A few weeks ago, in my professional context, I was contacted by a publishing company for a “paid writing opportunity.” The contact was random, the email imprecise, though a little digging indicated they were likely approaching me for a self-help style book. When I talked to the acquisitions editor, it was clear that the person did not know my psychotherapy specialties and likely had not looked at my website or professional blog, though someone from the company had done some sleuthing to find me in the first place. I rejected a few topics that were out of my scope of competence, finally choosing something of relative interest from an extensive list. One signed nondisclosure agreement later, I approved a very detailed outline. I just about had the writing sample in the bag when I heard back from the acquisitions editor. Someone had beaten me to the completed sample and had been chosen to write the book. They would contact me (perhaps) in the future for another topic.

This was a disappointment. It was also a relief, given the time to complete the ~200 page book was sixty days from the signing of the contract, two months that would overlap with the boy’s summer vacation and free time in perhaps one of the last summers he’ll be just hanging out. Even the process of completing the writing sample got in the way of family time, coming with my mother’s first visit in a year and a half. The topic didn’t set me on fire and the publishing company churns out material, so this offer was mixed. High art, or even low art, it was not. And I would have to enlist the support of my professional and personal community to generate some sort of buzz.

However, it would have been the first time I have really been paid for writing. It would have given me the experience of writing a book and the impetus to do so. Based on what I did for the writing sample, I have the capacity to write such a book. However, I have no idea what people are interested in reading and lack the confidence and internal motivation to complete a large-scale project. Meanwhile, I’m left with a fairly specific sample that includes multiple sections. Perhaps I can adapt it for my professional blog, but I’m not interested enough at this point to do the crafting. I’d much rather write about anxiety and it ties to our families or something that feels personal and universal all at once.

Anyway. I write it out here because I can’t share it elsewhere. And maybe they will be in touch again and I’ll get the contract and have something out there published under my name, circulating in the world. But the experience was so random and over so quickly that I wonder if it will be repeated—and whether there are other ways to incorporate serious writing into my life. After all, they found me after I revamped my professional blog. What would it be like to really focus on writing what I am interested in and finding an audience that way?