I help people.
It’s not because I’m a nice guy. It’s because I can’t stand an unsolved problem that I can solve.
In my Facebook author group, if there’s a question I can answer, I answer it. If I know the answer and it will help someone, why not?
If someone is recommended to me and needs a quick question answered, I answer it.
If someone wants to know if a freelancer or publisher I work with is legit, I tell them.
I don’t do everything for free. No I will not read your 90,000 word manuscript and let you know what I think — for free. No, I will not volunteer for your nonprofit that I never heard of — for free. Those requests are work. And I get paid for work.
But whenever possible, if I know an answer I share it.
And if it seems interesting, it becomes one of the 2,000 blog posts here on this blog.
I didn’t do this for quid-pro-quo reasons. I help people because I like it and it makes me feel good. And because it occasionally turns into paid work, but mostly because it makes me feel good.
My gosh. The response has been overwhelming. I’m bowled over.
A bunch of people I know . . . not well, but at least a little bit . . . are cheering me on and asking how they can help.
I’m not going to be shy about taking advantage of it.
They say if you do the right thing, you’ll be rewarded in the next life.
I don’t know about that, but I’m quite happy enough with the rewards I’m getting in the life I’m already living.