My earlier financial predictions were wildly overblown, but we’re doing okay. I did my year-end accounting yesterday, double-checking bank statements and receipts and credit card statements and making sure everything was in the Expenses Spreadsheet of Doom. (In reality, if the New Yorker wanted to buy my work, I’d probably drop a kidney.) But still. Mind you, if the New Yorker actually wanted to buy my work, the editor would drop me an email. Kris has seen that template dozens of times now, and didn’t notice it earlier. Hundreds of people have seen these manuscripts and did not notice that. I haven’t sold anything I’ve submitted for, oh, five years.
You could email me, or call, or even address an old-fashioned envelope with this–
I mean, there’s my name, the house number and street, email address, and phone number. The last day of the workshop, Kristine Kathryn Rusch hands back the a piece I’d given her the day before and says “Look at your address.” The first page starts with my name, meatspace address, phone number, and email address, some white space, and placeholders for title and first paragraph. It has headers already set up, font size, paragraphing, and all that stuff. I’ve been using the same Word template for submitting for, oh, five years now.
#Paul tomich white pages michigan pro
Selling a piece to a pro market is not only income, it’s advertising. I want to expand my readership, so I submit writing to people who can pay me for it. Other people have posted their thoughts on September’s 2015’s Oregon Coast writing workshop.
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