Chameleon Magazine

After following every step to become a successful full-time writer, I found myself broke, confused, and emotionally attached to my spreadsheet. Here’s what went wrong—and why it was kind of beautiful.

How I Failed After Reading “7 Steps to Become a Paid Writer”

A Cautionary Tale of Hope, Despair, and Gluten-Free Snacks

When I first read Maria Cassano’s article on becoming a successful, well-paid, full-time writer, I felt a rush of purpose. This was it. My ticket to writing glory.

I followed every step with the intensity of someone trying to escape a cult—or join one. I built a website, picked a niche, pitched like my self-worth depended on it (spoiler: it did), and waited for the universe to send me clients, cash, and compliments.

Instead, the universe sent me spam emails about crypto.

Here’s where it all went sideways.

Step 1: Build an Impressive Website

My Version: Free Wix site titled “Words & Whimsy” with one broken link and a homepage that plays music nobody asked for.

Traffic: 2 visits. One was me. The other was a bot trying to sell me followers.

Step 2: Pick a Niche That Pays

My Version: Picked five. Including “AI ethics,” “pet eulogies,” and “crocheted horror stories.”

Result: My brand identity had an identity crisis.

Step 3: Build a Portfolio Without Waiting for Permission

My Version: Wrote three Medium posts, got one clap (thanks, Mum), deleted them, cried, and Googled “how to recover deleted dignity.”

Step 4: Pitch Like Your Life Depends on It

My Version: Sent one pitch titled “Can I Write For You?” Got ghosted so hard it showed up on a paranormal activity podcast.

Step 5: Keep a Spreadsheet of Pitches

My Version: Made a color-coded Excel doc I never opened again. It triggers flashbacks to “Microsoft Excel for Beginners” trauma.

Step 6: Keep a Spreadsheet of Income

My Version: It’s blank. But I formatted it beautifully. Income: $0. Pride: -$34.

Step 7: Be Easy to Work With

My Version: Misread as “Be emotionally fragile.”

I over-apologized in every email and once sent a client a GIF of a sad raccoon as a reply to constructive feedback.

So, Did I Fail?

Yes.

But also, kind of… no?

I’ve learned things. Like how to laugh at myself. And that persistence counts, even when it comes with a side of self-loathing. I even learned to turn my breakdown into content. That’s called pivoting, right?

I’m not rich. I’m not famous. But I have a voice, a blog, and a very supportive cat.

Moral of the Story:

If you’re going to fail, at least make it hilarious.

And always, always keep the spreadsheet.