The Life of a Freelance Writer

I have often seen the ways the world breaks down--some people into one camp and all the rest into the other. This is true with travel: The world is comprised of those who travel and those who don't, or only do so reluctantly or with complaints. The world also breaks down into those who are in relationships and those who sleep alone every night. And the world splinters when it comes to work too: those who have 9-to-5, weekends-off, the-company-pays-me-whether-I'm- really-working-or-simply-goofing-around kind of jobs and those who are freelancers or otherwise self-employed.

Just as the travelers can't understand the homebodies and vice-versa, and just as the loved cannot understand the lonely, so, too, the corporate- or government-kept cannot understand those who are continually scrambling for work.

Since I left a monthly lifestyle magazine about a month ago, I have been spending about 30 hours a week looking for work. In short, I spend a great deal more time looking for work than actually working. I left the magazine because I was its Cinderella--doing all the work and getting paid next to nothing to do it. Some months I made less than $10/hour, a wage I have not made elsewhere for almost three decades.

When I left the magazine, I had already signed a lucrative contract with a German medical firm to the tune of $5,000 a month for PR and marketing work--the best gig I have had since I edited the acupuncture magazine in the early '90s. I was on a three-month trial. After much foot-dragging, hoeing and humming, the Germans decided to drop me. Not because of the quality of my work, not because of my work ethic or my ideas--indeed, they picked my brains before giving me the boot. No, just because they decided to employ their friend instead. Those in the corporate mind set probably think, "Well, you had a contract. You should sue for breach of contract." The time and energy involved in such a strategy does not put food on the table. I know that, and doubtless the Germans know that too.

So for the past two weeks, I have been sending emails and clips to every editor I ever worked for, every writer whose manuscript I ever polished. Then I've cracked open Writer's Market, the freelancer's bible, which lists thousands of consumer and trade magazines, their editors, contact information, what they're looking for and how much they pay. I've queried trade publications dealing with the business of healthcare to greeting cards. I've sent clips and queries to Selling Halloween and Selling Christmas Decorations, two publications that, you guessed it, go to companies that focus on putting us in the holiday mood. I've also approached two lifestyle magazines in this area.

One of the lifestyle pubs pays well--a dollar a word--so I am really trying to get something going with it. I submitted 15 very worthy ideas, all but one was nixed. I spent an entire day talking with business owners in the magazine's demographics to solicit ideas. And today I drove to south Orange County to conduct interviews for a 500-word story that may run. This is the first time in decades that an editor has asked me to write a story "on spec," which means that if he doesn't like it, I don't get a penny. So, for this magazine alone, I have already invested 14 hours. I have not yet written the article, and I don't have a dime to show for it. And may never have a dime to show for it.

I am a good writer. I've always been a good writer. I'm a hard worker, and I've always been a hard worker. Why is it, then, that I see such lousy writing in publications, but I have such trouble landing a steady gig? It really is exhausting sometimes.