Yippee ki-yay! I was going to run down this Wild West story and ride it to the big time
As mentioned in I Become a Crawling Thing, for a while I used to be what’s called a freelancer.
Basically, you’re a journalistic tumbleweed. You roll around trying to find an editor to hire you for an assignment at whatever pitiful pay you can get.
Scrounging for dollars back in the day, I rolled into a chamber of commerce office with a big tip for the magazine editor. One of my relatives had other relatives who claimed that one of their kinfolk actually knew Billy the Kid, the legendary western gunslinger.
A desperate time calls for a desperate solution
If you read A Sharp Poke in the Eye, you know that I wound up in a sorry state after struggling to write great literature.
The $1,800 bankroll I had been living on for one year was collapsing like a bad lung.
This is when you are faced with two awful impending realities: eviction . . . or . . . getting a real job.
What would you do? Apply for a job?
Uh, not me.