Coming full circle and starting (over) again

This has been a nearly two three year journey. To get here. Three years ago, as the economy was showing signs of slowing and international visitors to our village were fewer - and as talk of a mystery virus - was sweeping beginning to terrorise the world, I was studying.

I know that is a long sentence. It breaks so many rules. But. It does sort-of illustrate the beginning of a sense of panic I was beginning to feel. A few years earlier, I'd chucked in the towel on career of many years. The environment in which I was operating had become untenable. The last project - which I'd begun with great enthusiasm - ended up being a chalice that nearly did poison me. I took a decision to walk away and start something new. I started a little tourism business. That timing wasn't great, either, and it soon became clear that that wouldn't sustain me and help me recoup everything I'd lost.

That brings me to the studies. Towards the end of 2019, I figured I should go back to basics - what I trained for. English teaching. But of second language adult learners - the space I'd played in for nearly thirty years. I refreshed myself by doing an advanced certificate course in teaching English as a Second Language. I waxed it. And proved to myself that I both had it - and that I could still learn new things. The course had me setting up a wiki and learning about online classrooms, among other things.

The world changed

Just as I finished that course and was awarded that certificate, countries all around the world went into lockdown. The World Health Organisation declared the pandemic. It meant that everybody had to work online. So a mid-fifties, relative novice, in practical terms, was not attractive.

For months, as we were locked in, I set up another website (free - via Wordpress) and related (free) email address. I joined Facebook groups and job platforms. I revamped my profile on Guru and Upwork.

Constant rejection and disappointment

I applied for every role and job I could. I registered myself with the myriad of online tutoring companies. Subjected myself to scrutiny for police clearance certificates, took tests and, and, and...

Sorry, we're not accepting people from South Africa

Your profile doesn't meet our requirements...

We need someone younger...

That's just for starters.

Then I canned the idea of working with people all together. I know that I can do research. I can write. So, as they say in the classics, play to your strengths. Even when you're at your weakest.

Then I was offered a job. Against my better judgement, I accepted it but resisted setting the salary at the level they said I was worth. The business folded and with it, three months income. I was in the dwang: I'd stopped looking for work because I had a job. It reminded me of a lesson I'd learned thirty years prior and before I started gig work. I had no control of the business. Freelancing and having irons in more than one fire was/is much more secure.

Go figure.

Friends to the rescue

What I didn't include in that litany of reasons for rejections, was the too expensive reality. Although the fee I was asking was appropriate on the low side, locally, on the international scene I could not compete, let alone survive, on the single digit fees that my "peers" charged.

One afternoon, I was having a rant about this with a fellow creative (yes, I've learned to embrace that appellation) and she told me about a Facebook page that is exclusive to South Africans.

I joined it and began responding to "advertisements". As usual, the number of responses was a fraction of the number of emails and messages I sent.

But.

I did get work

It began small and I did go through hoops with some prospective clients, but I got work. Some It all pushed me out of my comfort zone. I was writing on topics I knew nothing about, wasn't interested in and didn't understand. What I did know was how to write (and research) and learn about those topics - enough to present something acceptably coherent to the client. And they paid.

Building a portfolio and a rep

Over the ensuing two and a bit years, I've hammered away at the writing.

And my market side hustle. That did a few things: gave our week shape when we were locked in, provided me with an outlet from the frustration and boredom, but more importantly, it fed us. The writing jobs, although sparse, built me a relatively diverse portfolio.

I learned things

I learned to use online platforms with confidence and more importantly, I learned to accept that I am a good, versatile writer. I also grew in confidence and with that, so did my attitude when I applied for work. My sass came back. Not quite in spades, but return it did.

I also learned that relinquishing stressful work relationships without a fight, even when it has financial implications, is a win. Personally, professionally and financially.

