If you look online long enough (two minutes), you’ll find ample evidence of why some freelance writers are still struggling with running a successful freelance business.
I present Exhibit One here, a writer who, upon attempting to identify the roadblocks to their success:
My credentials don’t align with straightforward career trajectories. (They go on to list all the things they’ve done over their career….)
I find many gigs that are an ideal fit for me, but the client passes me over in favor of writers who have both extensive experience at just one company or industry and a portfolio that demonstrates linear professional growth.
The writer goes on to explain that their career path is not traditional, but they deserve the job because despite not having the exact experience needed, this writer has a track record of working with clients who extrapolated my ability and potential from my peripatetic professional history ....
Can you see what’s wrong with this? Anyone?
I get it. We all have had the disappointment of a potential client selecting another writer for whatever reason that doesn’t seem to make sense. What this writer is saying is, “I’m telling you that I’m your best choice: you need to hire me.”
Oh honey, if only it worked like that.
There are plenty of reasons why this writer — and frankly, any one of us — has not gotten the gig. Let’s go over a few points, jumping off of this particular writer’s dilemma:
Showing, not telling.
Did you really just tell them “Hire me because I said so?” That’s the message I’m reading into this. I’m not going to show you why I’m a good fit — I’m just going to tell you I am.
It’s on every one of us to show every potential client why they should hire us. It’s not on them to figure it out for themselves. Imagine if you were hiring someone to babysit your kid/dog. You wouldn’t go with the person who says, “I’m the best even though I’m not showing that on my resume.” You’re going to want that person who goes the extra step to show they want the job, that they’re conscientious enough to do the job, and that they’re invested in the job. Be that way.
Using your career as an excuse.
My credentials don’t align with straightforward career trajectories. Name one freelancer whose career does. Go on, I’ll wait. This is an excuse for failure, and a bullshit one at that. I’m not attacking the writer; I’m calling out the “I’ve already lost” mindset.
My credentials never aligned with anything resembling a career trajectory (whatever you’re defining that as being) or even a plan. My career is simply showing that I’ve built and built and built and acquired credibility through doing. And showing. My resume shows that I’ve done the work. Stop worrying about your credentials and whatever career you think that speaks to. Focus instead on defining your objective and working damn hard toward it.
Making broad assumptions.
This writer assumes that the reason they weren’t hired was because of a candidate with extensive experience and “a portfolio that demonstrates linear growth.” Ahem. That’s mind-reading, which I’m sure isn’t one of this writer’s best qualities. Or perhaps you’re fishing in a pond that’s far too deep for your abilities?
If this same writer were to apply (another problem is that freelancers should not be applying for jobs like an employee, but I digress) for any of the gigs I handle, they wouldn’t get those jobs, either. They have to demonstrate an understanding of the industry to which they are applying. Just saying, “I can do everything” isn’t going to convince anyone. Nor will grousing about why they chose someone with some actual experience and background in their business. Hiring someone without at least a demonstrated knowledge of the client’s business would be like hiring your dentist to remodel your kitchen.
Using the wrong words.
While this was clearly a response to a question online, the writer chose language that, well, doesn’t really fit with the context of the situation. “…extrapolated my ability and potential from my peripatetic professional history….” Word choice matters, particularly to clients paying you to present their business through words. It has to match the business, the mission, the messaging, and the audience. While this language works in front of an academic crowd, you’re not gaining traction with a client who manufacturers tractors.
Forgetting about your own image.
While we’re on the subject, how you present yourself matters a lot. I’ve seen LinkedIn profiles that are either outdated, unfinished, or shout “I’m piecing it together.” I’ve seen people wondering why they’re not scoring corporate clients when their profiles are loaded with blog credits, misspellings, incomplete sentences and touting their abilities with listicles.
Look at your own profile and resume with an objective eye. Are you dating yourself (does anyone buy listicles anymore?)? Are you embellishing your “business” writing because you put together two listicles or blog posts on how to hire a millennial or where to find the best deals on office supplies? Be honest, be realistic, and be relevant to what potential clients are looking for.
Fortunately for this writer — and for all of us — freelancing is somewhat forgiving. As I was telling a writer friend this morning, freelance writing is the only career in which you learn hard lessons that make your business better. But only if you learn them and apply them forward. I’ve had some tough lessons along the way. So have you, I’d bet.
I’d love to hear them. What were some of the toughest lessons you’ve learned in your freelance career? Let me know in the comments.