by Gina Sestak
Every other Saturday since last summer I've been blogging about the many jobs I've held. Most recently, I blogged about my present job -- attorney for an electric utility -- and my decision to accept an early retirement offer.
Today, it's my turn again. I had planned to write about dealing with vampires (selling blood plasma), or editing dissertations, or traveling to remote county courts to present motions, or taking inventory in stores, but the fact is that I've run out of time. My dial-up connection must have realized that I'll soon be getting broadband and, in retaliation, is acting out. Today it's very, v e r y s l o w. It is also disconnecting me from the internet repeatedly, which means I have to (very slowly) sign on again and again.
I have to leave early this morning because there's this writers' conference I'm attending, and I have an appointment with a potential agent. It's hard to sell a fiction book without an agent, and I have five completed manuscripts just cluttering up my writing space. I'm trying not to be too hopeful, but you can't succeed unless you try, and you can't try if you don't make it to the appointment on time. So here I go, into yet another career -- fiction writer. Like an old time shopkeeper, I am closing up this blog entry for the day and putting out a sign, "Gone Fishing." With a little luck, I just might catch an agent.
