After much complaining, e-mailing, arm-twisting, and whining, three payments finally arrived, making my day a little bit brighter, my bank account a little less intimidating.

In all the years that I’ve been freelancing, this is one thing I’ve found to be the most true: no matter how you time your assignments, your publications, your payments, there will be several weeks, even months, when you go without seeing a paycheck. And then they’ll all arrive at once, turning you from pauper to princess all in the matter of twenty-four hours.

It’s like winning the lottery. Except that by the time you’ve won it, the bills are piled so high, it only lasts a few hours, if that.

Every time a writer e-mails me about advice on freelancing, I want to hold his or her hand, and ask, “Do you like Maggi/Ramen noodles? Do you know that chopped veggies can make it healthier? How much will you cry if you’re owed thousands of dollars but only have about ten in your bank account?”

The answers to those questions are really what make you a freelance journalist. Writing well is just a bonus.