Is there such a creature? I would like with all my heart to believe that there is despite marketplace evidence to the contrary. And I’m not talking only about writing fiction. I mean all writing for profit.

Pause for hysterical laughter and myriad variations on “She expects to make money writing fiction?!” Call me a cock-eyed optimist, a slow learner, or a fool, but . . . well, yeah. Eventually. I’ve published six novels so far. And I’ll keep on writing. I know I’ll turn a profit if I’m versatile, persistent, lucky, and smart.

No one among my family and friends thought I could make money working as a freelance business writer, but I have. Right now it’s not easy. Too many clients who contracted with me because they couldn’t afford a writer on staff can no longer afford a writer on contract.

Example: one small but successful ad agency hasn’t had an in-house writer since the last one got mad and quit following a salary dispute in 2005. The president of the company believed that her marketing staff could fill the gap. That worked for a few months until clients threatened to bolt because of the poor quality of the writing. Then the prez hired a couple freelancers but wasn’t willing to pay much. Now she’s not willing to pay anything. Maybe she’s the cock-eyed optimist, hoping against hope that this time her clients won’t notice how bad the writing is.

When the money gets tight, the writer gets cut.

Or so it seems. However, the recent Writers Guild strike suggests that we as a profession have more power than we realize. Of course, it’s next to impossible to formally organize as business writers let alone as novelists, and the WGA’s stunning strike impact was all about unity. Few TV viewers today—in other words, few people anywhere—missed the lesson that no writers means no new material and hence nothing good in the way of entertainment.

So I’m back to the “versatility” element in my success equation. If I can write enough different kinds of material—including fiction for various audiences—and to that mix I add persistence, luck, and smarts, I believe I can afford to keep writing. Somebody will want, or maybe even need, my stuff.

Example: a marketing executive recently asked if I had experience writing slogans and jingles. Of course I said yes. I used to be a professional actor; I can lie convincingly. As a result, I got the “audition” and then I got the part—I mean, the freelance gig. In the process I increased both my versatility and my income.

The more I can do, the more I’m likely to be hired to do. That’s why I write fiction for teens as well as adults. In fact, I’m writing two novels right now, one for each market. Will either of them make me money? I surely hope so. But if not, I know I will keep writing fiction, and I believe I will make money at it.

It’s the same principle I apply to my corporate writing: I produce what’s in demand. Ergo, I make myself recession-proof.