Feast or Famine (part II)

I’ve submitted one article, sent another article off to my editor (read my husband), one being planned (I’m developing a rubic to compare chai teas. Don’t judge.  I like my chai teas.  I’m determined to find the best damn one in the city.) and one still brewing.

The last article really is a pitch….which I have no idea of what to do.  Does one write the article before pitching it?  Or is it better to pitch the idea then write it?  I have a sneaking suspicion that it is the latter.  Which is typical of me, since I’ve written about 500 words already.  😀  If this is the case, there’s no reason for me not to turn that article into a blog post.

I’m not picky.

Anyway, I’m going to research how to write a rubic because that sounds interesting and I’m not being scacastic.  It really does sound interesting. (Guess who’s not a teacher?)

I really should go back to TextbrokerArticle Document or Blogmutt for those blog content pieces that pay less (and doesn’t give me a byline) but keeps money coming in.  I should say that it’s so very hard to do this because, like I said, it pays less and no byline…and it probably steals a bit of my soul everytime I do it.

Could be worse.  I could be writing for free.

Ooops.  🙂

By the way, I didn’t mean that as a slag against blog writers (because duh, I’m one too!), I meant that with blogging is a bit like journaling for me. It’s necessary and helps to clear out the cobwebs in my head.  It’s a way of communication…even if my audience doesn’t communicate (much) back. No, no.  Don’t take it like I’m guilt-tripping you.  I don’t expect my audience to respond and it’s okay.

I’m basically talking to myself and I’m okay with it.


I’ve had a number of friends become published authors.  I’m thinking of three in particular who have actual phyiscal books.  Their books are sitting on my shelves, by the way.  They are wonderful and glorious and I am so f’ing proud of them.  It made me wonder about the genre that I write the most.

Yes, I have many fiction stories (and books if I could just get them out) but damn it, my English degree was focused on non-fiction, creative non-fiction to be precise many of my classes was taught by this man.  I’d like to point out that I wanted to throttle him constantly but ended up grudgingly liking…not that he ever knew either emotion.

I’m off topic.

My apologies.

What I’m saying is that I should fully embrace being that non-fiction writer that I accidentally set myself up to be.  I’ve been documenting the mundane since 1984 for pete’s sake.  I’m an essayist (of sorts), a diarist, and a documentarian (of sorts).  I’ve already embraced calling myself a writer, how about I start calling myself an essayist or a non-fiction writer?


Hello, I’m Charlie and I’m a writer.  An essayist and diarist to be specific. Nice to meet you.


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