Thursday, April 19

Green

Sitting in the park yesterday, avoiding the footballs and stray dogs flying in my direction, I tried to write.

I have a PDA I carry around with me complete with a wireless keyboard, so that if I write away from my computer, I can actually edit and reuse my creations later on without hiring a cryptographer to translate my handwriting. And so with the keyboard resting on the bag, which in turn was resting on my lap, I spent 30 minutes typing away in the green.

Undoubtedly I look like a ponce when I do this. Dressed in my office clothes, squinting at the tiny screen and tapping away on the wireless keyboard, I must look like a junior businessman trying to get a promotion so I can buy a real laptop, or, worse still, like a loner English student.

But lost in the thrill of the sloppily written word, and letting the heavenly rays of global warming tan my skin, I hammered away. And it was then that I found 20p lying on the floor.

Now I appreciate that some of you may not have the same dreams as me and may need some clarification as to the ramifications, the life changing, celebrity making, orgasm inducing ramifications, that this brought about. So let me explain.

I was writing. and I got money. Therefore, I am a paid writer!

Finally after all my years of thinking about maybe one day trying to work my way towards getting the chance to be considered for the option of being paid to write, it just happened to me in the middle of a lawn on a armageddonly warm April day.

I picked it up, thrilled that my dreams had come true so easily, and went to add it to my stash, because of course being a paid author I was incredibly poor and saving every penny. On opening my wallet however, I got the shock of my life; the change pocket was already open; some of my money must have fallen out. And yes, the 20p that had been in there earlier had disappeared.

It was my money I’d found. My own cash. No-one was paying me to write, I was merely a self-invested, self-absorbed, and worse still, self-published writer.

I couldn’t even call myself an ‘author.’

Drying my eyes, calming my breathing, and manipulating my painfully red limbs into movement, I gathered my loose silver together and brought a can of beer to help ease my woes.

Because at least then, like all real writers, I could say I wasted my royalties on booze.

Recent Broken Dreams
Why aren't you trying to get 250 free hits for your blog? You can take part right now just by adding FreelanceCynic to your Technorati favourites by clicking on this link. Or link to the FreelanceCynic and win a link back too. Click here to find out more.

13 comments:

Dale said...

You are a writer. And a boozebag. And broke. The triple crown of poncelicious writing! Well done!

I found your weather Armageddonly too!

Webmiztris said...

wow, you truly are a 'riter' now!!! congrats!

Preeti Shenoy said...

Only writers sit in parks with PDA so that they can write even away from their Pcs..Oh yes--you are a writer, no doubt.Whether you get paid by your money or someone else's!

Shelly Kneupper Tucker said...

You are so incredibly funny. Thanks for brightening my day. Now I have to go look up the word "ponce." Is this little old lady going to be shocked by its definition??? I'm always delighted to see a new post by you. Give me your address and I'll send you a "penny for your thoughts," so you can consider yourself a paid author.

Anonymous said...

Eek! The "comment ho" in me just realized I gave my old Blogger address.

Unknown said...

Awww, poor dear. :-(

Anonymous said...

Hi Cynic I found you at random - pressing "Random Blog Button", you know. At first I thought you were a Yank, then you pictured 20p pieces, then you talked about "humour" then I saw you lived over here ... one question, what is that enormous building pictured up above? It reminds me of the Royal Crescent in Bath..? But looks more like an academic building to me ... Just wondering ... I do a blog too, by the way. If you want to see it you're more than welcome: gledwood2.blogspot - my online secret diary of my life and problems. Maybe I'll see you there..?! Keep up the entertaining blogging. By the way I'm trying to get your url but The Random Blog button to-doo-dah is taking up the top bit of the screen... aagh!

Anonymous said...

Lol ah poor you! So do they use stray dogs as footballs in Bristol then? Would explain why their football team is so crap. You wanna be careful about looking line a loner English student...you might decide to get a gun and kill a load of US uni students...c'mon, you know someone was going to say it, and that someone was bound to be me!

Anonymous said...

*looking like
Damn you preview button!!!!

p.s. That last comment was a little risque...I may need to go into hiding for fear of repercussions!

Scarlet said...

"You sold out!!" I screamed at the screen. Then I read on. . . your just a poor blogger like the rest of us.

Ally said...

i love the word "ponce" even though i'm guessing at the definition through inference...

i was going to get a Palm T/X last year, but talked myself out it... i'm even a poor writer than you...

i love finding money in my pockets.

Anonymous said...

Dale,webmiztris, ps - I'm going to take that as a compliment...

Eclectic - you know how to make a hack author feel good.

Angelika - The deer are poor? I thought the deer economy was thriving?

Gledwood - That is the Council House of Bristol County Council

Alex - Suffice to say my original english student line went a bit further, but I'm a coward so I edited it out :)
Amazingly no one else seems to have got it. We're too worringly alike...

Scarlet - Stop shouting at your screen your give the poor thing a tubeattack.

Ally - It's a palm T|X I have actually. I got it out of the Money my Boyfriend got for his redundacy as he got a laptop and I was Jealous.

Anonymous said...

This is the kind of post I'm talking about Simon...funny!

This blog has re-incarnated as
The Freelance Guru!

Click to be Redirected.