“Kermit” commented in my last entry:
I highly doubt that freelancing will allow you to write what you want because you still have to cater to the requests of your publisher. So itâ€™s whoring no matter which way you go. With the other option, at least you have the luxury of choice to pick the second option at some time in the future (or become the Man rather just work for him).
Unless you’re the CEO, you have to cater to the requests of superiors no matter which occupation you choose. The same goes for freelance writing, but hey, at least I’m not busting my ass 70 hours a week at a job I hate (I’m not generalizing either, 90% of people I know in financial services loathe the lifestyle). Writing, with complete editorial control or not, is still more satisfying to me than crunching numbers. As for an income that offers “the luxury of choice” in the future, I say fuck that. By the time you get out of your two-year contract, finish business school, and pay back those loans, you’re pushing 30 and ready for the next great financial strain: marriage and kids. Sure, it’s easy to say that you can do what you really love in a few years, but the reality is that it’s now or never. And I’m not exactly known for my patience.
Besides, who says writers can’t enjoy comfortable lifestyles while honing their craft? The only gig cushier than working for the Man is fucking the Man and getting all the benefits of a six-figure job without actually, you know, doing the job. After all, great artists have always had their patrons.
Lit Whore With Better Hours Than Yours