From ghosting and theft to scope creep and stalking, here’s how to navigate freelance writing’s hard truths and horror stories.
Freelance writing has given me access to many incredible experiences – things I might not have had the money (or guts) to do on my own.
From spending several days on board a luxury superyacht and snorkelling in the Maldives to diving with sharks and hiking through rainforest to the site of an historic plane crash, freelance writing, as a career, has definitely opened doors.
But amid the frolicking in the sun, and all the fun and adventure, there’s been the occasional jump scare too. Anyone who’s been freelancing for more than a few years will agree that, just like in the fairytales, there are wolves lurking in the woods, and bogeymen under the bed.
In addition, creative professionals are commonly beset by mindset hurdles, such as Imposter Syndrome, burnout, procrastination, and writer’s block. They have industry challenges such as frequent rejection and the onward march of AI to contend with. And then there are simple daily tests such as finding time to be creative, coming up with new ideas, and simply getting started.
In the spirit of Halloween, here’s a round-up of four of the more formidable challenges freelance writers come up against – along with tried-and-tested tips on how to handle them.
An editor ghosts you
An editor commissions you to write a story. You bust a gut to turn it around, submit it, and then … nothing. You wait a week. Nothing. Follow up? Crickets.
Don’t take it personally. It’s possible that the editor is dealing with a health or other personal crisis you know nothing about. Of course, that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve invested time and effort and deserve some sort of resolution.
Ghostbusting for fun and profit
How you tackle an editor ghosting you depends on how saleable and time-sensitive the story is, the relationship you have with that editor, the contract (if you’ve even signed one), and your personal preparedness to wear the loss or burn a bridge.
In the past, for an evergreen story I was confident I could sell elsewhere, I’ve sent an email saying:
Just following up on the story you requested on (subject) which I submitted on (date).
As I haven’t heard back from you, I’m wondering if you’re still planning to use it? Or is there something more you need from me?
If I don’t hear back from you within the next seven days, I’ll assume you’re no longer interested in the piece, and will try my luck elsewhere.
That prompted a quick response from an editor who’d been travelling overseas – along with a commitment to publish (and, most importantly, pay for) the story.
Breaking the spell of silence
On another occasion, when the editor’s delay meant that the news cycle had moved on, making the story I’d written impossible to place elsewhere, I simply sent through an invoice.
This finally provoked a furious reply in which the editor declared that they only ever considered work ‘on spec’ and had no recollection of requesting it (despite the email trail to the contrary).
That story never came back from the dead, and nor did I get paid for it.
But I did at least learn who not to pitch again.
A client pays late … or not at all
Payment is a perennial problem for freelance writers.
First, there’s low word rates which make a mockery of the MEAA’s recommended minimums and non-existent kill fees. (Incidentally, a kill fee should have been paid in the last example above.)
Then there are editorial policies which mandate payment on publication which might be anywhere from months to years down the track. Vivienne Pearson has written a cracker article on why payment on publication plays merry hell with a freelancer’s finances.
Combined, these factors can crush the spirit of even the most resilient freelancer.
Tackling theft as a freelancer
Then there are the real doozies – clients who don’t pay at all.
I’ve had a magazine which owed me thousands of dollars suddenly fold.
Overnight, I morphed from a contributor to an unsecured creditor, and despite attending a bunch of meetings with other stiffed suppliers, I never saw a cent.
I learned a lot from that experience. Today, when a publication seems to be running up a large tab, I place further pitches and stories on hold until the money tap is turned on again.
Sometimes this requires a difficult conversation with an editor who may not be aware of the vagaries of their own accounting department. Hopefully, once their eyes are opened, they will go into bat for you.
Prompting recalcitrant payers
Much more common is the situation where publications delay payment for published stories to the extent that you might reasonably start to wonder whether everyone in the accounting department has died.
Here’s a step-by-step approach on how to tackle this annoying problem:
Step 1: I usually send at least three follow-up invoices, spaced a week or two apart.
Step 2: I intersperse these with calls to a member of the accounting team, who will usually provide some sort of bland reassurance such as, “It will be in the next pay run” (it won’t), “The cheque’s in the mail” (it isn’t), or “Can’t locate it – could you resend?” (I already did.)
Step 3: If this doesn’t work, and often it doesn’t, you can send a formal letter of demand using this template as a springboard. That usually sorts things out quick smart.
Step 4: If it doesn’t, the next step is to sic the Media Entertainment and Arts Alliance (MEAA) or your relevant industry body onto them.
For Australian writers, photographers and other creative professionals, I highly recommend membership of the MEAA for this and a range of reasons, including their industrial advocacy, education, and access to great deals on professional indemnity and public liability insurance.
