A long time ago, as a high school sophomore, I wrote a short story that won the boys’ division of a contest sponsored by a local literary club. I relished the brief in-school recognition, but more lasting was the realization that I’d been paid for my writing! Aided and encouraged by teachers such as Louise Miller and Flora Lutz, a spark of ambition was created.

By the time World War II ended, I was message-center chief of an ordnance battalion, and my duties included writing a daily bulletin and other happenings of the ammunition and high explosives unit. In the back of my mind, I thought about writing fiction as a “someday, sometime” endeavor.

After military service, I wrote school sports and outdoor activity for a local weekly paper. It was not a great deal of money but it would be valuable experience down the road. I became a sports correspondent for the Portland Sunday Telegram and therein I wrote a column, Penquis Sports Notes, for more than seven years. During that period, I was offered a full-time job with the newspaper. But I decided to remain with postal management and optimistic free-lance writing.

In the early ’50s, I received notice of a short-story acceptance from a popular men’s magazine. There was no mention of money, but the publisher was well regarded and paid well. I reasoned that payment would be forthcoming. I was well aware of New York editors and free-lance writers. After a few weeks with nothing further, I requested the National Writers Club to make an inquiry. Still more time passed until the NWC advised me that they had no response from either the initial request or a follow-up. I wrote it off as a bad experience, which often happens in the chancy world of free-lance. During the glow of early summer, though, I received a very good check from the short-story sale. There was no indication where it was published and there was no author’s copy. The story, by the way, was a wartime piece based rather loosely on something that occurred while I was a member of the Third Infantry Division. There are millions of stories from WWII, but that was the only one I wrote.

The Waterville Morning Sentinel started a magazine, MainSay, devoted to interesting people in the state, and I was fortunate to write for it under editor Anne McGowan. I also took pictures to illustrate my work. If my photos were not what the paper wanted, they assigned a staff photographer to work with me. Photography was not my strong suit.

Topics to write about are endless. First-person fiction establishes mood and sets the pace. Writing humor is more difficult and the result quite often falls on its face when printed.

Free-lance writing is frustrating and fraught with rejection. Some writers take it to a ridiculous point by saving all their rejection slips and editorial comments. I didn’t do that, but I often thought that my rejection file would be outstanding. Part of writing in any genre is the acceptance of no sale too many times.

Every fledgling writer has a novel hiding in the word processor, and I committed myself to a long outline in that direction. The outline gathered dust because other writing, and its up-and-down success, took most of my free time. I did finally take the theme of the manuscript’s final chapter and create a short story. “Goodbye Cilly” was published by Colin Sargent at Portland Magazine. Another segment of the outline was later published by Vermont Magazine.

The Internet is a great boon to the free-lance writer. Specific market information is found here along with special needs of the publisher, editorial needs such as word limits, amount paid and taboos, and how the market’s slant affects reception of the writer’s work. A newspaper’s slant obligates the writer to write in line with the paper’s attitude and belief in certain political and social issues.

The wide base of free-lance writing tempts many and crushes ambition, yet it’s a constant challenge.