How I came to be a freelancer

‘Frankly, I’d had enough of arguing with crackheads about whether I’d give them money on their broken phone.’

That’s both a direct quote and an accurate enough summary.

I came to be in such a position as the manager of a pawnbroking establishment in an area so insalubrious that the council erected street signs instructing human beings not to defecate in the street.

I came to be in that position as the business owners moved to Spain in 2021, leaving idiot here in charge. I didn’t want to be doing that. I had to be asked four times. It’s just, as I hear so often, COVID happened.

Until then, I was doing 20/24 hour weeks spread between the pawnbroker and a couple of other places providing ‘relief staffing services’. I had various projects within the art sector. I did transcription work. I fell into editing translations (I took a diploma consolidating that). I was planning on an MFA.

This is all looking good from the perspective of a fine art graduate word nerd. I did not want to be locked down 40 hours a week in a pawnbroking establishment.

Then lockdown did away with two of the jobs and all the art stuff faster than you could make people scatter by sneezing, and I took the offer of the managerial role.

I lasted until 2023 when I finally had enough and handed in notice with no clear idea of what next. Which, in some respects, was utter madness. But when you’re the sole employee and the owners are Spanish residents, getting a new job and working out a four-week notice period isn’t really viable. It ended up being 10 months. Which gave me time to think.

Luckily, I didn’t have to think too hard. There is such a thing as supply and demand. I was submitting a lot of my written word to various literary publications and, as a natural consequence, hanging around in a lot of writers’ groups. I noticed a demand for freelance proofreaders and editors. It wasn’t like I didn’t know how or I wasn’t qualified. The only surprise in this scenario was my taking so long to join the dots.

My excuse is that I wasn’t exactly having a good fun time, so I wasn’t firing on all four cylinders. I didn’t need to be, I was dealing with people who (e.g.) when I called them, tried to tell me that they couldn’t pay us right now as they’d loaned their mum their mobile to go shopping with, and their banking app is on it. While speaking to me on said mobile, which I had called, and they had answered. I did check. It literally went:

‘Your normal phone?’

‘Yes.’

‘That we’ve got the number for?’

‘Yes.’

‘That I just called and you answered?’

…

…

'Didn't think this through properly, did you, Mr X?'

Anyway, I walked out for the last time on 3rd July 2024. I’ve been much happier since.