Taking the plunge

Imagine the scene. A wooden deck jutting out along the lakeside. The setting sun gently warms the sleeping dog, laying at her masters feet. Somewhere on the lake a duck takes to the air, sending ripples gently across the still surface. All is quiet. I lean forward, sip at the mug of coffee and click send on the screen of the laptop. Done. My first article has been submitted. A moment's pause to reflect on my old life, a tinge of regret, before the elation of realising a dream hits me. I am a writer. I am a creator of words, an artist with prose. OK, maybe that is an exaggeration. I do not presume to have become Truman Capote. But finally, after years of thinking I could do this, I have been paid for my skill in crafting words.

That is what I am hoping for. It is my ideal. Actually it is more imperative than that. I have given up my public sector job to become a freelance writer. If I don't get published I can't pay the rent, or any of those more mundane but essential considerations.

Over the weeks and months that follow, I will keep you up to date with the world of freelance writing. I will pour out my heart about the crushing rejection I will no doubt receive. I will celebrate with elation the day my first article is published. I will shout the house down when I receive my first cheque!

I have no doubt that, like a vast number of blogs, as I write this I am talking only to myself. I hope that in the near future my blog will be read by editors as I pitch article after article to them. I only hope they like what they see. Fingers crossed.