Somebody I know is offering to pay me for disability-related commentary on his website...he can't pay much now, but is, like everyone with a website, hoping for a big launch someday. How much should I ask him for for a. now b. the future.
The Great Write Way, Act Three: Where's the gun?
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
I'd give him a price for the future, and in terms of payment now, ask him how much he is short. Your price for the future should be an hourly rate, higher than he can possibly pay now. Someone here can tell you what a fair price is. But in terms of negotiating strategy "how much are you short?" is a really good way to elicit his maximum price.
Its embrace is cold. Not just on my skin; in my mind.
::”Interaction with ‘the Suit’ can have unintended initial side-effects. These may include: distraction, fear, emotional distancing, loss of …”::
Yes, thank you, I read the manual. Feedback level = 2.
It’s like we’re two people, though the Suit lacks an identity as we understand…
::… Model CES-100T, Unit M10XXA12-362, software V 3.12…::
Feexdback level=2!
How long is my tour?
How long until I can escape?
How long until I am me?
::…remaining time-of-service = 17 years, 4 months, 13 days …::
Feedback level=1!
Why won’t we shut up?
Wheee! I finished the book I've been struggling with for ... way too long. Emailed it off yesterday. And woke up this morning kind of stunned that I don't actually have to write any more of it. Yay for done!
Congrats, Amy!
yay! AMY!
Congrats!
MM, that's some serious creep factor in that one.
Congrats, Amy!
Way to go Amy!
For Bev, who wanted more of the story:
Exodus
Her backpack rested on the seat beside her, claiming the space from possible interlopers. Unlikely, as the bus had dropped off what seemed to be a horde of itinerant workers chattering away in Spanish in Bakersfield. There were a few passengers left, none who had started as far east as she. At every stop she'd watched the ones who got off, most embraced by smiling families and friends. Not always, though. Some left slump-shouldered and shuffling; the ends of their lines a solitary exodus.
Hers wouldn't be one. She hugged the paper-wrapped cookie jar against her rounded belly, her family.