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Many moons ago, I was a young writer trying to make myself fit into a normal life. I juggled multiple part-time jobs for not much money, looking anywhere I could for creative opportunities. It wasn’t all bad — I lived in a nice apartment and had a big support network — but what I loved more than anything was travel, and counting down to one precious week of vacation a year didn’t feel like enough.

 

I knew that as a writer, I had what it took to work remotely. So when I got fed up with the part-time balancing act, I embraced the freelancer life and hit the road for an entire year.