Writing is not like riding a bike. Even though my retro orange bicycle is covered in a year’s worth of garage dust and post-Irene mud, I can hop on that thing in five seconds flat. My butt might get dirty, but I’d fly through my driveway like I owned it. Wait, I do own it. I also co-own the house, a few Apple products, the landscaping and some kids. The kids say I don’t own them, but I do. All of these things cost money.

So this is why I must write. Oh, and I also need to do it because I dig it. I didn’t set out to become a writer in 1996 because I’m good at fixing cars. I wish. Instead, I am good at generating ideas and stringing sentences together. And I used to get paid for it, like up to $2.50 per word. That was before publishing companies fired their editors and slashed their freelancing budgets due to financial woes. That was also before people read blogs. Don’t get me wrong; I love Dooce, The HuffPo, The Bloggess and I Can Has Cheeseburger. The only problem is that it doesn’t cost anything to read them, so writers don’t get paid much—if anything—to write them. I love writing for CafeMom and Barista Kids, but those jobs don’t fund my Taco Bell addiction. [Read more…] about Back in Business