Now that the book deal I had spent four month wrangling over has fallen through, I pulled the about page until I can figure out what it will say.
(Oh, did you miss that particular rant? You’ve got to move quick in the Burningbird world, or you’ll miss the good stuff. You can, however, still catch the link in Bloglines.)
After spending over a year with two publishers that have beat me about the psyche, eating away at my inspiration and enthusiasm like old, toothless sharks desperate for human juices, I don’t know if I want to consider myself a ‘technology writer’. Once I was a technology writer. Now, all I know is that I’m not a Wal-Mart worker.
Unlike the sharks, I’m not starving to death, thanks to contract PHP/MySQL and other work (helped in part by recommendations of a friend made through this weblog). I guess that makes me a member of an endangered species, a Woman in Technology; but it doesn’t make me a Technology Writer.
I could go elsewhere, look for another other publisher. I could also pull my fingernails out one by one, or have a dentist drill my teeth without Novocain.
I’ve talked about quitting the comp book biz before, but in the back of my mind, it was always there. Writing computer books isn’t just part of my income, it’s part of my identity. I feel like I’ve lost part of my identity, but I don’t know if this is a bad thing.
Without worrying about a computer book, there’s more time for walks. More time for pics. More time for my balcony garden, or bookbinding, or other interests. More time to write just for the fun of it. And no worries about offending–or trying to attract–any publisher or technology group, so I am free to write whatever I want.
No more sucking up to the toothless sharks.