The Art of Freelancing

“Aren’t you lucky,” my friend says. “You work for yourself.” This is not a good moment for me. My first thought is, “What? Are you kidding?”

Later, after I calm down, I see her perspective. I do not have to arrive at an office at a set time, figure out how to get along with colleagues, and eat a sandwich at my desk because that’s how nonprofits roll. But I don’t work for myself. I have clients with expectations and deadlines, not to mention personalities. Publishers send me guidelines, some clearer than others, that I have to follow when copyediting manuscripts. Figuring out what people want and how best to deliver it is a solid feature of my work.

I’m not complaining. But my friend’s observation illustrates the point that it is hard to understand what other people do—even if it is easy to understand why they do it. What is a business day like for my friends who teach? Who write code? Who work in product development?

In The Argonauts, Maggie Nelson writes, “How does one get across the fact that the best way to find out how people feel about their gender or their sexuality—or anything else, really—is to listen to what they tell you, and to try to treat them accordingly, without shellacking over their version of reality with yours?” This is profound advice for all of us: ask questions, listen to the answers, and don’t assume your ideas’ correctness.