After making a promise to write more at the end of last year, I would say I’ve succeeded in some ways and failed in others. I haven’t touched the memoir. In fact, the word ‘memoir’ makes me shudder every time I hear it. But I did, thanks to the suggestion of my dear friend Dave, decide to adapt the manuscript into a play. It’s still a work in progress, but the idea has finally brought me back to those hundreds of pages I wrote over the past six years, and the new format is helping me to view the story in a different light.
I’ve missed posting on this blog too and communicating with my followers. But I must confess, I’m less willing to spill my heart over the Internet these days. Not because I don’t want strangers reading my deepest, darkest secrets, but more because I don’t want people I know reading my deepest, darkest secrets. It’s an odd concept, but blogging is like therapy to me, and I would never choose my mum or best friend to be my counsellor. That’s the reason we spend hundreds of dollars exposing our worst selves to complete strangers – you don’t need to face them every day, and they’re sworn to secrecy.
I have been writing more though and landed my first paid writing job last week, creating an article around online beauty courses. I never thought I could write on topics I know nothing about, and as expected, it wasn’t easy at first. But what I’ve since discovered is the Internet is full of articles written by writers who know nothing about the topics they’re assigned to. Last night I completed a 1,000-word project on wainscoting, and I can promise you, I had no idea what the hell it was until I surfed the web.
I’ve wanted to be my own boss for a while now, and it’s been a slow start due to lack of confidence and trying to figure out what to offer the world. I’ve been concerned I might lose my passion for writing if I forced myself to make money from it. But I’ve enjoyed exercising these muscles again, and now that I’m getting used to sitting in front of my laptop, I’m discovering that writing inspires writing.
So far, I’ve only worked twelve hours as a freelance writer and have earned a little over $100, so I’m not about to give up my day job. I’m just getting my feet wet, but I’m proud of myself for trying something new and taking a step towards career freedom and independence. I’m also gaining a host of new knowledge from these odd writing jobs, and now that I’m a pseudo expert on online beauty courses and wainscoting, if writing doesn’t pan out, I could always consider becoming a cosmetologist or venture into home décor instead.