How Associated Content Changed My Life

After several years practicing law in New York City, I'd had enough. Enough of hanging around courthouses, enough of long, hot subway rides between Brooklyn and Queens, enough of chasing down deadbeat clients. In January 2005, I decided to call it quits. I began winding down my lucrative but ultra-stressful law practice and made plans to escape to Hawaii.

By August I was on a plane, heading for the tropics. I had no plan really, other than to write a novel and live modestly, to conserve what money I had, stretch it out to last me a year.

My first stop was Waikiki. I soaked up the sun, enjoyed the nightlife, and wrote my novel at a feverish pace. Sometime in September between beach visits and Mai Tais, I landed in the Hawaii-area writing section on Craigslist. I spotted an advertisement seeking writers for Associated Content.

The ad sought contributors willing to write about local attractions: restaurants, beaches, resorts, tourist sights and such. I checked out the Associated Content website, even signed up. "They're going to pay me to sit on a beach and write about it?" I thought. "Yeah, right. Must be a scam." I slapped the notebook computer shut and went out for a drink.

Four months later, my first novel was written. Two months after that I was fortunate enough to land a highly reputable New York City agent. I was on a roll and having the time of my life.

The only problem was: Money started running out. Fast.

The months started slipping away with no news from my agent. She was shopping my novel to the major New York City publishing houses, and she assured me the editors at such houses often move at glacial speeds. "Hang in there," she told me.

"But I haven't had a Mai Tai in months," I wanted to say. But I kept my lips shut. The summer came and gas prices rose faster than Lindsay Lohan's blood alcohol level at an L.A. club. I parked my Jeep and watched it sit, trying to figure out how I could make money without returning to New York to practice law.