Writers Worth: Readjusting Your Attitude

What's on the iPod: Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke feat. T.I., Pharell

Who knew I'd be working this week? I sure didn't. As it stands, I may have worked the equivalent of three days this month -- until this week. I feel numb, tingly, but bored. That's my sign to get busy again. Not a full schedule yet, but I have two client projects already in progress. I give them three hours a day, then I turn off this machine and rest.

Not long ago, I was participating in a conversation online among a few writers and one thing stood out -- we writers have a real time coming to grips with our attitudes and egos. The prevailing attitude is "I don't want to do that kind of work" or "I'm better than that project."

To which I have to ask: what is better than doing a good job for a client who needs you?

There are projects we won't take. I get it. You'd never catch me writing certain things because I'm opposed morally to them. That's different. The projects I've heard writers whine about not wanting are decent jobs -- white papers, brochures, catalog copy. Really? You don't think you can be creative in those jobs? Then why are you writing exactly?

Maybe we're hung up on visions of impressing people at parties when we say we're writers. Or maybe we think we have all this experience and shouldn't be reduced to taking grunt work or something less sexy. Who knows why, but I've seen writers sabotage their careers time and again because they think the work presented to them doesn't merit their skill and attention.

What nonsense.

Last year, I worked constantly and doubled my income over the previous year. I did it by writing on projects most writers would run from -- catalog descriptions, email sales letters, newsletters, white papers, one-page case studies, and articles about technical subjects that I can bet you've not read (and probably won't ever come across). I wrote in insurance and risk management. Yep. Not exciting to you, but to me, it's fascinating. And it's my bread-and-butter specialty. I charged $125 an hour for projects and $1/word for articles. Every client I worked with, save one, was happy with the results.

Did I just waste my time and talent? No way. I used it to its best advantage.

So there's that project staring you in the face. The client is offering to pay your rate, but the work -- ah, you think you'll be bored out of your mind. So how do you reconcile your need to make a living with your desire to have this sexy, writerly existence?

Find the fun in it. That first workers compensation article I wrote loomed over me like a hanging noose. So I decided I'd get interested and answer the questions I wanted to have answered. That's how you find the fun -- you let your own curiosity lead your questions or lead your research.

Shift the focus to your client. Dare I have to say that it's not all about you? If you change your goal from earning a paycheck and impressing friends at parties to pleasing your client and giving them beyond what they expect, you're now going about it the right way. And you're dropping your ego, which doesn't belong in a business relationship anyway.

Impress them with your lifestyle. I've received just a handful of reactions from clueless people who seem to think I'm not a "real" writer because I'm not publishing novels. A few of them have been enlightened when they hear how well I've done and they see me living a pretty damn good lifestyle on my own dime. That and the smile on your face is all that matters anyway.

Stop caring what others think. Seriously, do you really need anyone else's validation? So what if your dream was to write books and you're writing corporate content instead? The only person who knows that is you. You can still write your books as you're doing other things (diversification is a good thing). That way you can earn as you build that side of your business.

Be impressed by your own accomplishments. I know writers with stellar portfolios who bemoan that one area they can't break into. Just because it's eluded you doesn't mean you're a failure. Au contraire, you've managed to build a solid career despite that. Why aren't you celebrating how great you're doing?

Make your intended goal your new mission. That's not to say you give up on what you want, but what are you really doing to understand that area, including all the ins and outs of the business? Are you making contacts, creating dialogue, researching how to break in? If not, there's an hour in your day that needs to be filled by that activity.

What area is eluding you? How have you had to adjust your attitude when it comes to taking work you may not be thrilled with?

Writers Worth: Your What-the-hell Moment

What's on the iPod: Take Off Your Sunglasses by Ezra Furman & the Harpoons

Here I am, nearly three weeks since surgery, and I'm slowly beginning to feel back to normal. Every day seems a little easier in terms of walking, standing upright (you can't imagine how tight the incision feels), and getting more mobile. I can't lift anything heavier than a milk carton for five more weeks, but as my energy increases, I can sit at the computer and do a little writing.

