Confessions of a Keyword Concubine

Most of the things I write about as a keyword concubine are pretty benign. Let’s face it, only among a handful of hardcore fans is there much controversy surrounding the topics of used pool tables or fun things to do in Philadelphia. Occasionally I’ll take on an assignment that might stir up some emotion because I feel strongly about it, one way or the other.

But sometimes I stumble into a situation where I’m asked to write something against my own beliefs or ethics. A minor example of this is being asked to write about an unproven herbal remedy as if it’s a miracle cure for terminal cancer. I won’t do it. I won’t encourage desparate patients to use time and money they could be spending on improving the quality of their lives chasing a phantom cure.

Then there are the big ethical no-no’s. I recently had a client ask me to write an article about “pre-teen sex.” My response was a terse, five word, “You’ve got to be kidding.” The client wrote back explaining the site s/he needed content for was designed for teens to provide accurate information about sexuality. I responded that accurate sex education has no greater proponent than I, but that he had asked for an article about “pre-teen sex,” not teenagers and sexuality. I was determined not to write an article that would titillate every pedophile with an Internet connection.

In the end, we compromised. I wrote a dull, factual article about sexual development in the pre-teen years. For good measure, I threw in that, while normal pre-teens may engage in sexual play and exploration with each other, an adult who wants to have sexual contact with a pre-teen is not normal and should be reported to the nearest trusted authority figure. The entire 300-word article took me nearly five days to research and write, an embarrassingly slow record for someone who is usually a fast writer.

At least, however, I came out of it feeling I’d stayed true to my own value system which emphasizes protecting children from predatory pedophiles. Sometimes when you do keyword writing, you have to walk a thin line between what the client wants and what you believe is right. Every keyword writer must make the final decision for him or herself. As for me, I’ve decided that the money isn’t worth selling my soul.

Child Protection Issues:

Eight Dangerous Myths about Spanking on NoSpank.net

What Should I Do When I See Someone Hitting Their Kid? on NoSpank.net

And the final articles in my Mary Tudor series:

The Two False Pregnancies of Queen Mary I of Englandon Suite101.com

Mary I of England – Beloved Queen or Bloody Mary? on Suite101.com

Part of my philosophy of keyword writing is to always keep looking for new gigs, because you never know when the old ones are going to dry up. I’ve seen too many seemingly stable employers come and go to want to put all my eggs in one basket, thank you.

Anyway, I’ve been writing for Experts123 for a few weeks, picking up an article here and an article there. If I recall, the last one I wrote for them was about buying supplemental insurance. Their work for hire assignments are reasonably priced, and they pay on schedule.

I usually leave the revenue share assignments alone, because you have to have something like half the free world look at your content to earn a couple of bucks. So whatever possessed me to apply to their revenue share program as an “Adult Caregiver Expert”? Beats me, but they decided I had the expertise they were looking for and accepted my application. Every other week or so, I’ll be posting articles about issues of concern to adult caregivers like cognitive dysfunction, changing their loved one’s living arrangements, home care options, dealing with nursing facilities, long distance caregiving, caregiving and legal issues, adaptive devices to help seniors remain independent, safety issues, elder abuse, self care for the caregiver, end of life care, and any other topic I can think of that might be relevant.

This is a true labor of love–I know very well these articles probably won’t earn me a dime. But they will give me a soapbox to talk about one of my favorite topics: the family members and friends who tirelessly provide care to loved ones who need assistance. If one caregiver finds one of my articles and gets some hope or comfort from reading it…well, mission complete.

‘Til next time!

Who Are Adult Caregivers? – Experts123

And for those of you with a passing interest in Tudor history:

Mary Tudor – From Princess of Wales to Bastard Child - Suite101

Family Feud Among the Children of Henry VIII – Mary vs. Edward - Suite101.com

Mary Tudor and her Bloodless Rebellion Topple Jane Grey - Suite101

For those of you who are wondering, yes, I am a little curious about “Bloody Mary” and what made her into the person she was. My next article in the series will deal with how she could think she was pregnant twice…and be wrong both times. Physician error, medical condition, wishful thinking, or flat-out lie? You decide.

Whew! What a whirlwind month or so it’s been since I’ve last posted. Let’s see…I got my new computer. The first one I bought froze up every time I looked at it, so I had to exchange it. The whole process was a pain in the neck, but the newest computer, an HP, works great. It’s so much faster than my poor old clunker.

Of course, when I got my new computer, I realized how shabby my old computer desk looked, so I had to buy a new one. And then the office chair I’d been using for the last century or so broke, so I needed to get another one of those, too. And to make room for all the new stuff, I had to do a thorough apartment cleaning. I ended up calling 1-800-GOT-JUNK. Their service was amazing, and they hauled away about half a truck load of furniture and other items I no longer needed. Then I donated another three boxes of books, DVDs, and CDs to the thrift store that helps fund the not-for-profit hospice where I’m employed as a social worker.