Step 5: Still no joy? Only the most brazen or troubled publisher will hold out this long, but unleashing a lawyer or a debt collector, or taking matters to the small claims court in your state (such as the Queensland Civil and Administrative Tribunal) may help to resolve the issue.
Such action will obviously cost you financially. However, if there’s a significant sum at stake, it may be worth it.
Be aware of the other costs, though, including the potential to burn bridges.
Even the tiny puffs of smoke you generate in Steps 1 and 2 may see you labelled as “difficult”. And there’s no retreating from Step 5, where the fire has developed into a raging inferno.
It’s not fair, but it’s not unusual.
Try to keep your sense of humour – it helps ease the sting when you feel you’re being screwed. Request a Zoom or face-to-face meeting – and turn up wearing this ‘Pay my Invoice’ cap.
Scope creep: When a small assignment becomes bigger than Ben Hur
You’re contracted to write a simple 1000-word article for a fixed fee. So far, so good.
Then the editor casually comes back with some questions which, if answered adequately, will add a further 600 words to the story.
Alternatively, or in addition, they might request:
- A 300-word breakout box;
- A different story altogether;
- An additional case study;
- A lengthy series of captions;
- Annotations for multiple maps;
- Several additional interviews;
- Rotating rounds of edits from different team members (all of whom have different opinions);
- Requests for your original photography.
These additional tasks, over and above what was agreed, are all examples of scope creep.
Scope creep occurs when a freelance assignment blows out beyond its original dimensions.
Even small add-on demands can be problematic, because they eat into the time and energy you have available for other projects, without the promise of additional payment.
Maddeningly, too, such requests usually arrive when you’re on deadline for something else.
Tackling scope creep cheerfully
How you manage scope creep depends on the relationship you have with the client, how extensive their requests are, how busy you are, and (again) how willing you are to absorb the loss or rock the boat.
If it’s just a few small edits, it’s no big deal.
But it can be difficult to identify the dividing line between ‘reasonable edits’ and ‘scope creep’. When there’s a question mark, it can still be worth doing the extra work without making a fuss.
However, copywriter Kim Hobson suggests always including the out-of-scope items as a line item on the invoice, specifying that they were provided at a “100% discount”.
This acts as a subtle cue to the client that future such requests will incur a fee.
If the client’s requests really do fall outside the realm of what is ‘reasonable’ (however you define it), you can always agree to undertake the additional work – contingent on payment of an additional fee.
My freelance colleague Diana Kelly Levey suggests saying something like:
I’d be happy to add another 200 to 300 words of copy to address these changes and make the article stronger. The initial assignment didn’t detail this and requested I turn in copy around 600 words. If you’d like me to flesh these sections out, I can do it for an additional fee.
You attract the attentions of a stalker
Val McDermid has had ink thrown on her, JK Rowling was inundated with phone calls, letters, and visits from an woman who was later deported, and Stephen King’s stalker was the inspiration for his novel Misery.
But it turns out that high-profile writers aren’t the only targets for stalkers, harassers, and assorted other individuals.
Many journalists and other media workers are subjected to online and offline abuse, particularly if they are from diverse and minority backgrounds.
Research from Media Diversity Australia found that 85% of a sample of Aboriginal, CALD, LGBTQIA+ and media workers with a disability had experienced either personal or professional abuse online.
Half of them said the abuse and harassment stayed online only.
The other half said the abuse and harassment either sometimes (11%), or occasionally (39%), moved offline.
My own minor Baby Reindeer moment
As a writer, I’ve personally had more contact with stalkers and harassers than I ever did while working as a forensic psychologist in prison.
For example, many years ago, I wrote a story about expensive perfume for The Sydney Morning Herald.
For some reason I’m still to fathom, that seemed to set a particular individual off, as he bombarded the office with emails and letters, and repeatedly called the masthead’s switchboard, demanding that I return his call.
The then editor urged me to ignore it all.
“He doesn’t sound like a very nice person,” she said.
It wasn’t bad advice. Refusing to engage with an unhinged individual is often recommended.
Sure enough, his frenzy finally burned out when it had nothing to feed on.
However, if you find yourself the target of unwanted online or offline attention, experts recommend keeping a record of any calls, messages, texts, letters, gifts, or other unwanted approaches.
These can come in handy should you need to seek further legal advice, make a police report or pursue a prosecution down the track.
Over to you … which of the formidable four have you encountered – and what did you do?
While you’re here …
I warmly invite you to subscribe to my newsletter. You’ll receive writing tips every fortnight, breaking news on courses currently under development, and a FREE copy of Pitching for Publication, which deconstructs three successful pitches to Australian and international editors.
