Writers needed

Hi! Your ad really interests me. I'm new to the freelance writing market, so I'm willing to write for a little less compensation than someone with a lot of experience. My credentials, however, are very good: I've had five years of experience tutoring in high-school, college preparatory English, and one year of copyediting for my college magazine. Here's a sample of my work: Katharine N. Thorpe Sonnet Drive Tallahassee, FL May 11, 2010 Divorce When I was fourteen, my parents divorced. This is something that is so common, it hardly seems appropriate to dwell at length on the suffering it causes. Lots of kids have been through divorce. Lots of kids have broken a bone. It's painful. You get over it. Or do you? I have heard that a broken family is one of the few things that Time cannot heal, and I'm beginning to believe it. No, I don't pine for my father every day, or feel sorry for myself and my siblings, or wish for some miracle to get my parents back together. I have, in a sense, moved on. I'll just say this. I'm twenty-five years old now, married, with a baby, but I'm not over the pain. Today, again, I miss my dad. I wish he were in my life more-- it seems like I only see him three or four times a year, even though we live in the same state. Email hasn't really been the answer I had hoped for. Maybe he's just not that interested. When my mind starts again on this old familiar track, it's like a part of me is fourteen again, going through the uncertainty, guilt, fear, and rejection. My adult self is like a ghost watching it all, wishing I could convince the younger me that it is going to be okay, but unable to. You see, shortly after the divorce, while we were recovering from the shock and adjusting to life in a new town, various relatives and friends worked hard to reassure me, my brother, and sister that our parents still loved us as much as they ever had. It was like a safety net. Even though life had fallen apart, we were still safe in our parents' love. It wasn't long before my safety net was brutally torn apart by an older relative, who I think must also have been in a state of shock. “Your father doesn't love any of you. If he did, he wouldn't have left.” As I write this, I can hear the angry voices in the audience execrating any person who could say such a thing to a vulnerable fourteen-year-old girl, and I understand. I can imagine the soothing, reasonable voices of counselors, telling me that other circumstances complicate the issue. But to this day, when I think about that statement, I can't form a satisfactory rebuttal. He really did leave. He really could have stayed. He could be a big part of my life even now, but he isn't. And I miss him.

Greetings! I am a student journalist who is looking for an experience in this field.I can write 1 article per hour containing 400-1000 words. I have been trained in writing news,feature and editorial articles.I hope you could give me a chance to expand my talents.

Dear Sir, I beg most respectfully to state that, I am very experience for do this job. I am already complete couple of project. I can do this job properly and quickly. So I request you sir please give me this project and give me opportunity to prove myself. Thank you.