Why write when you can talk?

A few years ago, I found myself in command of a workshop on how to make a living from freelancing. Fortunately, my co-pilot, one of my lovely A friends (I’ve realised since I began writing this blog that nearly all my friends’ names begin with the letter A – clearly I need to work my way up the alphabet a bit more thoroughly), had done this kind of thing before and so did most of the talking. I think I was just there for colour and movement. And perhaps a little interpretive dance when required.


All was going well until a very nice lady in the middle of the fourth row put up her hand and asked if one – and she was a ‘one’ kind of lady – had to speak to people to be a freelance writer. I paused mid-whirl in my interpretive dance. “Well,” I said, “a lot of contact is done via email these days…” I paused.

“Yes,” she said, somewhat impatiently. “But can you do interviews like that as well? It’s just that I’m a bit shy.”

“Ummm,” I said, breaking the first rule of public speaking – they’ll never let me into Toastmasters now. “One does actually have to talk to write professionally.” Her face collapsed into disappointment.

I was thinking of this little exchange on Friday as I made the train journey to The Big Smoke for what The Builder calls Coffee. With a capital C.

Writers tend to be people who like their own company. I’m quite open about the fact that I’m much better in writing than I am in person (which is probably why I love Twitter). But that doesn’t mean I can get away with not trying.

So I try to do Coffee at least two or three times a year. It involves meeting up with the editors with whom I work regularly, those with whom I’d like to work more regularly and, even, those who’ve never heard of me before I ring them out of the blue to say hello. It serves to remind them who I am (or introduce them to my charms), allows me to find out if there are any direction changes for the publication or website, and gives me the opportunity to pitch a few stories in their direction to see if anything flies. Even when I lived in the inner city I tried to get as many as possible done in one day – now that I’m in Fibrotown, that’s essential.

It doesn’t always result in work. Not straight away anyway. But it does result in a connection. And like everything else in the world, freelancing is about relationships.

When you freelancing, it’s very easy to disappear into your own parallel universe. You forget what it’s like to have colleagues and bosses and people who simply don’t like the shoes you’re wearing on any given day. You sit in your vacuum and come up with ideas and wonder why none of them are finding the mark. So sometimes you have to leave the bubble.

I really enjoy Coffee. In some ways, it’s exhausting, dragging your sociable self kicking and screaming into the light (or maybe that’s just me). But mostly, it’s exhilarating. I always come home with lots of new ideas and inspiration, along with a healthy dose of motivation. Of course, the five or six cups of coffee that I take in over the course of the day may have something to do with that…