Since becoming a freelance journalist three years ago, I’ve been publicly effusive about its joys. I love the freedom to work however, whenever and wherever I’d like; the ability to explore whatever interests me instead of sticking to a narrow beat; and the thrill that comes with every pitch sent and every new byline achieved.
But there are downsides, some of which I didn’t expect. Here’s what I learned the hard way — so you don’t have to.
Build in time for unexpected edits
Relatively early in my freelance career, I’d filed three completely different stories to three different editors across a few months. All editors responded with edits on the same day. In other words, one hadn’t gotten to my story for a few months, one had taken a couple of weeks and one had taken a few days. And they all wanted the requested changes quickly.
The lesson: Unlike staff positions in which one editor is typically overseeing your workflow and can’t do two things at once, as a freelancer, multiple editors can indeed do multiple things at once. And they don’t know — let alone care — what the others are demanding.
So, you have to be prepared. That means making sure there’s always some breathing room in your calendar when edits are pending. It also helps to be proactive: Give editors a head’s up about any stretch of time you may be unable to respond.
Hustling can be anticlimactic
On the flip side, I’ve scrambled to meet a deadline — denying myself a ski day while working from Colorado, getting cozy with my laptop over the weekend in preparation for a Monday filing date — only to receive an “out of office” notice when I hit “send.” While I used to imagine these editors refreshing their inboxes anxiously awaiting my pieces, I’ve learned that’s rarely the case.
Likewise, you can’t control the timeline after you submit a draft. I have one story I turned in in August 2025 that’s been edited, but has yet to be published. And another I filed in early March 2026 that hasn’t moved to edits, even though the editor had originally wanted the piece in February. What’s more, all of these stories were assigned to me — not pitched by me — for specific projects or issues, which, I think, makes the delays even more surprising.
One practical takeaway is it’s important to work with outlets that allow you to submit invoices before a piece is finalized. And, if you need an extension, editors often have no problem granting one. That said, they do value writers who meet deadlines — even potentially arbitrary ones. So while my hustling isn’t necessarily rewarded with a next-day byline, it is rewarded with more work.
Many, if not most, freelance writers have another source of income
Behind shiny bylines often lie side hustles, family money or partners with more reliable income streams. In one of my Facebook groups of successful freelance writers, for instance, more than 50 shared how they make ends meet, whether by catering and dog-sitting, selling appliances, renting out a home or working in a library. Many said they pursue writing-adjacent gigs, like copywriting, ghostwriting, marketing and public speaking.
That’s understandable: One 2022 survey found that most independent writers’ freelance income was less than $30,000 a year, and that seems to include non-journalistic writing like for agencies. Strictly journalistic work is even harder to come by — and survive on. (It’s not impossible, though. AHCJ’s professional membership is open to freelance journalists who spend at least 50% of their time producing or editing editorially independent content.)
While I’ve been lucky to meet that threshold, the few branded-content pieces I’ve written have buoyed a lot of my lower-paying, but more fulfilling, work.
Rates don’t necessarily reflect effort or experience
Getting paid by the word or project is a shift from a salaried job, as I knew it would be. But what surprised me is how irrational it seems that the publication, not the writer, is often the one setting the rate. So whether you have five or 20 years of experience, whether your copy requires three rounds of heavy edits or none, you’re likely to get, say, $0.50 a word.
On the other hand, I love that a set rate rewards efficiency. So long as you turn in quality work when you say you will, editors don’t care how long (or short) it took you to get it done. But the reverse is also true: If you take on something time-intensive like a deep investigative feature, editors also don’t care how many grueling hours it took to get it done. Your check is the same.
So choose wisely. Some work pays well, some work comes with prestige and some work you deeply care about. Make sure each contract you sign answers at least one of those “whys.”
A killer month is just that
The first time I made over $10,000 a month freelancing, I thought I was sailing smoothly toward a six-figure career. But I soon learned that was just a good month, and that most months would be mediocre and a few would be bad, at least income-wise.
While it’s not surprising that working for yourself in an a precarious industry means inconsistent income, I’ve been surprised by how widely the pendulum swings. So, sure, treat yourself to a nice meal or manicure at the end of a good month — but hold off on scheduling that exotic vacation until you’ve saved the actual, not just projected, funds.