So, I’ve spent the weekends working like crazy on my apartment, but my efforts are finally starting to pay off. It looks less like a landfill now and more like a living space. The only unhappy campers are my cats, who enjoyed playing among all my junk. I figure they’ll deal with it.

The best part is that through all of this chaos, I’ve been writing steadily. I’ve done several assignments for Textbroker at decent rates, and Experts123 has also been a steady source of income. I also have a confidential client for whom I write blog posts. Finally, I’ve gotten to indulge some of my interests on Suite101.com. Lately I’ve been interested in lobotomies, after watching the 1982 movie Frances, a biopic about the actress Frances Farmer. I’ve listed my two lobotomy articles below in case anyone else is as morbid as I am. But here’s the ultimate irony. Contrary to what is portrayed in the movie, Frances Farmer never actually had a lobotomy! That was a myth started by one of her biographers. Oh, well, at least I got some writing mileage out of it.

‘Til next time!

Recent Articles

The History of the Frontal Lobotomy in the United States

Famous Lobotomies – Celebrities Who Underwent Psychosurgery

And for those of you who have absolutely no interest in lobotomies…

Cat Fight: When Two Cats in the Same Household Can’t Get Along (Not to brag, but this one includes a couple of adorable photos of two of my cats. At least I think they’re adorable, anyway.)

I don’t know about anyone else, but my writing assignments seem to come in spurts. Either I have no assignments and I’m frantically looking for work and/or bored silly, or I have way too much to do and sleep becomes a distant, pleasant memory.

Now, I’m a born worrier, so when I have too much to do, I not only work compulsively, I worry compulsively as well. Some people feel that anxiety improves their performance. It doesn’t improve mine. In fact, the more anxious I am, the more I notice that my writing jumps all over the place because I can’t keep my mind on what I’m doing. Other thoughts keep intruding. (“How am I going to get all this done?!” “I’ve got to hurry, I still have three articles due tonight.” “Why, oh why, did I waste an hour watching House when I could have been writing?” And so on.)

I was on the verge of driving myself crazy (a pause while the obligatory wise ass in the audience asks, “What do you mean verge?”) when I remembered an old trick I learned when I became a social worker.

My first real social work job was in the emergency room of a major trauma center. Talk about distraction! Ambulances coming in, doctors shouting orders, patients demanding attention, family members wanting information…I spent most nights juggling at least a dozen different cases at once. The only way to manage it was to learn to focus. Before I went into a room or cubicle to talk to a patient or family, I would close my eyes and think, “Right now, this person is the only thing that matters.” Whether I spent a minute or an hour with them, they had my full attention. As soon as my work with them was completed, I would go on to the next case and do the same thing. It worked beautifully.

Now I just have to learn to do the same thing with my writing: connect and commit to the page I’m working on so that it becomes the only thing that matters. Finish that and go on to the next project. And so forth.

I’ll get the hang of it. One of these days.

Like most freelance writers I know, I have a love/hate relationship with deadlines. On the one hand, I’d much rather be a “free range” writer and never have to deal with them again. On the other hand, I crave their structure.

Seemingly immobilized, I can dilly and dally and shilly and shally on a project for weeks. But as the deadline draws near, something interesting happens. I regain my focus. The words that wouldn’t come suddenly do. Not only do they come, but they actually come in an order that makes sense and is pleasing to the ear and eye.

I lose my urge to play Luxor and Tetris and start making actual progress on my project. A few hours of hard work and…it’s done. Usually right under deadline. Some eBayers have turned “sniping”–outbidding others in the last seconds of an auction–into an art form. I’m that way with deadlines. If it’s due at midnight, I usually click the send button at 11:59 and 59 seconds.

Every time I do that, I have a very stern talk with myself. “Self,” I say, “You knew about that project for weeks and just let it sit there. You should have been working on it all along. If you’d done that, we’d be getting to bed at a decent hour and we wouldn’t have nearly as much gray hair.”

And I agree with myself. Humbly. But when the next project comes along, I do exactly the same thing.

Some people are “front runners.” They like to break out from the pack, take the lead early in the race, and set the pace for everyone else. I’ve always wanted to be a front runner, but over the years I’ve come to realize that it’s not in the cards for me anymore than being 5′10″ or skinny is in the cards for me. My style is to come from behind. Much as I hate it, I need the pressure of that deadline to spur me into action.