Today, writing is my purpose.

Actually, Writers Worth is my purpose. Some days it feels like my sole purpose, given the amount of bitching and browbeating I give writers on the topic of value and worth. But hey, someone has to serve as the wake-up call. My turn, I guess.

Reading back through the great guest posts, I noticed a common theme -- we're all trying to get you, the trepidatious writer, to understand and own your value and to move forward toward it. Do you think I don't know that your largest fear is failure? Oh, honey. I do know. I've been there.

When I first started writing professionally (long before admitting to myself and anyone else that that is exactly what I was doing), I was scared. What if I failed? What if I did something wrong and someone chastised me or worse, laughed at me? What if I couldn't get an assignment? That thought was usually followed immediately by its close cousin, dear gawd, what if I do get an assignment? The fears ran deep.

Then it happened. An assignment landed in my lap, almost by accident, for why on earth would anyone hire me? I thought. But I'd proposed an idea to a local magazine and they said yes. For them, it was a short, front-of-the-book article. For me, it was the Holy Grail -- an assignment that paid a decent sum.

Looking back, I see now just how short that article was. I wonder now why it had been so scary facing a mere 800 words. One thing I don't wonder about is how I ever got up the nerve to complete it. I remember it very clearly, for it's something I still do when facing a new area or subject -- I gave it my "What the hell" approach. As in "What the hell -- let me give it a shot. If it doesn't work, oh well."

You have no idea until you let go and have your own what-the-hell moment just how freeing it is. Here are just a few ways letting go like that can free you:

You can now realize that the hard part is already over. Let's face it -- unless your client speaks Klingon and you don't, what you've proposed is pretty much going to be the finished product. Your road map is already written out -- by you. Just follow it.

You can now channel that anxiety into your creative process. Oh, the energy wasted when all you do is worry! Stop it. Just shrug your shoulders, surrender the butterflies, and do what you love doing -- write.

The worst you can do is make a mistake. And that happens to all of us. I wrote an article two years ago for a nursing magazine. It was great -- except that it wasn't what the editor had wanted. She repeated her request, and in two days she had a new article, which satisfied her. Everyone screws up no matter who they are (editors included). Fix it and move on.

It gives you a new form of courage. Try it. Just say "What the hell" to whatever has been hounding you and stressing you lately. What's going to happen? Probably nothing other than you won't be worrying. What the hell -- why not let it go? Why not trust yourself to do what you know damn well you can do?

It's just a starting point. That's right --even your what-the-hell moment is a minor thing. You have to start somewhere -- why not from a relaxed perspective? If you feel yourself getting overwhelmed, you can start again with another WTH moment. Repeat until you finish your project.

What in your career deserves a what-the-hell release? How did/will this help you expand your business or increase your earnings?

Writers Worth: A Dirty Little Secret About Pricing

Today's enlightening guest post comes from Walt Kania, a freelance marketing writer who discovered an eye-opening secret about setting your price.

Pricing is mostly in your head. Treat it that way.

By Walt Kania

I used to think that our fees as writers were pre-ordained by all sorts of fancy economic and accounting factors, like ROI or cost of goods sold, quarterly forecasts, or operating margins and EBITDA. I assumed it was mostly indisputable arithmetic. Or maybe sunspots.

Somehow, I thought that the fee I could get for that case study had something to ‘the struggling economy’ or ‘the credit crisis’ or something to do with Greece. When a client said “I can’t pay more than $600” I figured it was because nine slender spreadsheet geeks upstairs had calculated that their business model would implode if they spent more than $597.06.

Nope. It ain’t that logical.

Fact is, freelance rates (and prices for everything, by the way) are mostly random, arbitrary, irrational, wildly variable and hugely emotional. There are no formulas.

