote this particular piece while fighting to the death…thus the blood, sweat, and tears). It’s nice to be compensated monetarily for writing something, but I still think that anyone who plans on making a living writing is really just a hobo in training.


~ by themoderntranscendentalist on August 10, 2011.

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