Whoops I Sat Down Too Long

What a day. On the air at 8:20, 9:05, 10:00, and 11:00, and I've had other crap to contend with, and I had to put together two syndicate submissions (plus a third online version). Now I have to write more material, because some syndicates want more than the four columns I've created, and others want them a different length.

I can spew out six hundred words in an hour, no problem, and I'm reasonably proficient with basic html, and I'm not afraid to talk on the radio. But not every writer can say those things. So I wonder how they survive.

I guess they don't, actually. They fail and go back to their accounting practices or whatever.

When I decided to try the syndicates again, I did what I always do. Bugged Lucianne Goldberg. I swear, that woman could claim me as a dependent. I wanted to see what she knew. Turned out it was plenty.

Bottom line: syndication is like publishing. In other words, making life cushy for writers is not the primary goal, or even in the top fifty. They charge a ton, and they don't do a hell of a lot. Okay, I can accept that. "Syndicated columnist" on my business card will make it easier for me to get PR, and every column will be a free ad for my books, so it doesn't have to be all gravy.

I can write 600-900 words a week with absolutely no interruption of my life. If that gets me ONE newspaper, it's worth it.

I'm about to have lunch--at last--and then some piano, and then more writing. And tomorrow, more radio.

I'll tell you what. Being busy with three books is a hell of a lot better than watching TV and having nothing going on in my life, and it even beats practicing law for a nice hourly rate. I'll bitch later. Right now, I just want to move ahead.