Making Money with Freelance Writing Doesn’t Always Mean Writing What You Want

As I complete what is at least my 38th article on credit ratings, credit scores, and credit reports, I am motivated to write a quick post here on the blog.

I am a freelance writer.  That means that I can come and go as I please, I can wear flannel pants all day (I do), and I can even write what I want – some of the time.

You see, as a freelance writer, you need clients to hire you.  Clients hire you because they need you to write something for them.

Sometimes, that something is very broad, like something about Windows Vista.  Other times, that something is very specific, one article about average credit scores, one article about excellent credit scores, one article about improving your credit score by getting a new loan, one article about…  You get the idea.

I wouldn’t trade the life of a freelance writer for pretty much any job that I am remotely qualified for.  (I’m willing to be the nation’s Car Czar, if they’re still looking for someone.)  But there are plenty of times when I’d be willing to let you have my “day in the life of a freelancer.” 

The worst part is that these days build up.  With the freedom that comes from being a freelancer, one tends to work on the fun and easy projects first, while saving those other projects for days when you are less tired, or more focused, or your time management has been more successful.

Of course, if that day comes, it is sometime after the day the deadline is on.  That means that I have to buckle down, get serious, and crank out some top-quality writing for a client.  Somehow, it never seems to be just one project that bumps up against a deadline.

Multiple dry assignments seem to lurk around together in the brightly lit but somehow still overlooked corners of your project planner until they both demand immediate attention.  There is no mystery, per se.  Most projects come with “end of” deadlines, end of the week, end of the month, end of the quarter.

If you are thinking ahead as you read this post, you know where this is going.  Friday, February 27, is the end of the week, and the end of the month.  That it isn’t the end of the quarter seems of little consolation as I type into the night.  It’s still only Tuesday, so you can imagine what crouches in the dark nether reaches of my to-do list.

I’m going to bed.  I’ll make it up tomorrow.

***************************

Across the silent meadow, a dark shadow crosses quickly and then disappears into the brush. The dim rays of the moon’s light try in vain to illuminate the unseen force that neither rustles the leaves, nor leaves behind footprints.

At a laptop keyboard a wary but unworried writer dances his fingers lightly across the keys.  His eyes droop ever so slightly, his breath comes silently and slow.  With that, he efficiently saves the oversized array of windows and documents, and then presses the power button.

To the inviting comfort of his warm bed, he retires.  A deep breath, closed eyes, and the world of dreams rushes to occupy his recently cluttered mind.  Rest is good.

In the meadow, the brush reluctantly gives up its secret.

Silently, the interloper pushes steadily across the land.  It is in no hurry, for it cannot be stopped.

It is Wednesday.