It’s all gone very quiet out in freelance land. After over 30 years I thought I was used to the ebb and flow of work – too busy one month, desperately scanning my emails for offers of projects the next. But the current dry spell is one of the worst I’ve experienced, and my LinkedIn feed, WhatsApp groups and informal chats suggest that it’s not just me having to find other things to occupy my time; I’m not sure I’ve ever been this on on top of the household laundry situation, or given the dog so many extra walks (not that he’s complaining).
So why is it so hard to secure work at the moment? There are lots of theories out there which I dutifully churn out when sympathetic family and friends ask me how the work’s going – or not going, as I drily reply. I don’t know if they're true, but running through them helps to thicken the tough skin required for freelancing a little, a life that a freelance journalist friend of mine describes as like being on a perpetual blind date: you put your best self across to get the commission in the first place, then you carry it out with a mask of cheerful compliance (no matter how you’re treated in return), then you wait for some positive feedback (something that may never arrive, though the payment of your invoice hopefully will – eventually). My skin’s definitely thickened over the years, but it still hurts when repeated contact about a prospective commission turns to ghosting; when my sample work is rejected and then appears in print uncredited; when I travel over 100 miles for an interview (at short notice and thus great expense) only to discover, after contacting them myself weeks later, that they’ve decided not to fill the position after all. And all these are genuine examples from just the last few months. Regular knock-backs, disappointment, rejection, perceived failure… much like serial dating, freelancing really isn’t for the faint-hearted. When the work’s flowing, I find the knocks are easier to absorb, but when it isn’t they can chip away at my self-confidence as, like not hearing from that blind date ever again, the whys spin around my head:
Commissioning Editors just aren’t using freelancers as much
In-house intel suggests that publishers have certainly tightened their belts, increasing the workloads of their in-house staff and cutting budgets all round. Just ask my Editorial Director friend, who I’ve been known to drag out of her home office myself, declaring that they are not paying you to work until eight o’clock in the evening! But publishers also need freelancers to fill the gaps, of roles left empty by recruitment freezes, to cover holiday and maternity leaves, to get a last minute drop-in project moving fast. So I’ll buy this excuse a bit, but not entirely.
Publishers aren’t investing in as many titles
As I often remind the authors I mentor, publishing is a business. Publishers want to make money selling their books, and the best pitch in the world won’t get the green light if the dreaded margins don’t add up – just ask anyone who’s been in an acquisition meeting, desperately waving a profit and loss sheet that isn’t glowing green on all profitability fronts (yes, I’ve been there, and yes, the thick skin is definitely an asset there too). As finance directors keep an ever tighter grip on the bottom line, in-house editorial staff tell me it’s harder than ever to get projects signed off, which can only be bad news for the freelancers who might have worked on them.
My rates are too high
Ideally I charge a day rate slightly higher than average, reflecting my many years of broad experience, but I’m pragmatic about it – work is work after all, and nobody’s going to pay me to give my own dog an extra-long walk, or for getting to the bottom of my own family’s laundry pile (though the dog, at least, looks grateful). But the fact is, rates are rarely advertised (on either side) in advance, so they don’t stop freelancers being approached for work – and most of my projects are paid on a flat rate for the project anyway. The secrecy surrounding freelance rates is legendary, so you’d be hard pushed to know if you’re over or under charging (in fact I wrote a whole different blog about that, which you can read here). What is clear though, is that some publishers are offering insultingly low rates. But would I turn down work offered at a lower rate in the current market? Or would I reason that if I don’t take the gig, somebody else will?
There are more freelancers competing for the work Post-Covid this may well be true. Whilst I applaud the flexibility people have embraced since they set up home offices and found new hobbies to fill the endless dull days of lockdown, it may well have created a larger than average pool of freelancers. As people look for better balance and well-being in their lives, they’re leaving full-time jobs to combine freelance work with other pursuits. Or they’ve moved away from the traditional hub of publishing in London and no longer wish to commute. Now that some companies are enforcing more compulsory days in the office, I can see why freelance life looks considerably more appealing than a four hour train ride from the beautiful wilds of Norfolk to bustling Liverpool Street station. So perhaps increased competition for the freelance work available is a factor, and, as I know from my own experience, it’s often the last person out of the in-house door who is at the forefront of everyone’s minds for the next out-of-house commission.
AI is taking over publishing You can certainly use AI to generate a story or drum up some illustrations, but are publishers really already relying on it to create books from scratch? Or to successfully edit and proofread a book to a print-ready state? I'm not an expert on AI, but I'd like to think they're not, or at least not yet. But then I've only ever used ChatGPT once, when I asked it what the average day rate was for a freelance editor/writer and it gave me a figure over three times more than the average rate I'm offered. Depressing and reassuring all at once.
The world is in a state of turmoil I’m not really qualified to debate this with the authority of a political commentator, but I think anyone can see that things are pretty unsettled globally, affecting businesses both big and small. Whether that’s trickled down to affect freelancers like me, sat in my home office staring despondently at a LinkedIn feed full of woe, I can’t be sure. But it can’t be helping, can it?
It's a sign to do something else with my life I like to be busy, so not having enough work to do leads me to mull over the whys above a little too much, whilst also considering what else I can do with my life before I slide into reluctant early retirement. Unfortunately I don’t really believe in signs, from deities or anything else, but I do think circumstance can force you to act. So maybe this is the time to pursue those other career options that have milled around inside my head over the last few years? Maybe I’ll never die happy unless I open that dream café/bookshop that I’ve used all this free time to plan out in my head? Or maybe I’ll just keep on keeping on, waiting for the work to pick up, lurching from optimism to disappointment, trying to thicken up that skin just a little more…
I’m (a) not that good at what I do, (b) past it, or (c) not what publishers want Public service announcement to all freelancers reading this: DO NOT EVEN GO THERE!!
I hope the work picks up for us all, the sprawling pool of freelancers chasing the seemingly diminishing pile of projects. I hope our skins stay thick enough to weather the lull, but not so thick that we lose sight of the supportive community that we belong to.
And I hope that if all else fails, you’ll come and visit me in my little café/bookshop. I might even shout you a coffee.