It’s 93% head game, 7% economics.

And that’s in our heads, and our clients’ heads, both. It’s mostly about habit, or convention, or a wild guess, or what someone else said, or what they paid last week. There is no logic or justice to any of it.

I have a long-time client who thought that $150 per hour for copywriting was unconscionable. “No way,” she said, “We can pay only $1250 for these customer articles and no more.” Funny thing is, that works out to about $195 per hour for my time. But she’s happy so I haven’t told her.

One time, I sweated for hours over a price for some marketing pieces that a client would be doing a few times a month. It was a recurring assignment so I didn’t want to be too high and blow it. But not so low that I’d lock myself into a losing deal. I changed the price in the email at least eighteen times trying to get it right. I finally got tired of figuring and retyping. I decided on $1650, sent the email, went to bed.

Next morning I read the email I sent. Yipe. With all the changing and retyping I had somehow screwed up. Instead of quoting 1650, I had typed 2650. A thousand dollars wrong. For the next hour, I panicked, trying to think of a way to recover from this debacle.

In the meantime, of course, the client emails me back. “Okay 2650 is fine. Very reasonable. Let’s go ahead.”

Uh-oh. Do I tell him it was a mistake? Or do I shut up and figure it was karma at work? Perhaps the angels had guided my fingers to the true and noble price, despite my cowardice. Maybe I should just high-five my dumb ass luck.

Turns out, I did none of that. After catching my breath, my first instinct was to worry. “Holy crap. What is he expecting for 2650? How good does he expect them to be? Can I pull this off?  How many rewrites will he want? Maybe the last guy charged 3650. How do I compete with that?”

That is pretty much the same reaction a young photographer had when I told her to raise her rates for those shots she was doing for interior decorators. “Oh my God,” she said. “They will want the world for that.”

She felt safer being cheap.  Way too many of us are like that.

Yes, it works the other way, too. I had been doing long video scripts for this Fortune 500 company, for like $2000 each. Then, after a few bribes, a friend set me up with the video guy at an even bigger-ass Fortune 500 company that did the same kind of videos.  I figured I’d charge them $2,000, too. Or even bump it to $2500.

At the meeting, this fancy video guy says, very proudly, “We normally pay $1200 for these video scripts. I assume that’s okay with you.”  Bigger ass company, lower rates.

Do not look for logic in this. And don’t try to hide behind it, either.

Here’s a trick question.

What’s the difference between a $1200-a-day marketing writer, and a $500-a-day writer?

You’re thinking: skill, portfolio, contacts, network, track record, confidence, who they know, domain knowledge, access to top markets, specialized skill, internet presence, blabbity blabbity.

Nope. Those are all excuses and rationalizations. (Many of which I have used, by the way.)

Here’s the difference.

One day, the $1200-a-day writer -- for whatever reason -- decided that her ‘get out of bed’ fee was $1200 a day.

It’s that simple. That irritatingly simple.

There was no voice from on high, no august body anointed her forehead with oil. There was no certificate of permission.

She just decided.

And that’s all it ever takes.  Ever.

One day, you decide. It has to happen in your head first. Then it happens in the world. Wait for approval, and you will wait forever.

I know, you’re thinking: “That’s unrealistic. My clients would never stand for that. There is too much competition. The economy only supports $200 articles. This is suicide.”

Here’s the thing.

When you’ve decided you’re a 1200-a-day writer, you have your sights set on different folk. It happens automatically.

It has to happen in your head first.

Check out Walt Kania's blog at http://thefreelancery.com

The Long, Strange Trip

What's on the iPod: Got to Give It Up by Marvin Gaye

Home.

So here I sit in my kitchen on what I can only call a Scottish Sunday -- drizzling, all-day rain that pulls the explosion of lush spring greens that much closer to the earth for both sight and touch -- and I marvel at how so many unexpected days away can feel like a rebirth.

