Feb
Biting My Thumb at Cold Calling and Networking
When I started freelancing, I read that I needed to cold call to get some clients. So I did, despite the fact that I hate calling strangers with a fiery passion that knows no bounds. I called for a couple weeks, despite the fact that I seriously contemplated stabbing a pen in my eye before each call, weighing hospitalization against another painfully awkward phone exchange. I called and called, breaking out into sweats each time. I could have written a best-selling diet book: How to Sweat Your Way To Skinny Bitchiness with Cold Calling.
After weeks of psychosomatic pain and no leads or clients, I finally ditched the cold calling. I tore up my little script with a satisfied growl, and set to work writing a kickass email introduction instead. I played to my strengths, demonstrating what I could do with some wit, some selling and some stellar communication. And it worked: within a month I had my first clients, who became repeat customers.
Since freelancing has few roadmaps, and occasionally spotty support, feeling lost is pretty much a given. So, many of us literate wordsmiths do what we always do – hit the books and the web, seeking out the success of others to guide our way. But what many of these resources lack is an acknowledgement of our choices in the matter.
In a recent Renegade Writer post, Linda encouraged writers to remember that part of the fun of our job is making it what we want. We don’t have to get up early and guzzle coffee just ‘cus that’s what writers are supposed to do. We can sleep in late, stay up all night, indulge in whatever rituals help us produce, and do it all without feeling guilt and a sense of failure towards some arbitrary writer’s standard.
The same applies to all the freelancing bibles and gurus out there that say success will be had only with following the writing rules, and obtaining clients through cold calling and networking. I loathe traditional in-person networking just slightly less than cold calling; I’d only consider stabbing the pen in my hand rather than my eyes to get out of it. Networking is my nemesis because it’s a thinly veiled dating scene. It involves going up to complete strangers, often without the social lubricant of alcohol, engaging in a sufficient amount of small talk and crappy jokes, working up to eventually trading cards (with the requisite oo’s and aa’s that reminds me of American Psycho), and doing the “what can I do for you?” dance. Exchange the last question for “how can I get you into bed,” and you’re at a Chicago club around 2 am.
Part of my growing process as a freelancer is learning what works for me, in terms of daily routine, writing process, and obtaining clients. The joy of my job is that I can make it what I want and need. Since I detest cold calling and networking, I don’t have to do it; instead, I institute some other creative form of marketing myself. It’s this choice about how we structure our careers that’s so attractive about being a freelance writer, and it’s this choice that we have to remember. Without it, we slowly revert back to the unsatisfied worker bee in our past.
What rules do you regularly flout? How do you make freelancing your own?
