It's Not You. It's Them. (Or it.)
One minute things were motoring along nicely. You were finding your feet. Maybe even starting to feel comfy. Established. Secure. Ready – dare you admit it – to start thinking about your future. The next, you’re licking your wounds and wondering what the hell just happened. Where it all went wrong.
We’re talking about your freelance career, by the way, not The One That Got Away. Because that’s exactly what it might feel like to be a freelance journalist right now – as if everything you’ve worked your ass off has just come crashing down around your ears. Budgets have been cut, commissioning editors have gone quiet and no-one seems to have a Scooby about the future of our industry.
At times like this, we all know what to do. Binge-watch breakup films and live on Haagen Dazs for as long as it takes to quell the pain. (Yes, ice cream is an essential purchase in these particular circumstances, we’ve checked.)
Except what *really* helps when a relationship goes sour isn’t actually the obvious comfort stuff. Feeling sorry for yourself has its place, of course it does, but the turning point, in every heartbreak we’ve ever known, is when that feisty mate comes round unannounced and demands you let her in so that she can draw your curtains, force you into the shower and insist that you listen while she tells you how it really is.
He didn’t deserve you. She never liked him anyway. Her boyfriend’s brother’s desperate for your number, by the way. And had you ever noticed that he looked a bit like the ugly one from Westlife?
Look, we’re here to be that mate. This analogy is only going to go so far because we’re having to picture ourselves giving you the heartbreak pep-talk through your bedroom window at a safe social distance, but listen up.
You’ve come too freaking far to fall at this hurdle. True, a global pandemic is a pretty bloody good excuse for curling up into a ball and giving up on pitching altogether. But you’re better than this. We mean it. I’m thinking of each and every one of you as I write this – the scores of gloriously talented students we’ve had the pleasure of working with over the past five years who’ve made us laugh and cry; shared with us their woes and fears; and made our little hearts burst with bloody pride when you’ve celebrated your pitching wins and published pieces with us.
Heartbreak hurts like hell. You think you’ll never get over it but, with time, you look back on it with very different eyes. A lucky escape. Pain that helped you grow. A plot twist without which you’d never have the better and more beautiful life or relationship you’re so grateful for right now.
Yes, this feels like the end of days. We know it’s making you question absolutely everything, from whether your freelance career has simply run its course to whether you’ve got enough spirit left to send yet another sodding pitch into the void. We know that’s how you feel. Because we’ve felt it too.
Hell, we’ve contemplated shutting up shop altogether here at Muse Flash, popping a virtual ‘Closed’ sign on the door and declaring that we can no longer in good conscience persuade you that you CAN earn a decent living as a freelance writer, if only you’d listen to us and sort out your God-awful pitching.
Except that mate has been round to see us and she sorted us right out. We were at the equivalent of that stage where you’re terrified to leave the house in case you bump into your ex with their sickeningly hot new squeeze. She did the equivalent of forcing us into a revenge dress and dragging us to the pub when she knew he’d be there. Inside we were dying but on the outside, we were smokin’ and we definitely clocked a smidgen of regret on Former Lover’s stricken face.
Look, we’re not saying you have to keep at it right now. There’s a difference between giving an ex a little glimpse of what they’ve thrown away and trying to win them back. Don’t do that. Covid has rewritten the rules of everything, and what’s always worked till now just isn’t passing muster anymore. So lick your wounds, feel sorry for yourself, take Rishi’s money (if you can) and run.
Just don’t go down without a fight. Don’t slink into oblivion feeling like a freelance failure. Take whatever space you can to recover from the blows of recent weeks. Losing clients can have an enormous emotional impact. It’s ok if you’re reeling for a while, just come back swinging when you’re ready.
Because the one thing we know for certain about this pandemic is that this moment isn’t going to last forever, and these exceptional and (ACK) unprecedented circumstances do not define you – much like one ex ending a relationship doesn’t mean you’re not fit for being loved by anyone else.
No way, not on our watch, we’re not letting you give up on your freelance fortunes in this moment. All out of faith in your future? Fine, we’ll have faith for you that this will pass, and new opportunities will come your way. Our industry is changing and that’s not the same as dying. “People will always need good words,” a wise man told me this week. “And never more so than when so much seems to make so little sense”.
Hold on, pitchers. Voice your fears, set fire to things, and have an ugly cry. But promise us this; as the anguish of these difficult days begins to pass and ice cream for breakfast starts to lose its appeal, look yourself in the mirror and give yourself the kind of talking to that you know we would if only we could pop round in person.
Remind yourself of all the brilliant things you’ve already accomplished. Resolve to keep using your voice, in whatever capacity that might be. And don’t, above all, let the uncertainty of our current circumstances persuade you that you’re not worthy of the career you hope for.
I read a coronavirus piece recently that said something about this being an awakening, not an apocalypse. That’s a hugely simplistic sentiment so let’s not get into its shortcomings in a wider context – I’m just sharing the idea because I think it’s true, if you let yourself think of it that way.
Better days are coming. Good things are ahead. You’ve still got so much more to give. When lockdown ends and the awakening gets underway, we hear there’ll be vacancies for writers. Until then, eat your ice cream. Just be ready when the moment comes. And don’t forget: we told you so.