Yup -- finally got the hardcopy of my story printed and in the mailbox, ready to go out. The little red flag is standing at attention as I type this (and
gordon_r_d, don't you
dare cry "filth!" -- it's not
my fault that red is the official color of the flags on mailboxes *_~)
When I get my check, it will be official -- I will be a professional, freelance storyteller... Or whatever the right word is. I'm not certain
anyone has tried doing a job exactly like this...
I must admit, asking for the money in the cover letter was the most awkward thing I've had to write... not because I'm embarrassed by the idea of getting paid for the story
per se (though I admit, that may be part of it), but mainly because the person I wrote the story for has been a friend and something of a mentor since 1989. To suddenly be saying to her: "this is what you owe me" as a
client rather changes the relationship, at least, temporarily. It may change it for the better, in the long run, but change always makes me feel a bit squiggly in my tummy.
* Anyway, getting this story printed wasn't easy. Because, for some inexplicable reason, my printer died suddenly between the printing of the cover letter and the printing of the story itself. The cover letter came out as crisp and clear as anything professionally done.
Everything I tried to print after that (even after changing the print head and putting in unused ink cartridges) came out absolutely
Blank -- as white as a polar bear in a blizzard.
So I uploaded the story to
Kinko's, and had them Fed-Ex the story to my door. The printing of 9 pages cost 72 cents. The shipping cost $9.33. Which cut my profit on this story by nearly half... maybe that's the universe's way of easing me into this asking for money business... ;-)).
But it's out there, now! I am on this life path for sure, and there is no turning back...
---
*Which is the primary reason I'm apprehensive about the Ninth Doctor. I'm not worried about the quality of the story, or of the medium through which it is told... But in order for a new Doctor to arrive, the one I have come to love now must go through some kind of trauma and hurt and ..."die"... When November rolls around, I may need some extra hugs... :-)