Writing Tips: Making the Switch to a Writing Career

Advice from the trenches.

Nineteen years ago, I left my full-time job as a Senior Financial Analyst for a Fortune 100 corporation to begin a career as a freelance writer.

Some Ancient History

The job I left was a good job. I was in my late 20s, bringing in more than $45K a year. In 1990, that was a pretty good salary. I’d been with the company for two and a half years after five years with the New York City Comptroller’s Office and was on the fast track for upper financial management. If I’d stuck around, I probably would have doubled my salary in two to three years.

But although I was good at what I did and I didn’t mind the work, it wasn’t what I wanted to do with my life. I didn’t want to be just another corporate grunt, working 40 to 60 hours a week in an office park 30 miles from home, living for weekends and vacation time. I was tired of wearing suits and heels and pretending that the work I did was important or even meaningful. I was a number cruncher, drawing the conclusions my bosses wanted from numbers we couldn’t change. It was bullshit.

I’d gotten to where I was by going to college — I was the first one in my family to do so — and getting a BBA in accounting. I liked working with numbers and I was good at it. When you’re starting college at 17, what do you know about life or careers? I came from a lower middle class family and all I knew is that I didn’t want to be poor. Accountants made a lot of money, I liked working with numbers. It seemed like the right answer.

Until I got into my junior year at college. That’s when I started to realize that what I did in college would determine what I did for a living when I finished. And I didn’t want to be an accountant. I wanted to be a writer.

I remember calling up my mother and telling her that I wanted to change my major to journalism. I remember her freaking out, telling me I’d never make a living as a writer, that I’d starve. She wanted me to become a CPA. She, like so many mothers out there, wanted her children to succeed in careers she could brag about. “My daughter is a CPA” sounds a lot better than “My daughter is a reporter for Newsday.” (Newsday was the daily newspaper out on Long Island in New York, where we lived at the time.) That’s not to say I planned to write for Newsday, but it was probably what she was thinking.

So I backed down and stuck with accounting. It was a decision I’ve regretted for nearly 30 years.

It was also the last time I listened to my mother.

As you might imagine, in May of 1990, when I called my mother to tell her I was leaving my secure, high-paying job to become a freelance writer, she freaked out. But there really wasn’t anything she could say to stop me.

Don’t Leap before You Look

Now those of you who are reading this might think I was very brave to take this rash step. But it wasn’t rash. It was well thought out and executed.

You see, I didn’t just throw away a career and start scrambling for work. I already had a project lined up. A company I’d done some part-time training for wanted a five day computer course about using computers for auditing. Computers were relatively new at the time and laptops were cutting edge technology. Some of the better funded corporate internal auditing departments — including the one I’d spent two years in — were buying laptops for their staff. The training organization saw a market for a course written by a computer “expert” with a background in auditing. Someone with writing skills. Me.

The course paid $10,000. It wasn’t something I could work on while continuing my full-time job — it was just too intense. My boss wouldn’t give me a leave of absence, so I quit. Simple as that.

But $10,000 certainly wasn’t enough to live on, so I needed to line up other work. I got a job as a per diem instructor for a computer training organization. They called me in when they needed me and paid me by the day. Some weeks I’d get just one day of work. Other weeks I’d get four days. They tried to hire me as a full-timer, but I wanted no part of that.

As I worked on the auditing with computers course and did some per-diem training, I started networking. I got other, better paying contract computer work. I sent out queries and book proposals. I got an assignment as a ghost writer for four chapters of a computer book. I built a relationship with one of the co-authors of that book. Together, we sold another book to another publisher. I sent out other proposals on my own. I got my first solo book contract. I got assignments from computer magazines. I got my own column in one.

All this happened over a period of three years. By then, I was securely entrenched in my new career as a computer how-to writer and trainer. Within two more years of hard work, publishers were coming to me, offering me books.

The point is, I didn’t jump ship without a solid plan that would keep me earning money while I could build my writing career.

I think I was smart. And I think some other people are dumb.

Like my old friend Mary (not her real name). I wrote about her once before in this blog. She always wanted to be a novelist and one day she decided her full-time job was holding her back from succeeding. She quit and spent her days in her apartment, supposedly writing. A year later, she was out of money and deep in debt with her family. Her novel wasn’t done, either. She was forced to go back to work. To my knowledge, she still hasn’t had a novel published.

That’s the dumb way of starting a career as a writer.

Take Things Seriously

I think Mary’s story is a good example of someone who simply isn’t taking a writing career seriously. Unless you’re independently wealthy or have the financial support of someone with a lot of patience, you can’t just throw away a real job to try your hand at writing.