I haven’t given up entirely on the concept of self-discipline. Over the years, for instance, I’ve gotten much better at doing plenty of research in advance of the due date so that when my creative spurt arrives I can focus all my energy on writing. I’ve also gotten better at breaking big projects down into small parts and working on them one at a time. But I’ve learned that if I don’t have a deadline, even a self-imposed one, the magic just doesn’t happen.

I’d love to stay and discuss it further, but–you guessed it!–I’ve got a project to get out and I’m on a short deadline!

You’ve re-arranged your email address book at least a dozen times, mopped the kitchen floor twice, found every item you’ve ever lost including some you never wanted to see again, and cleaned the cat’s litter box…with a toothbrush. Now it’s time to get down to business and start writing.

When that moment arrives, what’s your favorite environment? Do you prefer to write your first draft longhand or to type it? Desktop or laptop? Inside or outside? Any special rituals that help you get started and keep going?

Over the last few months, I’ve developed a nightly ritual that gets me past the day’s insanity and ready to focus on writing. First I check my email. Of course. I might find a terrific new assignment, or maybe an editor who didn’t need something until next week has changed his mind and now needs it yesterday. Or who knows, maybe some nice Nigerian man will offer me several thousand dollars to help him smuggle his fortune into the U.S. Hey, it could happen!

Once I’ve checked all my email accounts and put out any immediate fires, I light a candle. I’m something of a candle freak. I find the flame mesmerizing when I’m trying to come up with just the right word, and I love the scent. (If you had four cats, you’d be glad for a scented candle, too.) I usually have at least four or five candles of different flavors, so you can see that choosing the right one is a serious undertaking. Last night was a “lavender” night because I was stressed from the day and needed to relax. The night before was a “cherry mist” night because I needed something to pick up my flagging energy.

When the candle’s lit, I have no excuse for further delay. I go to my “to do” list and get started. There are four types of projects on my list. Easy or fun ones that only take a few minutes (like paid posting or blogging), longer projects that take an hour or more, research, and marketing. I try to arrange my time to get the fast projects out of the way first, do a half hour of marketing, an hour or so of research, and spend the rest of my night writing.

I usually write until about 9:30 but if I’m on fire (no, not from the candle) or on deadline I may write much longer. But on normal evenings by the time 9:30 rolls around, I’ve gotten in a few hours of good, hard writing and I’m ready to start winding things down. I take a look at what I’ve done and make my “to do” list for the next evening’s writing.

Then I glance through the job boards and respond to any ads that sound promising.

Finally, I check my email one last time, blow out the candle, and curl up with a cat and a good book until the clock strikes midnight. Then it’s off to bed.

That’s what works for me, anyway. Now I’d like to hear what works for you…

The book Confessions of a Male Nurse by Richard S. Ferri gave me one of my all-time favorite quotations: “Some days chicken, some days feathers.” It sort of sums up my philosophy of life in general and writing in particular.

Some days, everything I touch is golden. The job boards yield fantastic opportunities. The clients pour in. Writer’s block is a distant memory as my fingers dance over the keyboard. Plot problems that have perplexed me for weeks suddenly become crystal clear. Chicken.

Then there are the other days. You know the ones. The best offer on the job boards is fifty cents for a 10,000 word article. Clients haven’t called in so long that you wonder if you shouldn’t start checking the obituaries. Each agonizing word feels like it’s eating its way through your brain before reluctantly showing up on the computer screen. Feathers.

This weekend was all about feathers. A set of articles I’d completed found their way into a client’s junk email box. He thought I’d missed my deadline and almost fired me before he figured out what had happened. A short story I was working on got so convoluted I almost deleted the whole damn thing before I decided the smartest move would be to take a break and try again when I wasn’t feeling borderline suicidal. I had to write five articles about a topic that didn’t interest me in the slightest and didn’t pay worth jack. One of my cats peed on my favorite pair of shoes. To top it all off, I had a migraine headache that wouldn’t quit.

I dreaded sitting down at my writing desk last night, but all of a sudden, the tides turned. Chicken. Some special scented candles that I love to burn while I write came in the mail. The job boards were a wealth of opportunities. The client who’d been irritated with me this weekend hired me to write another set of articles. I figured out how to surgically remove an unnecessary subplot from my short story, making it a much stronger piece of work. All of my assignments this week are on topics that interest me. And the words flowed as I swiftly made my way down my “to do” list.

Who knows what today will bring? Some more juicy jobs? Or a bunch of rejections from all those choice assignments I applied for? Whatever it is, I know I’ll be able to handle it. Some days chicken, some days feathers.

I’ve known since I was a little kid that I wanted to write. While other kids were using their money to buy candy bars and cute earrings, I was saving up to buy The Writer’s Market and You Can Write a Romance and Get it Published. (No, I can’t.) Funny thing, though. When I was a kid and dreamed of writing I always imagined I’d be…well…writing. (Okay, I also imagined I’d be writing in a cozy little cabin in the rocky mountains with snow falling and the wind howling outside, but that’s beside the point.)

