It Was Just a Matter of Time

Kids:

Grandma Letty has just finished her first e-book. Not for herself, but for hire. She got the assignment from a site for freelancers and since there are currently 9000 unemployed newspaper people, she stood little chance of working. But fortune smiled---sort of. Her rate in the old, prosperous days was 25 cents a word. After all, she is a pro. You know what she worked for on this project? A penny a word. The depression is really here.

I guess I'm lucky to work at home and get pennies for my efforts but it was a lot of fun to sit in a city room and trade repostes (look it up) with other people.

Here's the awful part: the job site had so many rules and regulations and submissions and just annoying stuff that I spent more time learning how to use it than I did writing a 15,000-word book in three days. I'll bet a whole day went for mastering the regulations. So much for the artiste, doncha know.

Despite my site ineptness, I got a great letter of recommendation and a promise to hire me many times again for this kind of thing. That's encouraging. Besides, I liked everything about it but the administration.

Here's the funny part: it was an e-book on dog training! A hefty batch of research and recalls about Gideon, our last dog, and Alpha, my first presented color. At least I thought so.

What a New Year

Dears:
Your probably weren't aware that newspapers are in trouble; venerable ones are in bankrupsy and others are shrinking their content and laying off editorial staff, which, translated, means "writers." I am one of them. My paper didn't publish this week or won't next for lack of funds.
Therefore, this week I applied for 5 new jobs for pennies on the dollar of what I'm worth, and the competition was so intense that more than hundreds of talented and capable writers applied, too, for the pittance that was offered.
I won't know for several days if I got any assignments. Meanwhile, I have a good New Years Eve story.
Since John and I live with many, many old people, we all gathered at our clubhouse, turned on CNN (which is three hours ahead in time on satellite), kissed each other and blew horns ( I provided) at 9p.m, because it was midnight in New York and the crystal ball had dropped. Then we went home and went to bed. Good show for old people.
To celebrate a small but vital quarterly payment, we went to our favorite restaurant, ordered the most expensive things on the menu, tipped the piano player $5, and toasted the new year with decaf coffee.
We also charged a trip to Russia. By June, we may have it almost paid off.
We also sent some slippers to Carole because she had coveted Tim's, and you know that's a sin.
I love you all. We're walking around the corner to pork steak and baked beans courtesy of one of our social residents and I'll just wish any soul who reads this a very happy New Year.