I just realized the other day that I’ve been in business for myself – freelancing – for almost seven years now. Funny how time flies when you’re busy.
And it’s amazing the lessons you learn as you go. As I cruised some weblogs last week, I realized there’s some reaaaaallly bad advice circulating out there, much of it surrounding content mills. Too many glowing reports of how fabulous it is to make $5 or $10 always makes me suspicious. Are these people telling the truth, kidding themselves, or being paid to tell us that particular version of “truth”? There are other yucky things on blogs – everything from “Hey! You can make five cents a word! Isn’t that great?” to “Residual income is the BEST way to make extra money!” To which I say, yea. Right.
But there are some things I’d like to clear up. These points are based on personal experience, not on a rehashing of someone else’s idea of what writers and writing are all about.
Residual income is just that – residual. Think in terms of sludge. Know that muck that’s left after you drain your hot tub? Yea, that. Residual income can be that unsightly. I put up Google AdSense here (yes, it’s here) in 2007. My total income from it in that time? $6.19. Quite a haul, isn’t it? Mind you, I chose to keep ads small and unobtrusive. Nothing bugs me more than going to a site so littered with ads you can’t find the content. For that reason, the two little ads I have here are probably all you’ll see. Maybe I just don’t know how to play the residual income game, but then again, my focus is on content. And residual income does mean more than just ad income, but if it means I have to write a 2,000-word article in hopes of posting it somewhere and earning $20, I’m not interested.
After a year of mucking it out, you should be making more than ten cents a word. Let me rephrase that – if you’ve sold a few articles to credible sources and you’ve got some clips to show your talent, you’re ready to ask for more money. Don’t stay in a long-term situation making less than you’re worth. It’s okay to move on. If you like the clients and the work is easy, sure. Keep doing it. But you should also be looking higher up the food chain. Also, you should know when to walk away from that lower-paying job. If it gets in the way of you earning more money, cut the ties.
No matter how bad your math is, content mill work will always pay less than selling an article on your own. If you cannot add $10 times anything and realize how much harder you’re working for it, you’re either paid to stump for the company or you’re deluding yourself. I’ve seen people claiming to make $40K or $50K, even over $100K a year doing this. My question – why? It stands to reason that turning out more product means more work. Why not pitch a story idea you’re interested in and get paid a LOT more to write it? If you’re about to argue how clueless I am, save your breath. My reality is a lot easier to maintain than the one you’re trying to sell.
Clients who start out dictating your fees to you are going to control your work process, and they’re going to hate any feedback. One dude I worked with early in my career said, “You need to be writing all this down.” Imagine my surprise, because what he was telling me was what he’d learned from other people’s books. Turns out that’s what he wanted to write – everyone else’s ideas. He controlled everything, which made it impossible for me to give him the product he wanted. In the end, you guessed it, he hated it and we parted ways in a rather unfriendly fashion.
Working without a contract is like breathing without oxygen. You’ll never value the contract you sign until some fool tries to screw you over. I’ve had a number of contracts save my fee – literally. One dude had forgotten he’d signed it and started to lower my fees arbitrarily. Another decided he’d much rather have his friends help him after all. In both cases, my fee was saved thanks to that piece of paper I’d insisted on.
Lowered priced clients beget lower priced clients. They like you because you’re good AND cheap. They’ll tell their friends and colleagues the same thing. Price higher and you’ll be surprised how the debating of your fee decreases and the nickel-and-diming becomes rare. That’s because clients willing to pay more understand that good writing isn’t cheap.
What lessons have you learned the hard way?
The #1 lesson I've learned over the years: When you see anyone telling you what does or doesn't "work," don't accept it as The Truth.
There are many ways to make GOOD money and what works for me, you or anyone else may not be applicable to everyone's situation.
Consider this post. I'm sure that every recommendation you've made is 100% true–for you. I know for a fact that some of them aren't true for me.
I don't want to go through some line by line argument about the exceptions to your recommendations or how certain strategies that you write off can be productive when used in a different context. That's not my point…
There is a lot of advice floating around there. Some of it is flat-out stupid. Some of it is great. All of it, however, stems from a series of assumptions and biases on the part of the provider. Those looking for advice need to consider to look at those just as carefully as they need to read to advice.
The lesson I've learned the hard way – you didn't get the project until final instructions arrive in your e-mail.
I can't count the number of times someone has e-mailed me and asks if I'm available for an upcoming project. Then, it falls through or I simply never hear from them again. I used to block off time to complete a project once I received those initial e-mails, but not anymore.
For a while I thought I was doing something the turn them off, but based on what I've read from other writers, it's just part of the job.
Carson, as I prefaced this post – "These points are based on personal experience, not a rehashing of someone else's idea of what writers and writing are all about." On that point I'm quite clear. This is my personal experience. The point of this entire post is to inspire others to aim higher.
Krista, it's fairly common here, too. I give a two-week window of availability now. I don't wait, either.
Krista, I've learned that same lesson. It's a tough one considering how valuable a freelancer's time is.
#4 is another good one: "Clients who start out dictating your fees to you are going to control your work process, and they're going to hate any feedback." I fell for this a few times when I was first starting out. I've learned to have more confidence in my skills and the rates I charge.
Places offering up the idea of oh-so-great residual income instead of payment: Residuals are meant to be payments on top of your original fee, not in place of it.
It is interesting to consider that even the lowest-paying articles I've ever written still paid more than 20-times the average mill rates. And those pieces were written 15-20 years ago.
The promise of great riches in the future. You know it goes – "Our website will take off soon and give us more traffic then we'll know what to do with. We'll pay you more at that time. Oh, and you can expect great exposure when the site takes off!"
I'm still wondering what in the heck I was thinking.
Wendy, I think we've all fallen for that at least once. 🙂 It's that they want us to buy into their dream. But in order to do that, they need to pay us for it. I still don't understand how some folks don't understand that.
Paula, I think the least I made was while I worked my first job at the newspaper. Back then I was getting $35 an article. That was 1989 and I was STILL making more than the content farms are paying now.
Woo-hoo! I think I was getting $50/article from a local paper around 1990! I remember getting the first check and thinking, "Wow! They PAID me to write something!" And about a year later, thinking, "They don't pay me enough to keep writing for them" and moving on.
I agree with all of your advice 100% … as usual. ;0) The lesson I've learned the hard way is to walk away from a client/project at the first clear signs of trouble (i.e., trust your instincts). I've never regretted severing ties, but I have regretted not.
Paula, you were paid well back then! 🙂 I know. Remember when that used to sound like huge money? No? Neither do I – I never thought I was paid well because I wasn't. 🙂 But it was a credible source and I don't regret the time spent there.
Kathy, I'm finding the more time into this career I get, the faster I can spot the "walking away point." I don't think I've had one regret yet. We have that in common, too. 🙂