To be away from home on vacation would be shocking enough of a re-entry for a body without any added stress, such as surgery and unexpected complications. Alas, mine was the mirror opposite of anyone's description of a vacation.

It started out as expected. I went in for surgery Thursday, May 9th. The liver hemangioma - benign birthmark tumor -- was big and had to come out. How big? Ah, we'll get to that.

Surgery was fine. I woke with a "stern" look, my daughter said -- central line had been inserted, which is a tube run through your nose right into your stomach. I awoke feeling that rawness and obstruction in my throat. Little did I know that would be the least of my worries.

Things progressed well those first two days. Recovery with the aid of an epidural is amazing. I felt like I could kick ass and take names. So on day three I was motoring around my room, IV in tow, and sitting up in a chair feeling like nothing had happened beyond having IVs in my arm and my arse hanging out of an ugly gown.

Too bad all of day three wasn't like that.

I'd been given my first post-surgery "meal" of broth and Jell-O (no one is vegetarian, it seems, on a liquid diet). I ate, but then my stomach around my stitches started to hurt. Not nausea, HURT. It was about 30 minutes later we realized my epidural had come out. Know that kicking ass and taking names? My name was apparently on someone else's list. I was getting kicked royally.

The backup plan went into effect -- morphine intravenously. Thirty minutes in, I'm fine. Not great, just fine. Then the vomiting started.

Won't go into great, disgusting detail, but the intestinal part has to "wake up" after surgery. Mine didn't. Instead, it created a speed bump of sorts that forced all southbound traffic north. That detour lasted all night and into the next day, when I finally succumbed to vomiting exhaustion and agreed to let them put that stomach pumping action back into effect. Despite my stubborn reluctance and the initial discomfort (and ongoing raw throat), I felt instant relief.

From day four through day seven, I was on a new mission -- get the intestines to stop the Rip van Winkle impression and get moving again. No food, just IV fluids and medication intravenously. Meanwhile, my staples -- fifty in all -- were healing while I wasn't noticing. I was becoming more mobile every minute, and I took full advantage of orders to get up and move around as  much as I could.

By Thursday of last week, the had done a few "clamp" tests in which they disconnected the pump and clamped the hoses to see how my stomach would respond. I passed the tests, so the nose tubing all came out at 10:12 am Thursday morning (not that I was keeping track or anything). One more milestone met.

The next milestone was tough. Remember, I'd not eaten anything of any substance since lunch the day before my surgery. So they weren't eager to start me on a regular diet lest my stomach object. So I got my first "meal" of broth and Jell-O Thursday night. I'd love to tell you how satisfying it was to have food again. I can't. That wasn't food. It was glorified water. And I'd have one more of those "meals" before I saw my first solid food -- tilapia and rice -- on Friday night. Thursday and Friday were lessons in patience as I tried to ignore growing, intense hunger pangs.

Nine days after I'd had surgery, they released me from custody. My staples were removed Saturday morning before my discharge, so I have just one follow-up appointment before my life becomes my own sort of normal again.

What about that hemangioma? I mentioned size. It was large -- giant, as the surgeon had labeled it -- and it measured over 20 centimeters, though he's not sure how much bigger as he was rather busy removing it. One thing the surgeon did say -- I lost a cool 15 pounds the minute he removed it. Add that to the weight loss from not eating and I'm down to what I weighed in 2005, which is where I'd been targeting with all this fruitless diet and exercise. No wonder I couldn't lose weight -- I was carrying the weight equivalent of rather hefty newborn twins. It showed. I looked pregnant.

No matter now. I'm healthy. I'm healing. And I'm home.

While all this was happening to me, things were happening elsewhere. The day after my surgery, we lost my mother-in-law. I felt awful not being able to mourn her properly. She was a sweet person, a soulful, fun-loving irreverent trailblazer who did so without broohaha. A woman to be admired and loved. And I did admire and love her. I'll miss her terribly, maybe because the time I knew her was so short.