Sass

Along with my sass came the confidence to up my game. That meant two things: raising my fees and showing a little more of my personality when I applied for work. So. I went through all the emails I had sent over the previous 24 months - the ones that had replies and the ones that didn't. I bothered them again. Guess what? People who hadn't replied, did. And.

I got (more) work. Yes, it was a test - with the prospect of more work - possibly a retainer. That trial is a story in itself - for me and that short lived client. Their client, for whom they'd hired me to write, pulled the plug. Suddenly. After they'd briefed me and we'd all invested time in preparing for my first job.

Guess what? They paid me for the time I'd put into the work. I was blown away.

The tide had turned

While this was happening, I'd also been working for another client for several successive months. Things were going well. Very well. So well that they not only sent me more work, but the agency has "taken me in". Yes, I'm still a freelancer, paid per job, but I have a title and an email address.

That's not all:

Now, eight months into this association, there are plans that look months, if not years ahead that - yes - include me.

But that's not everything, either

Towards the end of last year, another, forgotten approach crept out of the woodwork. This time, an acquaintance in the village. The gist of the WhatsApp conversation came after I'd stirred a hornet's nest around governance issues with the tourism association:

I'm looking for writers. Do you have availability? If so, could you send me samples of your work.

Well, the thought bubble above my head included words like "bear" and "woods", and I politely obliged and emailed him.

Shortly after:

Your body of work is compelling. Please could we meet in the next two days. I have to be away next week.

I broke a rule and we met on a Saturday. Within two weeks I had my first project. And a request to look critically at how "they" work.

That first project is approaching its conclusion and, with that, the promise of more, and a meeting to discuss how I can contribute to making the business work better.

Writer for hire: A new career as I approach my seventh decade

The upshot of all of this is a few things:

• transitioning my online (professional writing) presence, from free platforms for email and websites, to my own paid-for domain and website that declares me a professional writer for hire
• that not only is my writing of value, but that my writing about writing is important for my clients - and their clients
• I have a brand new career on the cusp of turning 60

Determination, not expectations

I said here that I was not going to allow this year to be a disappointment. I said I was hopeful. More than that, though, I expect nothing. Rather, I am determined to do a few things:

• appreciate the work relationships that are growing, deepening and mutually respectful
• accept that not everything lasts forever which is a reflection on nobody other than circumstances
• constantly being open to change, new things and different writing work that stretches my capacity and ability - without killing me

I have come into the light

Looking back, I realise that I went to a very black place. I could not see my way out. All I could do, and did, was to live day by day, doing what I can. What helped - in a big way - was Hive. I posted most days. Most days they were sh*t posts. Doing that, though, I wrote. That's (unless you hadn't guessed), my stock in trade. The only way one hones one's skill is to do the skill. So even though it was generally not profound or great writing, I wrote. It was a good discipline.

More than that though, is the support of this virtual community - yes, I have my specials - and you know who you are - and I wouldn't have come into the light without every single one of you. In different ways you have lent me strength, advice, wisdom and solace.

Thank you.

Irony

The irony of this, is that my capacity to post every day has all but dried up. I'm wondering why. Perhaps it's because I'd like to lift my game - on Hive. I don't know. I do think, though, as my healing continues (I recognise it for what it is), a "new normal" programming will emerge for me.

Until next time, be well
Fiona
The Sandbag House
McGregor, South Africa

Photo: Selma
Post script

If this post might seem familiar, it's because I'm doing two things:

• re-vamping old recipes. As I do this, I am adding them in a file format that you can download and print. If you download recipes, buy me a coffee. Or better yet, a glass of wine....?
• and "re-capturing" nearly two years' worth of posts.

I blog to the Hive blockchain using a number of decentralised appplications.

• From Wordpress, I use the Exxp Wordpress plugin. If this rocks your socks, click here or on on the image below to sign up.

• Join Hive using this link and then join us in the Silver Bloggers' community.

Original artwork: @artywink

• lastly, graphics are created using partly my own photographs, images available freely available on @hive.blog and Canva.