Maybe I’m just getting old, but life as a freelance copywriter, for me anyway, is getting angstier than ever.
For many people, a spot of copywriting probably seems like the perfect gig. If you go the freelance route, then there’s no boss to answer to, no commuting costs, and you can pick and choose where and when you work. But let me tell you, it’s not all frothy coffees and mid-morning yoga breaks.
Now, I’m not the slightest bit interested in yoga, but I do love a swim. The pace of my freestyle, over very short distances, is devastating. Just ask the suckers at the South Wales Under-10s Cub Scout Swimming Gala. Some of them are probably only finishing their lengths now, and I’m 42.
But let me tell you how many times I’ve been swimming on a weekday in 12 years as a freelance copywriter…
Just 32.
It’s zero. Honestly, I was just joking. It’s none.
Cry me a river
If you’ve been daft enough to choose to read this article and progress this far, then I know what you’re thinking.
“Cry me a damn river, I don’t get to go swimming during the working day either.”
And no, unless you’re a lifeguard and your pool is privy to a lot of poor swimmers, you probably don’t. But what you do get, probably, is job security, some paid annual leave and an actual pension.
The feast or famine cycle
I’ve been incredibly fortunate in my 12 years as a freelance copywriter. I’ve rarely had more than a day or two without paid work. But, without wanting to sound too ungrateful, that brings its own problems.
I’m constantly worried that if I don’t give clients quick turnaround times, they’ll simply go elsewhere. And they do. I have lost valuable agency clients because I cannot turn their orders around in less than three or four weeks. I don’t begrudge them that. I’d do the same thing, but it does apply pressure.
The other issue with being so busy is that you don’t have time to market yourself, whether it’s writing the occasional blog (ahem) or applying for new projects.
Something I’ve learned over the years is that no one needs content forever. Even if you write for a client for four or five years, there will come a time when their budgets, personnel and priorities change. And when those clients drop off, if you haven’t been keeping up with the marketing, you’re pretty much back to square one.
Every couple of years or so, when I do have a period when my days are not jam-packed with paid content writing, that’s when the wheels really fall off.
I can’t help but catastrophise the situation.
“AI has stolen my job!”
“People just don’t want (high-quality and very affordable) content anymore!”
But all that’s really happened is that I haven’t done any outreach, and I hate doing it so much that it sends me a bit mad. Am I feeble-minded? Extremely. But this is my reality as a freelance copywriter.
So, what’s next?
At the moment, it’s more of the same, because that’s what I’ve signed up for. In the good times, when you have just enough work – not too much and not too little – I wonder whether I might be the luckiest man on earth.
At some point, the perennial angst of a freelance copywriter may become too much. And then, I’ll make a change, and quickly find that the perennial angst of a freelance copywriter is nothing compared to the perennial angst of doing just about anything else.
But until then, I’ll stick with what I know: constant, low-level panic, zero midday swimming and the vague sense that it could probably all be a lot worse.
Photo by M.T ElGassier on Unsplash