But here on the blog, things were also happening -- better things. I want to thank profusely my dear friend, Paula Hendrickson, for not just picking up Writers Worth and running so beautifully with it, but for volunteering to do so and really putting her all into it. Paula, I love you. You're good people, and I will return the favor someday. Thank you.

In fact, there are a number of thank-you wishes I'd like to send out -- to Anne Wayman, super chum and partner on the 5 Buck Forum, for picking up the slack caused by my absence there. Your wishes, prayers and vibes were felt, dear friend. To Cathy Miller, for a nice surprise -- my own private MD, waiting for me when I got home (Build-a-Bear bear). So thoughtful! Love you, friend. For Wade Finnegan, who continued to promote my blog and Writers Worth while I was under the influence of some heavy pharmaceuticals. That's why I adore you, Wade. You give without prejudice.

And thank you to all who put together posts for Writers Worth and shared of themselves -- Walt Kania (whose post will appear here tomorrow) and C. Hope Clark, both newcomers to Writers Worth and this blog; Yolander Prinzel, who is an offline inspiration, confidant, and sister; Jenn Mattern, whom I love like family; Cathy Miller, who makes up one corner of the Mattern/Prinzel/Miller/Widmer box of wild, offline conversation; to Kathy Kehrli and Bob Calandra for having my back on projects as I continue to heal; and Paula Hendrickson, whose open nature and infectious spirit graces this blog's conversations daily.

And thank you all who wrote, posted, or sent private wishes, prayers and vibes for my recovery. The power is in the numbers, and you all came out in droves. I'm truly blessed.

Writers Worth: A Different Kind of Proposition

Today's guest post comes from the query free writer herself, Jennifer Mattern.

Writers: What's Your Value Proposition?

By Jennifer Mattern

In an earlier Writer's Worth post, Lori talked about how freelance writers need to accept their own worth in order to charge professional rates for their services. She talked about some of the ways you can realize your worth, such as knowing your competition and visualizing those low-balling clients trying to sell your loved ones on garbage gigs rather than you. Those are excellent ways to accept your worth internally. But there's something else I'd also recommend -- figuring out your value proposition.

You've probably heard terms like "value proposition" and "unique selling proposition (USP)" before in relation to marketing your services to buyers. But your value proposition can also help you realize your own worth first.

What is a Value Proposition?

Think of your value proposition as what you bring to the table.

If you think all you have to offer are articles, blog posts, white papers, or other finished products, you might not understand the full extent of what you really do for your clients -- the reasons they actually hire you. This is why I hear from content mill writers who say they're thrilled to get $15 per article. After all, they're just doing something they love, so they should be happy to get paid at all, right? Wrong.

What You Really Offer Clients

You don't simply offer words on a page. You offer that and so much more. Depending on the type of freelance writing you do, here are some examples of the real value you (and your words) provide:

• Credibility for your client
• An increased customer base
• Marketing, sales, or PR expertise
• Expert advice on your industry or your client's market
• More time and freedom for your client to pursue other lucrative aspects of their business
• And so much more!

Let's look at a more specific example. Say you write sales letters for clients trying to sell software. You don't just bring them text. You bring them increased sales (and therefore more money). You understand testing. You understand conversions. You understand the market. And you understand what makes your clients' customers tick.

You do more than write the actual copy. You're a marketing consultant. You're an advisor. You're the person clients go to because they don't have this kind of expertise themselves. They value your opinions. They want your feedback. Your job isn't just to say "tell me what you want and I'll write it all pretty-like." It's to act in an advisory capacity to help them expand their business through better writing. And you deserve to be paid well for that.

The same is true of any other type of freelance writer.

