I’m so extra.
One of my bookmarks is an article on the six natural resources that’ll run out. I do mental exercises so my mind is prepared for the pain if ever I’m a victim of anaesthesia awareness.
I don’t plagiarize, but I’ll take an article I wrote my damn self and run it through Copyscape just to be sure.
So it’s no surprise that I make content writing way more stressful than it needs to be.
The job I’ve created for myself since graduating is straightforward. A startup says, “We’re a startup that makes buttons. Can you write an article about fall fashion trends?”
Cool. I bang out an article. They’re happy. They pay me.
This is the part of the story where I’m supposed to move on with my life.
But I get overcome with guilt and intense pride, even if it was ghostwritten. How did the blog post do? Did it do what you wanted it to do? What are your content goals?
I get that a blog article is high up on the marketing and sales funnel and won’t have a high conversion rate.
I know I did the job I was paid for, and thank you very much for paying me on time.
But I’m still curious:
Was it good for you?
So I follow-up. I make suggestions. I get fidgety. Like someone who got attached after one date, I have to keep checking their social media channels, their blog, to see what they’re up to content-wise.
How are you doing? How are you DOING? HOW ARE YOU DOING?
Give away too much and you’ll have a nervous breakdown
It’s a delicate balancing act though.
When you write for a larger company, they have a very clear role carved out for you as their freelancer.
“You write this, you submit it on this date, we pay you. We literally do not need your opinion about anything else we’re doing. There is someone whose job title is that specific sliver of advice you think you’re blessing us with.”
But with startups it’s different. In most instances, so long as you aren’t obnoxious about it, they welcome your suggestions. Not because they aren’t capable of figuring things out for themselves, but because they have no time to think about it. They’re trying to keep the lights on and convince people to give them money so they can stop stressing about keeping the lights on.
They can barely breathe, let alone think about a data-driven content strategy.
But here’s where the balancing act comes in. You end up giving away more than you should, and if you aren’t careful it leads to exhaustion, resentment, or even irritation on the part of the client who never asked for all this extra effort and now feels burdened by your overcommitment.
New freelancers walk a fine line between adding value and stressing for no pay when no one asked them to.
I think I’ve struck a balance, but it took some time.
Add value but demonstrate your worth with informational invoices
I’m not entirely opposed to free work, so long as it’s work that’s building value on top of a piece of paid work and the person you’re providing it for respects your time. But you have to communicate that it’s a complimentary offer very clearly.
The best way to do this is by sending informational invoices. If you throw in a brief summary they can use when they share the article on Facebook, include how much it would have cost and just apply a discount on the subtotal. Another option is to simply point out how much this would have been worth when you send it along.
No matter what, make your worth crystal clear, baby. And a pox on anyone who belittles you for doing that.
Above all, if it gets exhausting, remind yourself that this extra thought is not paid thought and you can take a break guilt-free. This is easier said than done: Freelancers have autonomy and control over their schedule, but most find it difficult to “turn off”.
For me, I think the easy answer is that I should be working full-time for one company. I take a lot of pride in my work, and I don’t like a set-it-and-forget-it approach even if it’s just a teensy, tiny project.
But then I’d have to work on someone else’s terms. I’d have to “be the brand”. I’d have to look presentable every day, and I’m quite comfortable with my ragamuffin freelancer look, thank you very much.
Also: Fuck office politics.