Once a week or so I get e-mail from a reader. That is, a reader of the book-type thing I write, not just the on-line stuff that falls out of my brain during the day. They’re generally positive things, thanking me for putting my books out there and communicating information that has struck a chord with the reader, enabling them to think about something in a different way and make positive changes in their lives. While I’ve had feedback about all of them, the green witch book and the spellcraft book have garnered the most feedback. All of them touch me, reminding me that launching a book into the aether actually does create ripples that can change things. An author doesn’t generally get to see the changes made in people’s lives, so the feedback is doubly precious. It encourages me on a professional level, and on a spiritual level.

Today I got a wonderfully written letter from a reader (waves at T. E.) that could have described me, had my life not taken a significant turn five years ago. She’s got the education and in-house writing and editing experience, and is thinking about making the switch to the freelance writer’s life. (How many of you are laughing right now?) She is being very intelligent, asking someone who does it for a living what it’s like.

Something Tal and I trade back and forth when we’re frustrated is a comment about the life we’ve chosen. We have lots of them to draw from: feast or famine, less stressful environment for a more stressful schedule, and so forth. But in the end, we always cap it with, “But I’d rather be doing this than anything else.” Sure, I’d like a steady and reliable paycheque every two weeks. But I’m not willing to sign away the flexibility and freedom I have to obtain one. Yes, it’s incredibly stressful not being able to count on the arrival of a cheque at a certain time in order to budget properly. Going out and trying to drum up business is stressful too, especially for someone as shy as I am. I know freelancers who have a day job to make certain there’s money coming in (like Tal, for example) and I know freelancers who have so many clients knocking at their door that they have to turn them away (like Amanda). A lot of it depends on your area of specialization. And I certainly couldn’t be doing this on my own; having a significant other who brings money into the house is of immense value. (Although there have been more years than not where we’ve both been freelancing, which is also stressful, and not really ideal.) Having a significant other who is now working at a job with Benefits! is also a huge relief. On the other hand, having to do business for other people to keep money coming in is frustrating when you’re trying to write/finish writing books to shop around; a lot of my work is work that can’t be/won’t be paid off for a couple of years yet. It’s hard to accept that one is doing work that will be (probably) recompensed at an undetermined point in the future. Not that I’d know; I haven’t worked for myself (i.e. writing my own unassigned stuff) in, well, I can’t remember how long.

So yes, it’s hard. But it’s also preferable to the kind of stress I experience working full-time somewhere else. I like the variety of things I work on. I enjoy being in control of my environment. I like having a cat on my lap as I work. I like being able to ignore the telephone or screen my calls. I like being able to break when I need to without people watching my empty desk chair and timing me. I like dealing with people almost exclusively via e-mail. There’s the self-motivation problem, but I do have a pattern that I am now aware of thanks to chronicling my exploits here in the Owlyblog, and the motivation thing actually isn’t as much of a problem as I think it is when I’m in the middle of it.

Full moon Wednesday night, summer solstice this afternoon, Mercury direct again. If this were a fairy tale, all my cheques would arrive in my mailbox at once today. As it is, I’ve had messages this morning from two of my clients telling me my invoices have been processed, and in sixish weeks I’ll have payment. (Ironically, neither of these clients are the local one who processes in two weeks, she says, tearing at her hair.)

Today: another evaluation. I’m going to see if I can get it done in one day. I’ve managed to whittle the turnaround time to about six to eight hours, but I never have consecutive hours to devote to something so it gets broken down into a day and a half. Nothing like justifying a flat fee to force your learning curve.