Writing life

My First Paid Freelance Job-Disaster

But it taught me invaluable lessons about myself

Torshie Torto
SYNERGY [Newsletter Booster]

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Photo by Colin Lloyd on Unsplash

In August 2021, I got a call that would change my life. Of course, I didn’t know that at the time.

So the call was from a colleague from high school. She knew I was a writer and wanted me to write content for a website she also worked with.

It was the first time anyone had asked for my writing service and offered to pay for it. Well, granted the pay was abysmally poor. But it was a start and I couldn’t have been happier. Sure, I said. Let’s do this.

We went over the important details of the job. How many articles did she want? How many words? What’s the topic about? You, know, all those things a freelancer needed to know from their client. Well, we went over it all.

My excitement knew no bounds when I started. Wow, I got to write and get paid for it. To think that I had almost given up on the idea of becoming a full-time writer when I got that call. See, this call changed my mind — it made me realize that pursuing a writing career wasn’t impossible. It revitalized my goals.

But as you’ve probably already guessed from the headline, it wasn’t all a bed of roses. Less than two weeks into my job, I quickly learned that this was a nightmare. Not only was it taking an excessive toll on my mental health, but my client, unfortunately, was also trying to take advantage of me by going beyond our initial agreement.

Before I accepted the job, I had planned to do it for a month because I had other projects in the coming months. However, in only two weeks, I quit because of the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

While my first paid freelance job had mostly been a disaster, I also learned so much about myself and life in general in that short time.

These lessons are the foundation on which I began building my writing career from the ground up.

Lesson #1: I am more committed than I thought

I’d always been lazy and flippant about writing. Previously, I would be waiting for inspiration to strike before I would work on my novels or any writing project I had. Oh, inspiration did strike alright and it was as frequent as rainfall in Dubai.

So yes, while I wrestled with the idea of being a writer, I wasn’t doing a whole lot of writing. I was not committed to it at all.

But then I got a job as a content writer for a website and things changed completely. I couldn’t even recognize myself. What happened to the lazy old me? To get the job done for the day, I would wake up early in the morning before six to do some research on the topic. Afterward, I would start writing.

To be fair, I had to wake up earlier to start writing because there were a lot of power outages at regular intervals during the day. My laptop had turned into a zombie and relied directly on electricity to run. Without power, I was screwed for the day.

My client expected me to write two articles of about four to five hundred words, four days a week.

On Fridays, however, I had to write a long-form article of about a thousand words.

With this new responsibility coupled with the power outage issue I had in my country, I had to adjust my attitude and do away with things like procrastination and a lack of self-discipline.

Before my client gave me this job, I had never in my life written so much every single day. But now, here I was, doing something I had never I could do before. It made me realize that everything I knew about myself not being productive enough was complete bullshit.

If I could dedicate a lot of time and energy to a job that was undervaluing my services, then I sure as hell could do even better if the pay was excellent. Even more importantly, I could commit myself to my own books.

The only person stopping me was me.

Lesson #2: I paid a lot of attention to detail

Long before my first paying client hired me, I had been doing technical writing for other individuals for free.

Even though I didn’t receive any form of compensation for the work I did, I still had this mindset that I would do it to my very best ability. But I didn’t realize how attentive I was until someone paid me for the first time to write for them.

Where research was involved, I would do it thoroughly. I would also ensure that I edited the crap out of the articles. I was obsessed with producing high-quality work for my client.

I might be lazy, but when I did something, I did it extremely well. It wasn’t even about impressing the client. It was more about my own values of giving my very best no matter what. My first freelance job cemented my professional values.

Since then, I have been applying this same thing to all aspects of my life. If I can be meticulous with other people’s writing, I sure as hell could be meticulous with my own. I haven’t looked back since.

Lesson #3: I was indeed a writer

Though I had been writing for a time, I had a hard time identifying as a writer. Yes, I did call myself a writer, but I would always second-guess myself, wondering if I really was.

But once I started my paid freelance job, all those doubts just disappeared and nothing could tell me otherwise that I wasn’t a writer. Now, mind you, this wasn’t because I was getting paid. Maybe that helped, but it wasn’t the true reason.

It was difficult identifying myself as a writer back then because I wasn’t as serious as I wanted to be. I didn’t write much, I wasn’t committed, and whenever I started writing a book, I would quit before I got anywhere. So deep down, I felt I had no right to call myself a writer even though I loved to write.

My new attitude came about when I started producing so much content that it felt criminal to not identify as a writer.

Since then, I don’t hesitate to call myself a writer. I don’t feel this inherent guilt anymore and it was all thanks to my client.

Lesson #4: My time and energy were worth more than I gave myself credit for

Of course, since that was the first time someone was paying me to write, I said yes without thinking. While I managed to negotiate for higher pay, it was still peanuts. Yet, it didn’t really matter at the time.

I thought that it should be a good way to build my portfolio since I was still a beginner. Besides, at the time, I didn’t know how much content writing was supposed to cost. I didn’t think writers earned much anyway. This mindset probably sounds weird, but I genuinely felt that way at the time.

Anyway, I dedicated my time and energy to producing high-quality content. In the first week alone, after writing nine articles, I started rethinking things. I was expending a lot of effort in researching, writing, and editing these articles. My client didn’t only want quality but also quantity. There’s nothing wrong with that, except that the value I was giving wasn’t worth the pay.

The whole thing was slowly burning me out and I found myself more exhausted than normal on good days.

But I couldn’t blame the client. I was the one who accepted terms, after all. So obviously, I was the one undervaluing myself.

It was at that point that I started rewiring my mind about what writers should earn for their services. I did some research and learned to my horror that I was basically slaving myself away.

We had already come to an agreement on the price for the month and I didn’t want to go back on it. I told myself that after the month ended, I would increase my rate to reflect the value I was giving or stop writing for the client. At least, that way I could regain my sanity.

But only two weeks into the month, I terminated the contract. And that was because of something the client did which I found unforgivable.

We had agreed that I’d be writing two short-form articles (400–500 words) four times a week and one long-form article (1000 words) on Fridays.

My day job only lasted four hours a day, so I had a lot of free time to write all those articles.

So while writing nine articles every week on different topics seemed like a lot to me at the time, I didn’t mind doing it. I thought it would also be a good way to start a writing habit.

But suddenly, this client changed their tone. The 500-word article was too short, they said. Make it at least a thousand words, and the thousand-word article, at least 1500 words.

Wait, what? Was this person trying to take advantage of me because I was generally an agreeable person? Or maybe I was looking at this the wrong way. To keep things professional, I reminded them of the deal we had at first.

They said well, it was too short. I said, alright. Would they pay more then? They said not really.

Interesting. No problem. I think they would be better off finding another writer, I told them. I got paid for the two weeks I had worked, and that was the end of it.

This encounter made me wary of other clients. Anyone who would not honor their own contract was not worth working for. Period.

All you’ll do is harm your mental health and nothing in this world is worth that.

Conclusion

I’m still glad I wrote for that client because it might have probably taken me longer to know all these about myself. It was also a great way to build a portfolio as a newbie.

If you’re a new writer, take opportunities when they come. But as you grow, know when to say no to things that don’t work out for you.

Don’t let people take advantage of you just because you’re new. When you and your client agree to a contract, make sure you both stick to it. If they try to go against it, don’t stand for it. Your mental health is far too important.

Don’t be afraid to say no to them. There will always be new opportunities in the future.

I’m a freelance content writer and a fiction writer. If you’re interested in my services, find me right here (safe link to my service page).

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