Chez Shaffner

Saturday, November 11, 2006

Learning What “Freelance” Means

Two weeks ago I came across a freelance writer looking to meet others of his kind here in the Boston area.

I monitor the “writing gigs” at Craigslist every few days, on the off chance something catches my eye. That’s how I first hooked up with Being There Magazine, who published two of my album reviews last week. Unfortunately, most postings sit on the edges of legitimacy. Craigslist has proven immensely useful to me through the years, but it pays to have a cynic’s eye when perusing the listings…

This particular fellow seemed sincere. “The best part about being a freelance writer is that you don’t have a boss,” he said, “but the worst part is that you don’t have any co-workers.” Since I’ve barely started down this road, I had not reached that conclusion on my own, but it seemed sage. And sad.

A seasoned freelancer new to Massachusetts, the organizer was interested in learning about affordable health insurance here. Since I'm a newbie, I was intrigued to hear how other freelancers got started. I have taken the opportunity to “talk shop” once before, but my friend Ezra's path to freelance success is anything but typical.

The organizer suggested we meet at a pub in Harvard Square. I sighed with relief, since the cynical side of me half-expected him to suggest his living room, which would have confirmed suspicions that he was a skeevy death-cult recruiter with a chillingly sincere voice.

When I stepped into Tommy Doyle’s (where the House of Blues used to be--another Harvard Square departure, Ferranti-Dege and Tower Records are next...) I found the eclectic group with pint glasses on coasters. As the minutes passed, more writers came, until ten of us sat shoulder-to-shoulder around a table designed for six. It was a fascinating two hours, and I learned so much more there than I ever could have from online forums or bulletin boards. Most of us departed hoping to make such meetings more regular affairs.

As strangers recounted how they make their living, I realized that I had never understood the role writers play outside traditional markets. To a great extent, my view of “writing” has always been myopic. When I was growing up, I wanted to write a novel. My daydreams always culminated in a hardcover book bearing my name on the cover and spine. A thousand times, I imagined walking into a random bookstore, going to “S” in the fiction section, and plucking a copy of my bestseller from the shelf.

To me, that was writing. The Great American Novel remains my dream, but what about campaign letters from charities? Solicitations from credit card companies? (The twenty of those I shred each week probably written by twenty different freelance writers!) Corporate websites and newsletters? Grant applications? Marketing collateral? The “legitimate spam” I delete every day from my Inbox? Someone has to sit down and write all those words.

Until my newfound friends described their efforts in arenas other than magazines, newspapers, and books, I had not reconsidered the universe of freelance opportunities. It’s a broad market, peopled with thousands upon thousands of writers paying their rent with words, and without ever drafting a novel...

Somehow that makes trying to crack into this wacky business both more and less intimidating.

While I sipped another pint of Stella, I realized that I’ve been a paid writer for years. During the last eighteen months, I crafted corporate newsletters, technical specifications for custom software solutions employing varied technologies, user guides and manuals targeted to multiple audiences, and detailed proposals for complex multi-year projects. Through all those tasks, I never once realized that I was writing. Hmm. How imperceptive and narrow-minded...

Now off to pen a dozen query letters...

Labels: Writing