Writing Small

I've never had a problem with writing small.  In fact, I'll write most anything . . . even if the pay is miniscule and the exposure slim.  I have a depression-era mentality and a mind that works as follows:





Me to my wife:  "I just finished writing an article on ice-fishing safety."
Becky:  "But you don't fish.  You aren't safe to live with."
Me:  "The editor says he'll pay."
Becky:  "How much?"
Me:  "Thirty dollars for a thousand words."
Becky:  "But how long will it take you to write that?"
Me:  "Just a few minutes.  What's a thousand words?"
Becky:  "Is it worth your time?"
Me:  "Thirty bucks . . . that's a meal, a half tank of gas, two bags of Starbucks coffee, a nice bottle of wine."
Becky:  "I've never looked at it that way."
Me:  "Well, look at it that way!  Next week I'm writing a piece about fleas."
Becky:  "But you don't know anything about fleas.  You haven't had fleas for years."
Me:  "No, but I've had ticks.  I could write an article about that.  You know, how to attract ticks, how to feed them, how to fatten 'em up.  There's gotta be money in that.  At least thirty dollars."

Small stuff.  I like those assignments.  And since few writers will take them, I say the more the merrier.  Like gnats. 

I love the idea of an infestation.