My writing story is the following: I always wanted to be paid for words - since my 17 yo illumination moment when I've read Virginia Woolf's diary. With hard work, I succeeded to be what I wanted to be, and spent most part of my life around and with words. In different languages.
Despite various personal choices and the impossibility to refuse some out-of-the-writing-box professional challenges, I continue to consider myself a writer and I published many articles and books and I am planning to do so till the last word.
However, there are some days, when even the most stupid wording is a big unsuccessful trial. Like, for instance, a couple of 150-word clothes descriptions a couple of days ago. A ridiculously simple task did not get the minimal approval and the collaboration ended up after less than 3 days. Today, I got a fabulous feed-back from a client, for a paper that I did fast, without too much editing. And this situation happens at least 3 times the month. In 100% of the cases, is the same hand typing the words and the same brain knitting the sentences. When I am too happy with the content, I receive some bad news, when I am relaxed the feed-back may be fabulous. And I continue to get my money as a freelance writer and editor.
Of course that after 5,000 words, one may not expect to be coherent and successful, even when the only words you should write are those that make your name. But this is how it works when you get your bread from writing. Sometimes I am too much caught by the pleasure of writing and regardless of the commercial result of my work, I continue to be happy.
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