I was in downtown Atlanta a few weeks back, delivering a few seminars at a writers conference. I loooove getting out from behind my computer and mingling with the rest of humanity (and when they’re paying me, even better…). It’s part of the variety that makes me love this life I (we) have.

Well, apparently, that love and appreciation for My Pretty Cool Life came through loud and clear to one of the attendees of my morning session on self-publishing. After the talk, sitting at my book table, this gentleman approached with a lovely bit of good news: He was a freelancer who did the regular Why I Love My Job feature for the Atlanta Journal-Constitution, and I sure seemed to fit that profile. Would I like to be the subject of a future half-page instalment of the series? “Is this a trick question?” I asked, smiling. Like, duh.

He came by last Thursday to do the interview and snap a few, and that’ll be coming up some Sunday in May, I’m told. Yay. Of course, it got me thinking about how good I have it. There’s a special moment I have every morning (after rising about 8, 8:30, and commuting 15 feet to my office) when I’m sitting at my computer answering email. Big windows frame trees and more trees, and let the morning sun stream in. I always stop and think about everyone out on the highway, struggling through gridlock on their way to an airless, windowless, soulless cubicle for the next 8-10 hours, and then back in the car for Round 2 and on to fight crowds at the grocery, gym, and dry cleaners, etc.

I thank my lucky stars I am not among their ranks and wish this life for them. To live life on one’s own terms. To rise or crash on your clock, not someone else’s. To take a day, week or month off when you say (as long as you can pay your bills). Yeah, I know, you folks still working for The Man don’t really want to hear all this, but hey, if it helps you get to this place quicker… I joke sometimes – but I’m more than half-serious – that while my Well-Fed Writer titles are ostensibly about writing, they’re really about lifestyle. I just happen to do that with writing.

If you’re living the freelance dream, what part of it puts that quiet, contented smile on your face or even makes you downright giddy?