April 25, 2006
Commercial writers and writers like me that make a living off their words have a problem. That problem is, we're pretty easy to buy.

Okay. I've got the first book out in a series with a good publisher. It's coming out Oct. 1. I've already made plans to attend Bouchercon, which is that weekend in Madison, WI. My editor will be there, and there's a possibility of some promotional opportunities. It'll cost more than I make off it, but it's just part of the gig.

Yesterday, I signed a contract with a new client. It was for one large job and a 3-part job, and the totals with this client are about 2/3 of what I made all of 2005. They're paying me 50% up front, the rest when the various jobs are completed. It's very, very likely that they will become my best paying client, one with the potential to increase my income dramatically. They're hosting a convention in Washington DC the same weekend of Bouchercon. They already asked me if I was interested in coming, they'd pay all my expenses.

Well, now I'm starting to understand the problem Tantalus had, unable to eat or drink, though tempted.

I'm putting off the decision for a couple months. I'm going to Baltimore for a week-long convention for one of my other clients then--pretty much on their dime--and I just don't want to deal with making this decision until then.

I could cancel out on B-con and go to Magna cum Murder 3 weeks later instead.

Cementing this relationship with this client could have a significant impact on my career and my life.

It feels, in its weird way, as if there's a great balance hanging now--fiction versus nonfiction, make a choice.

That's probably overly dramatic, and life, if anything, is about choices.

It's weird. My fiction career is starting in a good way, picking up slow steam, and my nonfiction career is taking off in a major way (knock wood). I should be able to do both. I will do both. But still...

Best,
Mark Terry