I write. It's what I do. I'm good at it, I enjoy it, and it's my go-to self-therapy. I keep a personal blog, a work-safe version of that personal blog, and I spend a fair bit of my social media time writing. I play with tropes and I write fan-fiction. I teach my children about etymology and literary devices and whether cops-in-donut-shops is a stereotype. I talk about writing (and reading, and editing, and grammar, and the Oxford Comma) with my friends. I write for SEO companies, but at a few cents a word, that's generally enough for my Seattleite Coffee Snob self to have a daily latte (non-dairy, one pump of whatever the flavor of the day is... as long as it's not macadamia or white chocolate, because bleah).
So yeah, I write. In these situations, I write colloquially, but I'm certainly capable of using whatever style guide you like or need me to use. I can proofread and edit, too. I have a Bachelor of Science in Intercultural Communications, an open mind, and the ability to work with people (the last few months of my time at AT&T was an aberration; I was not in a good mental place to work in a customer-facing position immediately following the death of my husband). And I don't want to work retail or call center or hospitality hours anymore; I'm a widowed mom of two and I want to work when they're in school as much as possible.
It's really that simple. A position where I can write, during standard business hours; that's all I'm really asking for here. How hard can that be?
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