Although when the piece is time-sensitive, you're hosed on the resell. And generally one has to do some significant rewriting to fit a new publication anyhow.

Rock on, Dana. It's lovely.

Dana, you write GG that makes my mouth water.

My mom's publshed about eighteen books. She's been in the book publishing world as a writer and editor for about thirty years. Just watching her struggle so hard, and in vain, is heartbreaking. I never want to go through that. I've already gotten a book published; I'm not worried about it for the future.

I have published nothing.

Of course, I haven't tried to publish anything, but given the general state of my career, I'm unlikely to do so.

What with the frustrated enough as it is part of things, and all.

I have two bookcovers and one uncredited photograph in a newspaper to my credit, if not my name. I don't imagine I'll ever write anything for publication.

I did about six articles for one of Philadelphia's weekly papers back in the day. So far, that's all I've been paid for. But I'm posting this on a break from typing in some of those old clips (I've long since lost the original Word files) so DH can upload them to the web and I can use them when I email queries. As soon as they're live, my first query is going out. And, I'm working on my first novel.

I've written fanfic in the past, and probably will again. I've got a farm full of Buffy plot bunnies which are going unwritten mostly because of sheer lack of time. Now that I'm taking Saturdays off from any of my "work" projects, I might go back to it.

Well - I neve sat down and said, I Must Write and be A Writer Lady, or anything like that. I was a musician, and a songwriter, I directed drama, I danced for seven years (never all that well, though; big-assed bones), I worked on movie sound and recording sound. It was a sort of 1970's theme song - have talent, will travel, and damned near everyone I knew did something like that, in bits and pieces.

I wrote because one day my husband suggested I sit down and write, so I did, and it didn't sell (actually, it did, but no-longer-agent declined the offer without consulting me). But later books did.

In the end, I think we all kinda do what we do. But I'd have to say that anyone who sits down at a computer or typewriter or whatever, cracks their knuckles, and says hmmmm, today I will take the first step away from my job as an insurance salesperson by writing lucrative fiction needs to tell me where they buy their hallucinogens.

But I'd have to say that anyone who sits down at a computer or typewriter or whatever, cracks their knuckles, and says hmmmm, today I will take the first step away from my job as an insurance salesperson by writing lucrative fiction needs to tell me where they buy their hallucinogens.

The brilliant thing about my job is that I can supply my own hallucinogens!

The brilliant thing about my job is that I can supply my own hallucinogens!

Shades of Doonesbury, Uncle Duke, real world Hunter Thompson. "Whap" "Whatcha doing under the desk, Uncle Duke?" "Killing bats with my ruler." "Bats?" "Yeah. Really big hairy ones. Whenever I take too many South American hallucinogens, I start seeing huge hairy bats." (WHAP!) (beat) "But enough about me. WHAP! How's your mother?"

I have no illusions about the lucrative aspect. It's the bone-chilling rejection issue that gets me. I mean, I already know I can't dance, sing, play music, or really do pretty much anything. So I like keeping to my delusion that I'm an acceptable enough hack, and this way no one can tell me otherwise.

Hell, it was hard enough sending out my first few fanfiction pieces. I kept waiting for the "THAT SUCKS" mail to roll on in.

Huh. I seem to be having self-image monsters again. Kill them! Kill them all!