One of my greatest moments as a freelancer was during the Radical Self-Expression Summit and hearing one of my writer idols, Denene Millner, explain that she’s still a freelance writer. I thought about it and it was true. I just hadn’t linked her with the term because she’s written books for Steve Harvey, Charlie Wilson, Nene Leakes, and many others.
That realization made me question my thoughts and feelings (and actions) around what it meant to freelance.
In summary, I shortchanged it. I associated it with poor man’s work. It was something that I did when my clientele was down or when agreeing to write for exposure. Either way, I was either not being paid or not being paid much at all. But who’s fault was that? No one but my own.
Recently, I’ve gone back to the jungle to find some freelance work. This time, however, I refuse to shortchange myself. I refuse to work for anything less than what I deserve. Two reasons:
1. The shit doesn’t feel good.
I took a job earlier this year ghostwriting a book that I had no business doing. For one, the subject matter was of zero interest to me. For two, the pay was totally unreasonable. For three, I was acting out of desperation (which rarely, if ever, produces anything good). It was extremely stressful. The client was never happy with anything that I did. The job went beyond the agreed date and I had to seek mediation to get my money. Ridiculous…
2. I don’t want to continue fucking it up for freelancers down the road.
Goes back to that old saying, “Why buy the cow if you can get the milk for free?” One of my favorite hashtags is #WritersUnite. One thing that we must absolutely stand together on is refusing to work for nothing. A barter? Okay. Nothing? No. It’s not happening. Neither are we working for next to nothing. It has to add up. If you’re a freelancer, then consider how long it takes you to research and write and edit your articles/books, then charge accordingly. Otherwise, you’re setting yourself up to hate the writer’s life.
Even more, read the freaking terms and conditions. If you don’t understand or agree with something, speak up about it. Know your value and be willing to revise the terms should you need to. A couple of weeks ago, I perused one of my favorite freelance sites for some work. The way the site works it that you read the job descriptions and post a proposal if you’re interested in it. In doing so, you see how many others have proposed for the job. That can be a little intimidating, especially when you need the money.
On this particular morning, I applied to about ten jobs. Each time I got down to the fee section, I promise you, I had to coach myself through it. I added up how long it would take me to do everything to effectively do the job and charged accordingly. With so many cheaper proposals around me, I just knew that I was wasting my time. I refused to compromise on that, however. Even to the point that one of the clients reached out to me, expressing that he really wanted to work with me but only under the conditions that I transcribe for (far) less than I proposed to do the work for.
Bear in mind that my funds were low. I needed the money, but I was sticking to my guns. I said no. Two days later, two of my other proposals were accepted with no problem. I loved the work and the clients loved their results.
Writers are supposed to be flexible, but we’re also supposed to be firm. Know your value as a freelance artist and don’t compromise that. (I’m talking to both of us here.)