And yes, I did just say “real job.” A real job is a job that pays you money. When I left my real job, I had two other real jobs lined up: the big writing project and the computer training work. Mary had nothing lined up. She just had a vague idea about writing a novel. She didn’t even have any ideas about who would publish it. And in case you don’t realize it, it’s tough to make s living as a novelist unless your work is published so people can buy it.

Of course, nowadays many people don’t have a choice about leaving a real job. Their employers or the economy itself might have made the choice for them. Layoffs and business closings currently have over 15 million Americans out of work. That’s as of now — who knows what the situation might be like in six months or a year? If you’ve always dreamed about starting that writing career and you suddenly find yourself out of a real job and with plenty of time on your hands, this might be the time to start work on that freelance career. In between job hunting exercises — and I certainly don’t suggest that you forget about getting a new real job — start writing.

No matter what your situation is, you need to take a career change seriously. Start by doing some soul searching. Answer the following questions as honestly as possible:

    Writer's Keyboard This is a real writer’s keyboard.
  • Do you have the skills to be a writer? As professional journalist Dan Tynan recently wrote in his blog, “Just because you know how to operate a keyboard doesn’t make you a writer.” I couldn’t have said this any better. Too many typists out there think they’re writers. Get real. Look at your work objectively. Have other people read it — people who will give you objective feedback. If you’re not a writer, you’d better build some skills before you try to make it a career. Unless the topics you write about are in great demand, no editor is going to want to spend time repairing your prose prior to publication.
  • Do you understand the importance of getting your work published? You can’t make money on what you write unless it’s published someplace for people to read. While print publishing appears to be in a slow spiral to death, that’s not your only publishing option. But you do need to find a way to publish that’ll earn you money. The way I see it, your options range from starting your own blog and hoping to get advertising revenues to support you (good luck, especially as online advertising declines) to building a relationship with a traditional print publisher who pays under formal contract by the word, assignment, or book.
  • Do you have the business skills to connect with paying markets? That’s really what it’s all about. You can be the best writer in the world, but unless you can find a match for your work with a publisher willing to pay for it, you’re simply not going to succeed on your own. If you’re trying to write books, that’s when you might consider an agent — and kiss away 10% to 15% of your gross earnings.
  • Do you have a plan for getting started as a writer? If you don’t, can you make one that’ll work? As detailed above, I had a plan. My friend, Mary, didn’t. The plan is one of the reasons I succeeded and she didn’t. (The other reasons may be in this bulleted list.) The plan was reasonable and it required a lot of hard work. I didn’t whine or complain when I got a rejection letter for a book idea. I just developed other ideas and kept trying to sell them. I also didn’t sponge off my future husband or family to get by during the lean times. I always had some kind of work, some kind of revenue source. It simply isn’t fair to your friends or family to build your writing career on their backs.

Right now, real journalism is in serious decline. Who knows what position I’d be in now, if I’d made that major switch in college? Would I have gone into pure journalism and be a victim of the cutbacks we’re seeing today? Or would I have used the writing skills and insights I’d gained during my college education to branch into some other kind of writing?

Perhaps the kind of writing I do now?

Who knows?

I like to think that there will always be a need for talented writers. I like to think that it’s still something that a person can make into a career.

But until you’re able to earn at least half of your income from writing, don’t quit your day job.

The Challenges of Aerial Photography

It ain’t easy.

A lot of people think that aerial photography is easy. Go up in an aircraft and snap a photo. What can be easier than that?

Truth of the matter is, it’s not as easy at it seems. Mike and I learned this a while back, when we attempted to provide aerial photography services when I owned an R22 helicopter. And as a business person, photographer, and pilot, I have a unique perspective on the topic.

The way I see it, problems fall into three areas.

Client’s ability to accurately communicate what he wants a photo of.

Some clients — those are the folks who want the photos — simply can’t communicate what they want a photograph of. Couple that with their unreasonable expectations of what the photographer can do and the photographer’s failure to communicate his limitations and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.

Take, for example, one of our early photo shoots. A guy owned 10 acres of land southwest of Wickenburg. He hired us to photograph it from the air so he could use the photograph as a selling tool. What he failed to explain is that he expected a straight-down image, almost like a super zoomed in satellite view. The aircraft that take those kinds of photos are airplanes with belly cameras flying at 10,000 feet or higher. We can’t shoot straight down with our setup. The client said he wanted a photo of his land from the air. When we provided a very usable image from 1,500 feet up, slightly to the south, the client was very disappointed.

