Here’s the disclaimer…what you are about to read isn’t a rant. It isn’t me feeling sorry for myself or in no way, shape or form am I in a downer mood. It’s my simple facts of Why I am doing what I’m doing. I’m just being a bit more blunt about it…more honest about it? Yeah, cause while it’s real, it’s uncomfortably more real than that.
I’ve been writing since I was a pre-teen. Making stories even before then. It’s a frustrating business. No one just gets a big contract without a lot of hard work and a lot of rejection. And, then it’s repeat. Keep it fresh, but don’t change it too much because readers know you for what you wrote last and that’s what they want more of, but different.
Oh, so how much money did they give you? Why are you still working?…Didn’t you just get published? Your advance must be huge. No? No advance? You only made that much? Or…well, I was just asking. Or…that’s – nice.
I write because it’s what I do. My imagination sees or hears something and starts creating a whole other…anything. If I don’t write I get sad. I get angry. I’m lost. I have no voice because the written word is how I communicate.
I’ve hidden from it cause I found other less scarier paths to follow: reviewer and editor.
I’m a writer. I’m a reviewer. I’m an editor.
Direct Sales Independent Consultant, kinda fancy name to say I sell stuff I want you to buy. Not very different than working in a store you walk into in order to buy stuff, did that, too.
Difference…I work for myself now. I don’t get a salary. I make my own based on the commission of what you buy. No sales = no salary. No, I’m not guilt-tripping you into buying anything. I’m stating the fact that I am a self-employed Direct Sales Independent Consultant. And, I have a whole network of people behind me doing the same for their own reasons.
Why? I used to work in an office. I used to work in a store. Better hours and better pay, even benefits.
Simple…cancer. I’m still coming back from the disease that nearly killed me…yes, my family doctor was scared for me; yes, I was that bad off; no, you wouldn’t have been able to tell. The treatment that saved me has played havoc with my body, coming back from that, too.
Show me the employer who would accept and hire:
- Chemo-brain. Memory and understanding went out the window when treatment started. What used to take me an instant to remember and know, well, I forget easier. I draw blanks where I used to actually be quite smart. It’s coming back…two whole years since last treatment.
- Stamina. Don’t have it. Can’t stand or walk for long. Sure as hades cannot kneel to the floor and hope to get back up…tried last night.
- Eyes are pretty good, now. Had two cataract surgeries, pretty normal.
- Teeth. Chemo and dental hygiene don’t always work together. A few cavities and other work is being done. Had to wait six months before I could even see the dentist after chemo stopped. Hey, chemo is a poison.
- The Hair. Let’s say hats are my friend and new style. Long in the back and missing on the top. Skin…yeah, it’s there. And given my hair fear…no one touches my head or hair unless they want to see a major meltdown freak out that’s no hysteria joke…well, I’m alive and dealing.
Dang, when I write it out the weight feels like (a) more and (b) what’s the big deal. That’s just it, everyone’s different.
So, I went searching for what I could do from home. A year ago the brain wasn’t ready to edit, so that went to the wayside, even before I knew it was cancer. But, stay tune for editing news cause I’m back…don’t judge me on this post, I’m writing how I talk, LOL.
I was already with Avon. But, I wanted something else. Found Pink Zebra via a writer friend…hey, I love scents and buy them all the time. Discovered Epicure via another friend…I like easy cooking and behold another friend was looking for a new consultant. Thirty-One Gifts…I’m not allowed to talk about my purse/bag/organization collection. Let’s just say this is also a very good fit.
I can’t guarantee you’ll like my stories. I’m hoping through one of my genres you will find something to your taste.
I can’t guarantee you’ll like everything I sell, but I can guarantee I’m serious about succeeding. I’m proud of my businesses and I’m proud of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone and coming back from a place that was far darker than I ever want to visit again.
Piece of unsolicited advice…take that chance. It will be difficult. It will be a challenge. It will be frustrating and fearful. It is worth it.