But I never thought about all the other things that go into writing. For example, I spent nearly six hours yesterday on my business and perhaps an hour or less of that was actual writing.

First I had to read and respond to some emails regarding my web design and some information I’d requested about a couple of freelance jobs.

After that came financial issues. I entered a couple of payments in my accounting log (Yea!) and transferred funds from PayPal to my checking account. I also got my taxes ready to mail. The taxes weren’t as painful as I feared they would be, because I finally hired a private bookkeeper and she got me back almost $1500 total–$800 for this year and $700 for last year. I swear I will never use the large accounting firms again for my taxes. They simply don’t know what they’re doing! Then I had to print out and mail an invoice for a client who won’t let me invoice online. (Grrrr…).

Financial issues at last resolved, I then combed the freelance job sites looking for work opportunities. Nothing fabulous smacked me in the face, but I did see a few things that sounded okay, so I dashed off emails to those potential employers. The rest was good for a laugh. Fifty cents per five-hundred word article? I don’t think so!

I then completed a short writing assignment. (Writing, finally!)

Next I researched a longer writing assignment. The information wasn’t difficult to find, but my computer decided to freeze a time or two. Add another hour to trouble-shooting computer problems and backing up all my work in case my hard drive decides to go belly-up.

Finally, I spent forty-five minutes publicizing my web site and trying to drum up new business. Whenever I do that, I’m always reminded of the old joke that fifty percent of money spent on advertising is wasted…you just don’t know which fifty percent.

Finally, later last night, I got back to article writing. I actually had a really good day in terms of productivity. It just wasn’t what I expected when I signed up for this wonderful, crazy world that is freelance writing!

I took a nonfiction writing class a few years ago. In many ways it was an extremely helpful class. The instructor, however, was very dismissive of fiction writing. His view was that there’s really no money in it unless you become well known (think Stephen King, Jodi Picoult, Janet Evanovich). He considered time spent on fiction “wasted” time and encouraged me to set aside my short stories and novels and spend my time working on nonfiction instead.

In terms of hard economic reality, the man had a point. Over the years, my novel and short stories have earned me somewhere in the neighborhood of two hundred bucks, a very small fraction of my total writing income.

There’s just one problem. I like writing fiction. I have fun coming up with different characters who take on a life of their own and surprise me with their foibles. I enjoy playing around with plot twists and shocking (I hope) endings to mysteries. Most of all, I enjoy being swept away on the grand calamities and triumphs of my imagination. Sure, I could live without writing fiction. I could also live without eating chocolate, but it would be a very boring existence.

So, I’m not going to follow my instructor’s advice in that particular area. Oh, I realize that nonfiction writing will always be my meat and potatoes (or veggies, if you prefer). I want to improve my skills as an article writer and a journalist. But I’m also going to keep the short stories and novels coming and work to improve my craft as a writer of fiction. Even if I never making a living from writing fiction, I’ll always enjoy doing it. And that’s enough for me.

They say doctors and nurses make the worst patients. I beg to differ. I think writers do. Take me, for instance. Yesterday, I woke up with a horrible migraine. The slightest noise sent pain lancing through my head, and a dark cave would have provided much too much light. I managed to open one eye and call in sick to my day job.

So then what did I do? Did I take my migraine medicine? No. Did I stay in bed until the pain subsided? No. While I was lying there wishing for death, or at least for a powerful anesthetic, I suddenly got an idea to jump start a stalled article I’d been working on. Ignoring the pain, I hopped out of bed to write. I spent most of the day and evening in front of the computer.

All this activity did not help my headache in the least. Around ten o’clock in the evening I finally gave up, took a couple of pain pills, and crawled back into bed. My headache went away during the night, thank goodness. But it probably would have gone away a lot sooner if I’d engaged in some basic self care.

Yesterday is not the first time I could be accused of not making the healthiest decisions. Whether it’s cramming down fast food instead of preparing a healthy dinner or ignoring a physical illness when the muse beckons, my body usually gets the short end of the stick.

And when you think about it, that doesn’t make a lot of sense. Doctors have known for years that the mind and the body are closely connected. Let one area slip, and you’re likely to have trouble with the other. In other words, if I don’t start taking better care of my body, my writing could suffer.

So, I’m going to try to be more mindful of the signals my body sends me. I’m far too realistic to believe that I’ll always make the right physical choice, but I want to make sure that I really am making a choice and not acting on some blind instinct. In the meantime, I’m glad to have the article out of the way, even if I did have to write it with a migraine.