Jan 4
3 min read
Can I Make Money Writing Without Selling My Soul?
Greed almost destroyed my writing.
Another dull gray winter day I sit down to write, my soul finally feels naked enough to write something half decent, I hope. I glance outside. The sky feels like a boarded-up ice cream shop on a windy winter boardwalk, empty cold where warm life once was. I can’t help but absorb its energy.