• Freelance bloggers free their clients up to focus on marketing and monetization while attracting a loyal readership.
• Freelance PR writers bring the expertise to help clients build earned media coverage, build industry recognition, and put out fires.
• Technical writers can take complicated information and weave it into easy-to-understand formats for laymen and industry insiders alike (which many companies struggle to do effectively on their own).  
• Magazine writers are the people who bring readers back every month and convince buyers to become subscribers, building the audience magazines then monetize.
• Even content mill writers offer more than they realize -- the serious ones at least. They bring the mill sites better search engine rankings, more traffic, and therefore more ad dollars. They also lend mills any sense of credibility they might have (which is why content mills have so desperately tried to escape the "shallow content" label over the last year -- they need your credibility to survive).

Think of everything you really bring to the table as a freelance writer. What goals do you help clients reach? How do you help their businesses or organizations thrive? What benefits do they enjoy by hiring you over the competition?

List everything you might use as a selling point when talking to a prospect. And then remind yourself of this value proposition the next time you wonder if you're worth the professional rates you want to charge. I'd bet for many of you, you're worth even more.

--

Jennifer Mattern is a professional blogger, freelance business writer, and e-book author. She owns 3 Beat Media, the company behind blogs like All Freelance Writing and BizAmmo. She plans to launch a new site for freelance writers, indie publishers, and professional bloggers during the summer of 2013 called All Indie Writers.

Writers Worth: Deliver Your Walking Papers

 
Writers Worth: In-house or Out the Door?

Today’s guest post is from the wonderfully insightful Cathy Miller. After you read this, be sure to check out her blogs – links can be found below.

Delivering Your Walking Papers

by Cathy Miller

There comes a time in every writer’s life when you must walk away. Your reason could be an oppressive boss or an escape from corporate life altogether. A client may send you on that solitary stroll. 

The first time seems like the proverbial walk on the plank. It’s scary. You don’t know what’s lurking in the murky water of your writing future. If you believe in your worth, you’ll learn to take that first step and never look back.

First Step

Consider your financial and spiritual health, the yin and yang of your writer’s worth.

A personal goal for me in my corporate life was reaching the magical six-figure salary. Several years after accomplishing that, I was in a miserable place. I tied my worth to a number that had nothing to do with my spiritual well-being.

When I walked away from over 30 years in the corporate world to start my business writing company, I restored my spiritual health. I was doing something I loved and on my terms.

There is nothing wrong with a six-figure salary goal. I made the mistake of ignoring what was important to me – freedom to live my life, my way. So, maybe I’m a bit of a control freak.

Discover what’s important to you and go for it. As adults, we get so hung up on the obstacles, we fail to take that first step. You’ll never reach your destination without your first step – even if it’s a baby step.

I have a favorite saying – okay, I have several. We are writers, after all.

Baby steps still move you forward.

Baby Steps

Have you ever witnessed a baby’s first step? The start may be a little shaky and end with a plop, but the baby looks at cheering adults like, “What’s the big deal?” No matter how many times babies land on their diapered rumps, they always get back up.

Imagine if babies allowed fear to keep them from their first step. Either the kneepad industry would soar from all the crawling adults or we’d have to rely on the few brave souls who learned to walk. If babies can take that first step, don’t you think you can, too?

Lori’s post, Writer’s Worth: Identifying Your Worth, offers practical tips for establishing your monetary worth for your writing. For me, that is the baby’s first step in establishing your worth as a writer.

Focus on your financial worth for planning future steps. Jennifer Mattern of All Freelance Writing offers a great Freelance Hourly Rate Calculator. What I like about it is the calculator considers your financial and spiritual health. No, it is not going to play Kumbaya while you enter your figures, but the calculation does consider your lifestyle needs in terms of the number of days you work, billable hours, and time off for vacation and holidays.

Your needs will be different from my needs. Take an honest assessment of both your financial and personal (spiritual) needs for your situation.

If you are considering freelancing or you are an established writer, review your results and ask the following,

·       Are you at the point when you can successfully launch your writing career?