If you’re reading this as someone who needs aerial photos of a specific place, take the time to talk to the photographer and tell him exactly what you need. Draw pictures if you have to. Make sure he understands and can deliver what you need.

Photographer’s ability to communicate what he wants the pilot to do so he can get the shot.

This is the one that I, as a pilot, run into all the time. This problem appears to break down into three separate causes.

  • The photographer thinks I’m a mind-reader and that I know what he wants to shoot, so he doesn’t provide instructions. When I don’t get the aircraft in the right position, it’s my fault because I couldn’t read his mind.
  • Horseshoe Bend with Plane
    My helicopter was part of the equipment for this shot by Mike Reyfman. We were in an OGE hover 2,000 feet above the canyon when this plane came into view 1,000 feet below us.

    The photographer doesn’t understand exactly what a helicopter can do. Yes, if it isn’t too windy or we’re not too heavy or high, I can hover on point so you can get the shot. Yes, I can make a sharp turn — left or right — around the target. Yes, I can climb almost straight up (or descend almost straight down) to change the angle of the shot. Yes, I can fly sideways, at slow speed, to keep the target in frame. Yes, I can chase the target at almost any altitude or speed needed, keeping the target in front, beside, or behind the aircraft. But if the photographer doesn’t ask for any of these things, I’m not going to volunteer them. After all, I’m just the pilot — not the photographer.

  • The photographer seems almost afraid to ask me to fly the way he needs me to. Maybe he’s flown with other pilots in the past who simply would not perform the maneuvers he needed. (I get a lot of my Phoenix-area photo business because one local helicopter operator refuses to fly below 300 feet or slower than 60 knots — not exactly flexible enough for aerial photography.) Some photographers may believe that all helicopter pilots set arbitrary limitations on how they’ll fly and don’t want to push. I don’t know about you, but if I’m paying a pilot $450/hour to fly me around to get the shots I need, I’m going to ask him to do exactly what I need him to do. If he says no, I won’t push. But if he says no to everything I ask, I’m not likely to call him again.

Pilot’s ability to put the aircraft where it needs to be to get the shot.

Sometimes the pilot just can’t do it. This could be because of lack of skill, lack of aircraft performance capability, or lack of space for maneuvering the aircraft:

  • Wheat Harvest
    My buddy, Jim Van Sky, was flying his helicopter in central Washington state last summer when he put me in position to get this shot. Jim is a highly skilled pilot with plenty of experience taking photographers around. It was a pleasure to shoot with him at the controls.

    Skill is pilot-specific. Either he has the skill or he doesn’t. He might not have it this year, but he might have it next year — that’s why it’s always a good idea to work with an experienced pilot. I know I can safely perform certain maneuvers now, at 2,100 hours flight experience, that I couldn’t even dream of performing when I was still building my first 1,000.

  • Aircraft performance is aircraft-specific. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard photographers choose an R22 instead of an R44 or an airplane instead of a helicopter just to save a few bucks. When will these people learn that the aircraft is part of the equipment? Would you do the shoot with a disposable camera if a professional level Nikon or Canon were available? Yeah, the pro camera will cost more, but it’ll do a much better job. The same goes for aircraft. Airplanes simply lack the flexibility of helicopters for serious aerial photography. Yes, you can often get the same shot from an airplane, but it’ll take the pilot twice as long to get into position and to get back into position for the next batch of shots. And while you’re getting into position, you can’t get all those other interesting shots you might see because the wing strut or prop or some other airplane component is in the way. (And yes, there are exceptions to this, but they’re mostly customized solutions, such as the aircraft flown by photographer Adriel Heisey.) As for R22 vs. R44 (or any other larger helicopter), unless both you and your pilot weigh under 150 pounds and you’re flying with half tanks of fuel at sea level on a cool, calm day, you’re asking for trouble flying a serious photo mission in such a small aircraft. It simply does not have the performance needed for challenging maneuvers or high density altitude operations. The photographer in this aircraft learned the hard way.
  • Rainbow Bridge
    My husband, Mike, took this shot of Rainbow Bridge a few years ago. It’s tough to get a shot better than this from the air.

    Location isn’t always accessible. Sometimes there just isn’t enough room in the air around the target to get into position. Here’s a good example. I take a lot of photographers over Lake Powell. Many of them want to shoot Rainbow Bridge, which is in a deep, narrow canyon off the lake. Because of the nature of the canyon and its surroundings and the weird wind patterns that sometimes set up in there and the general high density altitude conditions that prevail at Lake Powell, the closest I can get to Rainbow Bridge is about 500 to 1000 feet above it. I won’t hover there — if we get into a settling with power situation, there’s simply no way out. I always do it as a slow fly-by, circling as needed. That’s the best I can do. Part of it is skill and part of it is aircraft performance (or my understanding of it though 800 hours of stick time in that aircraft), but most of it is the sheer difficulty of the terrain around the target. I’m not willing to descend down into a canyon that I may or may not be able to safely climb out of. There are plenty of other places like this where, for one reason or another, the aircraft just can’t get into the perfect position for the photographer to get the shot.

