I've been researching the world of freelance writing. So far I don't like what I see. Why? Well because it still seems too mysterious for me. I realized a while ago (ahem-my husband pointed it out to me) that I don't work well under guidelines imposed upon me by anyone but myself. I know, it's a cruel world and nobody is going to give a (expletive) about coddling me through a process of any kind. I took one of those career path quizzes once and I was told I would be good at busking. That's right. Busking.
What I mean to say is that I prefer to be my own boss. I have that soaring entrepreneurial spirit. Or something. Or other.
So-yeah. Ok. What I want to do instead of worrying about things like art shows and publishers and yada yada is to just make stuff. Paint. Write. Do. Be. Free. To. Be. Me.
I have stories I want to share because I like to share my stories. Does everything always have to be about money? No. Nay! Nay I say!
And that brings me to this: I am going to try to offer up a little bit of fiction here on Fridays IF I can remember and IF I have the time and so on and so forth.