5 Myths of Freelance Writing

As more newspapers circle the drain and shed thousands of jobs, I'm not exactly surprised that friends and family ask me in a timid, concerned voice, "Are you OK?" I'm not even shocked when the more bold and (okay -- rude) say, "Aren't you worried that all these laid off journalists are going to take your freelance work?"

Er, no.

So I'm going to take a brief shore break to clear up some misconceptions about what it is that I do in the form of five myths about freelance writing.

Keep in mind that this is told from my freelance life. In January I'll have been doing this for four years to somewhat financial success (I did buy a house -- not a big one -- but still, a house though I still don't have cable). Someone who's been doing this for a month and someone who's been doing this for 10 years may disagree.

I'm also not writing this to discourage people from giving freelance writing a go. I welcome them to it. It's a fun job, and I regularly give advice on how to make a go of it -- or at least steer people in the right direction. But I want anyone considering it as a job to go into it with eyes wide open. Just like I would be terrible as a breaking news reporter, not every reporter will want to freelance.

I've been working on this post for a week, hoping that it doesn't sound to harsh and that I get the tone just right. If I didn't, I apologize in advance.

In any case, here goes:

5. It's easy!
I call this work for a reason. I cringe when people tell me they want to write when they retire (I'm tempted to reply that I'll pick up surgery when I retire). I've been writing every day since I was 18 to make it look this easy. Plus, freelancing is as much about finding work as it is actually writing -- if you want to make money doing it. I don't have a spouse, rich uncle or sugar daddy who funnels money into my bank account so I can keep at this "hobby." This isn't a hobby. This is my job. Every penny I earn comes from this. Also, for the record, I do not work in my pajamas, and I do not sleep until noon (I was enraged for a week when the Philadelphia Inquirer ran a flimsy piece by a new freelancer about how easy freelancing is, accompanied by a photo of a woman typing in her PJs and bunny slippers -- with a caveat at the very end that the writer wasn't making a lot of money doing what she did. Of course not! She wasn't working!) Yes, I work out before lunch, but I'm at my desk at 7:30 am and usually there long past five plus work on weekends. It is not a job with a flexible schedule (and, no, I can't drive you to the airport, walk your dog, or wait for your repairman because, like you, I have to work). This is not a job for the lazy. It's not even a job for the pull yourself up by your bootstraps type. It's a job for the person who makes her own boots.

4. It's all about the writing.
Freelancing writing is a business, and you need business know how to make this work. I spend 30 percent of my time writing. The rest is dedicated to pitching articles, revising, meeting with clients (yes, I call them clients because I am providing them a business service), networking and invoicing. I'll get to chasing money in a minute.

3. You must start at the bottom.
I started freelancing part time when I was 21 and full time when I was 23. I had a national assignment right out of the gate. My motto has always been "the worst they can say is no." I've pitched things I probably shouldn't have pitched -- a feature to Woman's Day, a column to Allure -- and gotten them, even if my background says I shouldn't have. If you hold back as a freelancer, you're never going to get to that next step.

2. We're hurt by this economy.
This could go either way. It's hard to tell how many jobs I could have had if not for tough times. But I'm already in the trenches and people now come to me with assignments -- I've built up enough clients and work over the last four years that magazines and universities know me and will sometimes call me with work (or remember I'm here with a gentle nudge). Don't throw rocks at me, but I haven't been this busy since spring 2007. I place my writing in different fields, so whatever hit I'm taking is softened or even countered by businesses that are growing (e.g. healthcare and education). It's a business tactic -- diversifying my work so that I can continue ahead if a client cuts back or goes under. And I can't get laid off if I'm my own boss.

1. You must be poor/you must be rich.
Two opposite sides of the scale, but I get both. Even though I'm six years out of college, I still get that "wow, you can't do much with an English degree" attitude. Yes, writing can pay if you do it right. On the same note, some folks hear what I make per word in an article, or what I charge as my per hour rate and think I must be rolling in the dough. But freelancers shoulder the responsibility for so many more costs -- everything from office supplies to health insurance, not to mention having to set up our own retirements savings accounts and the fact that if we get hurt/sick/suffer writer's block, there isn't still a check coming to us every Friday. Oh, and then there's that pesky matter about folks not liking to pay us on time. At least once I month I have to bring out the "give me my money" stick. Could you live knowing that someone held your check (and mortgage payment) for a month for no reason? That an editor lied about why you haven't been paid on time? That your payment is held up because, even the editor has revised your piece, it hasn't been 'approved' yet (I've had checks held for nine months because of this)? That you won't get paid on time because someone lost your invoice? That a magazine will pay you half your fee because they assigned too many articles that month and, even though your work is stellar, they have no room for it? Could you deal with having to completely re-write something for no additional fee because a senior editor changed his mind? That, readers, is the ugly and frustrating side to freelancing.

What I'm trying to say is that you can't just put out your "I'm a freelancer" banner and expect work to fall into your lap. It takes time to get going in this job (and even longer for checks to start coming in on a regular basis), and it's hard work to make it a viable small business. Even at four years in, I still feel like I'm working my tail off to keep this going.

But I absolutely love it (except for the late payment part). I love it for more than just the writing -- I love chasing down assignments, securing new gigs and jumping into a new project. I like finding work that interests me instead of someone else telling me what to do. I like that push at my back to keep going, to do better.

I like knowing that, while I might write for 20 different clients, the only boss I have is me. My father has always said that the unknown about my work would keep him up at night. Sometimes it does. But the possibility of getting laid off would, too.

I'll get back to the shore tomorrow. There is, after all, a Running of the Santas on Saturday. And who wouldn't want to write about that?