Brave new world, after Christmas, I’m stepping into the foggy world of the freelance writer, the online equivalent of busking.
I have great hopes for the future – but, I’m human, and have fears, worries about the venture.
Here are my top three:
- Inability to socialise any more. Will being propped in front of my iMac for 8 hours a day make me as socially awkward as Roy Cropper? Will simple tasks like buying petrol, answering the door or making small talk with a neighbour become difficult, if not impossible. Will I be thinking in conversations of my keyword density and hoping the neighbour engages with me fully, when I talk in headlines: Paul, 5 things I’d like you to do to your front garden. Or a metadescription Paul your front garden is annoying me. I give you five things to do to it. Or in One Stop, pause when asking for milk as there’s too many others searching for it, so I need to make it a long tail conversation: ‘Have you any organic, semi-skimmed milk please, that is fairtrade?’
- Inability to make money. I sit all day on Google keyword planner, optimising my content, exploiting marketing trends, that I forget the whole point of freelance writing – enjoyment, whilst earning a crust. This won’t happen if I can’t network with neighbours, One Stop or the virtual world of Social Media and LinkedIn. I slowly starve, skeletally satisfied though my sacrifices have led to pole position on page 43 of Google searches for “freelance writer.”
- Inability to appreciate other aspects of life. I become so obsessed with blog posts that I fail to appreciate the beauty of the sun setting, the roar of the A12 from the garden or the heavenly scent and taste of market chips in Great Yarmouth market place.
Tongue firmly removed from cheek now.
Bring it on, I say, freelance writer – you don’t really scare me.