I’m a cheap tart. Yes, I am. I have prostituted what I love doing almost more than anything, for just a very few US dollars.
I’ve been writing over the last few weeks for an American company that supplies so-called quality content to a certain How to.. website. To use a running metaphor, while I’m “injured” I can’t train properly and this feels like the writing equivalent of running on a treadmill – largely unsatisfying, but better than nothing. I’m very slow so I cannnot, WILL not look at my hourly rate – at $15 a pop for around 400 words, the proud little wordsmith in me weeps. I prefer to think they’re paying me for writing exercise.
Oh, and I’m your woman on a pub quiz team if there are questions on plants and animals of the Cambrian period, the causes of substance abuse on US campuses, and which hamsters make the best pets for children.