The writer is in her late twenties and has taken up freelancing as a career. Yet, Zainab Mahmood muses over whether she should become employed at a publication
Clicking away furiously at my keyboard I often wonder if I’ve chosen the right direction for myself. It’s difficult at this juncture, more than half the twenties’ behind me, not close enough to 30 to be settled down, hanging somewhere in the middle with no clue how it will turn out.
I wish we could get alternate lives, like in that existential film Sliding Doors where Gwyneth Paltrow makes two different decisions and gets to see where each path leads to. Am I desperate enough to resort to psychic hotlines or tarot card readings? Maybe I ought to begin with tea leaves and work my way up till I find an appealing set of predictions.
The predicament is figuring out how best to act upon my passion for writing. Would a full time stint at a sober monthly magazine do me well, fermenting my reputation as a serious journalist while opening up avenues to foreign publications?
On the other hand that would mean limiting myself to a monthly and slogging away on selective features following strict guidelines. The other choice would be joining a monthly with a selective audience where the remuneration isn’t quite handsome enough to warrant my full time commitment.
The latest appetizer on the plate is working for an entertainment section of a popular newspaper. Somehow I feel as if the plot of a story on page three (about a recently released widely acclaimed Indian film) was based on the pickle I find myself in.
A journalist needs to gain enough experience doing a wide range of work, develop their own style and prune their skills, but there is always the danger of treading too far down a needless path. Writing entertainment pieces could become far too addictive and eventually serve as journalistic suicide. Losing credibility in the long run might be too heavy a price to pay.
The flip side of the coin is turning out to be quite a joyride. I get to keep my own timings, nobody dictates the terms, and I’m comfortably in the driving seat. Choosing my own subjects, researching and deciding on the direction of the piece and best of all, leaving the painstaking task of editing it down to just the right size and tone to the editors. This is the charm of freelancing.
There’s nothing quite like all the cheques flowing in a month after the pieces print. Albeit there are often frustrating delays regarding when the article goes to print and in receiving the payments, but once you get used to the system and develop a rapport with the editor it’s pretty smooth sailing.
One thing is for certain, the un-pushed and subservient types need not apply. There’s a certain image, language and system that goes with being a successful freelancer and practice surely makes perfect.
Now I have it down to the tee, calling up an editor, delivering my sales pitch, sending in the piece a week later and confirming that it’s going to print. There’s a careful play of mind games and public relationing that goes into maintaining relationships with editors.
I’ve learnt through experience, that they need us as much as we need them. Neither needs to take the upper hand, but I do need to assert myself as a writer with integrity who is willing to be flexible within reason and is unmistakably reliable as a consistent writer.
Once you have this nailed, your journalistic aspirations will know no bounds. Nine to five at one particular place, following office policy, putting up with politics and other’s whims’ might be tolerated if the entire package is worth it, but it rarely ever is.
It’s far more lucrative to freelance for as many publications as you want, developing your own flavour and sharpening a wide set of skills. I’m thinking of becoming a book reviewer or a satirical writer, or maybe a sociological analyst or an entertainment specialist. I haven’t decided yet, and there’s no hurry. Ample time remains, while for the moment I am content being somewhat recognized, occasionally appreciated and almost famous.