·       Is it time to raise your fees?

Lori’s next post in the series, Writer’s Worth: Accepting Your Writing Value, is often the bigger hurdle. If you don’t accept your worth, you erect the biggest obstacle to your writing career. If writing is your destination, why compromise on something so vital?

·       If the numbers add up, deliver your walking papers to your employer

·       If your financial situation delays your writing career, consider freelancing part-time and save, save, save for your future launch

·       If a long-time client refuses to accept your new fees, walk away

A baby step starts your journey. Knowing when to walk away signals your worth as a writer. And that’s a wonderful place to be.

When have you found the need to walk away? Is there anything you would have done differently?

================

Cathy has a business writing blog at Simply stated business, a health care blog at Simply stated health care, and her personal bog, millercathy: A Baby Boomer's Second Life.

Writers Worth: Giving it Away?

Still out convalescing.

Today is a real treat. Paula Hendrickson, whose post appeared here Monday, alerted me to the following article, written by C. Hope Clark. I contacted Hope and explained my plight -- my ongoing plight to raise awareness one writer at a time. Hope graciously agreed to let us reprint her original article here. To Hope and all who are fighting the good fight to raise awareness, thank you.



GIVING IT AWAY - NOTHING FOR NOTHING

by C.Hope Clark

I'm going to take a stance here that may rub some of y'all raw.
Quit giving away your work.

It's an old mantra with me . . . one that FundsforWriters was founded upon. You cannot make a living giving yourself away. Doctors don't give away their expertise. Lawyers charge for their services. So do teachers, plumbers . . . even hookers do it.

But you need exposure, you may say. No you don't. Not that kind of exposure. Do you know what you look like when you pitch an editor or agent and the only items on your resume are:
1) Your serial novel on your blog;
2) Your articles on websites that do not pay;
3) Your poetry for free on your website;
4) Your free short stories on anyplace that will take them.

But you keep trying to sell your work and nobody buys it. So you figure you'll post it online and somebody might discover it. Here's the flaw in that logic.

LOGIC A.
The people hungry for your free work usually aren't the type willing to pay. Think about it. They're usually trolling for free work, and continually seek the good deal. They have no desire to pay full price
for a book or subscription, maybe not even one copy of a magazine where your work appears, because there's ample free material available.

LOGIC B.
Editors and agents do not visit those freebie places. Not unless you happen to be that one in a million writer who trends on Twitter or manages to garner tens of thousands of readers. Not hundreds...thousands. Your odds are better pitching to editors.

LOGIC C.
If you are publishing for free because you keep getting rejected, then your writing might need work. People willing to pay for writing expect  to receive a good return for their investment, so your work has to be
refined and polished to rate their hard-earned dollar.

LOGIC D.
If you are publishing for free because you don't want to learn the  ropes of how to submit to publishers and markets that pay, you might not be made of strong enough material to weather this business.
Argue with me. Go ahead. Then tell me how much money you've made from that "exposure." I'm all ears. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings. On the contrary. I want you to make a buck at this business. But too many writers think that giving their work away is "exposure" or a means to "getting discovered" when in reality,
they usually end up sitting in place and waiting for nothing...and doing it for a long time.

It's understandable you need to be proactive, but put that energy to good use in the right direction.
1) Improve your writing
2) Sell your work
3) Promote yourself.

You don't want to appear so desperate you give it away. In all aspects of your life, how much quality do you attribute to something that was given to you for free?

Hope

C. Hope Clark is a freelance writing expert and author of the Carolina Slade Mystery Series. Hope lives on the bank of Lake Murray near Chapin, SC, where she not only pens mysteries, but also manages FundsforWriters.com, a weekly newsletter service she founded that reaches 35,000+ writers to include university professors, professional journalists and published mystery authors. Writer’s Digest has recognized the site in its annual 101 Best Web Sites for Writers for a dozen years. She blogs at C. Hope Clark.