And then there’s the photographer.

San Francisco
I was a passenger on my own helicopter when I shot this view of San Francisco with the marine layer moving in beneath us.

None of these points take into consideration the photographer’s skill, his choice of lenses and other equipment for the shoot, and the suitability of the subject matter for aerial photography.

Some photographers just don’t “get” aerial photography. That doesn’t mean they won’t. It just means they need to think it out beforehand, give it a few tries, analyze the results, and try again until they do.

Or maybe it just isn’t for them.

But when done right, aerial photos can be a truly amazing look at our world.

What’s Blooming in My Yard on May 7

A few snapshots.

Yellow Prickly Pear Flowers

Here’s the yellow version…

This is the time of year when all those prickly cacti call out for attention that isn’t painful. They’re starting to flower.

My husband and I planted every single plant within the wall that surrounds our immediate yard. The rest of our 2-1/2 acres is mostly as nature intended.

We planted desert plants because we live in the desert and see no reason to pour precious water into the ground if we don’t have to. That doesn’t mean that we don’t irrigate at all. We do — a little. But not much. You see, most of the plants are cacti.

Salmon Prickly Pear Cactus Flowers

…and here’s the salmon version.

Right now, the prickly pear cacti are flowering in my back yard. Interestingly, they’re blooming in two slightly different colors: a yellow and a pale salmon. The plants came from the same source on the same day and were planted at the same time. Why they are two different colors is beyond me.

The flowers are amazing. They look almost like wax. Here’s a glimpse of them; you can click a larger photo to see it in my Photo Gallery.

What’s also interesting about these cacti is that last year they produced mostly new cactus pads. Think of the pads as branches or leaves. Each pad will produce either flowers or more pads. Last year we had lots of pads — so many that I cut some young ones off and grilled them up to have with dinner a few times. But this year it’s flowers. Don’t know how the plant decides.

Cholla Flowers

Cholla Flowers

The cholla (pronounced choy-ya) flowers — or at least one type of cholla — there are many — are also blooming. Cholla is a particularly nasty type of cactus. I can blame the poor quality of this photo on the simple fact that I refused to get close enough to this cactus for it to bite me. This type of cholla grows well in my yard; green and hardy. The flowers were a surprise; I guess I missed them last year.

More cactus flowers are on the way. I’ll try to snap photos of them as they bloom. I noticed that the new arms on our big saguaro have flower buds but the top doesn’t have any yet. I’m wondering about that.

The hedgehog cacti are just about finished blooming now. I got a great photo of one in Page, AZ last week; you can see it in this blog post. I haven’t had time to add the other photos of this cactus to my gallery; I hope to do it soon.

Not enough hours in a day.

Southwest Circle Track

More of a squished oval, as you can see.

Southwest Circle TrackLast week, I flew about 8 hours, visiting several popular tourist destinations along the way: Sedona, Grand Canyon, Page, Monument Valley, and Flagstaff. For each leg of the flight, I had my Spot Messenger running, leaving a breadcrumb trail of my GPS location every 10 minutes. The result could be found on my Spot Public tracking page, http://tinyurl.com/FindMaria. (That page only shows my track points from the past 7 days, so it may be empty or showing something else when you view it.)

Yesterday, I viewed the results and captured them as a screenshot. Here it is. You can click the image to view a larger version that might be easier to read.

I guess I can say that this is the official track of Flying M Air’s Southwest Circle Helicopter Adventure.

And no, I’ve done geekier things than this.

Alex the Bird at the Office

Showing off.

I bought Alex the Bird a stand that he can hang out on in my office. The idea was really to take it down to Rear Window (our Phoenix condo) so he can hang out with me when I work there. He really hates it there and I know he’d like it better if he could spend more time with me. But since neither of us spend much time at Rear Window, the stand hasn’t made it down there yet.

Anyway, I realized that with him standing behind me, I could probably get some good photos of him with my computer’s built-in iSight camera. So I took a shot.

Then I realized that I could also make a movie with the camera. So I fired up iMovie and recorded directly from the iSight into an iMovie file. Here’s the result. Alex can talk up a storm when he’s in the mood, but he wasn’t at his best this evening. I’ll try again another time.