Tag Archives: running an editorial business

Starting out as a freelance editor: Reflections on the first few years

Now at the four-year mark of her freelance career, proofreader and copyeditor Eleanor Smith reflects on the ups, the downs and the lessons learnt – and offers an insight into starting an editorial business.

Having reached the four-year milestone with my editorial business, it feels right to mark the occasion by doing a touch of self-reflection on my freelance journey so far. Hopefully other editors will gain something from reading about my editorial escapades – whether that’s a dose of empathy or perhaps some guidance if you’re only just starting out yourself.

In this post, I will cover:

  • leaving full-time employment
  • taking my first steps as a freelance editor
  • an unexpected roadblock
  • choosing whether to specialise
  • celebrating the wins
  • lessons I’ve learnt.

My background and leaving full-time employment

From about age 13, I knew I wanted to work in the publishing industry. Books had always been an important part of my life, with regular trips to the library as a child to pick out that week’s adventures.

With that in mind, I got my degree in English literature and took some courses with the CIEP (then SfEP). But after a month of editorial work experience in a well-known publishing house in London, I realised the capital city life wasn’t for me.

So when I saw a job for a proofreader in a marketing agency pop up in my home town, I was thrilled. I could still use my editorial skills after all – without leaving home! Before long I was busy editing content and should have been loving every minute. But a toxic atmosphere can ruin even the best role …

It was only when the job began to impact both my physical and mental health that I knew it was time to tread a different path. Of course I was nervous, but I felt taking the ultimate risk and going it alone would be worth it. I knew if I didn’t give freelancing a try, I would always be wondering ‘What if …?’

Baby steps

Now it was time to take my first tentative steps into the freelance editing world. Straight away I rejoined as a member of the CIEP and took another proofreading course to sharpen my skills and increase my confidence.

When there’s no income on the horizon, you start to panic a little. So I sat down and made my first plan: exploring different avenues of finding work and deciding what kind of projects I wanted and was able to take on as a relative newbie.

I researched just about every publishing company in the UK (and some overseas too), set up alerts for freelance editing jobs and looked into several online directories. Slowly, my business started to take shape. I had made contacts, figured out what I wanted to do and set my own pace.

A temporary halt in proceedings

A year into working as a freelancer, I encountered an unexpected roadblock: the pandemic. It turned out it was not a great time to have a young business just beginning to spread its wings. Like many, I was faced with deadlines being pushed back indefinitely and found myself with a lot of unwelcome free time.

What this situation did was present me with a valuable lesson. When you’re self-employed, some months will be more successful than others. I used this time to address some of the tasks that had been shoved to the bottom of the pile – the ones that would eventually make it quicker to come out of this dry spell.

I set about updating my CV and directory entries, contacting different publishers, exploring new ways to enhance the services I offer and finding tools to make editing more efficient. I had to keep a positive mindset and believe that the work would return – and thankfully, it did.

Woman taking notes on a laptop

To specialise or not to specialise?

I knew that a lot of editors choose to specialise in a field where they have previous experience, but as my degree was broad and I wanted to step away from the marketing world, I could go in any direction.

From educational children’s material to novels and puzzles, I’ve worked on a wide range of literature, and I can’t say whether I’ll choose to specialise further just yet. For now, I relish jumping between genres, gladly switching from books about history to fantasy epics to gritty crime.

The point I am trying to make is that it’s okay to choose only one route and stick to it, but it’s also perfectly okay to do a bit of wandering and see what captures your interest along the way. I’m still in the latter camp.

Celebrating the wins

When you work for yourself, there is no boss to give you external validation. No one is patting you on the back for a job well done (unless you do it yourself – no judgement here). Because of this, it can be easy to skim past the wins and, in doing so, fail to acknowledge them.

Over the last four years, I’ve struggled to celebrate these wins (even when I achieved Professional Member status with the CIEP!). Often I became so focused on where the next project was coming from, I didn’t take the time to pause and appreciate what I had achieved so far.

Being your own biggest cheerleader is a great asset as a freelancer, and while I still experience the occasional wobble, I’m finding this gets easier with time.

Lessons learnt (the hard way!)

Starting an editorial business is not an easy endeavour, and I will admit that my naivety has landed me in a few, shall we say, unfavourable situations. If you’re early in your freelance career, perhaps I can help you avoid these snags and keep your metaphorical knitwear intact.

Here are some memorable lessons I had to learn the hard way:

  • Early on, I offered to work on a book for free as a trial, with the hope of receiving repeat work from this particular publisher. I excitedly completed the job, got great feedback, then never heard from them again. Lesson learnt: only offer to do a short free sample!
  • After a client was late paying my invoice, I still took on more work with them and had to keep pestering them to pay. Lesson learnt: don’t give clients too many chances when it comes to payment. If an agreement is made at the start of a project, they should stick to it.
  • When a client asks for a timescale, give your timings a little padding. Better that than having to put in extra-long shifts in a panic to get an edit done on time. Lesson learnt: offer a realistic deadline rather than the one you think the client wants to hear.

Next steps

I’m excited to see where the next four years take me. I plan to continue honing my craft further with more courses, figuring out which projects excite me the most and trying out ways to market myself – something I’ll admit I find difficult, as it’s easy to compare yourself to other editors.

Does the impostor syndrome ever go away? I will let you know if it happens!

About Eleanor SmithEleanor Smith

Eleanor Smith is a freelance proofreader and copyeditor based in Somerset with a passion for films, musicals and cats, the latter being her favourite breed of co-worker. A Professional Member of the CIEP, she applies her editorial skillset to an eclectic mix of projects, from children’s educational books to crime, fantasy and historical fiction.

 

About the CIEP

The Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) is a non-profit body promoting excellence in English language editing. We set and demonstrate editorial standards, and we are a community, training hub and support network for editorial professionals – the people who work to make text accurate, clear and fit for purpose.

Find out more about:

 

Photo credits: header image by Pixabay on Pexels, woman taking notes by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.

Posted by Eleanor Smith, blog assistant.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the CIEP.

Wherever you go, there you are: Not-so-new learnings from parenting and editing

In this post, Ayesha Chari shares her experiences on running a freelance editing business while bringing up a young child. She opens up about her struggles to juggle work and childcare, some of the ways she’s had to adapt her work routines, and the things that have helped her to get through it all.

Acknowledgement: with thanks to clients and colleagues who’ve made safe spaces for conversations over the years. This is more personal than I wanted it to be, but I hope sharing will make someone somewhere feel they’re not alone. And that we can learn from each other if we let ourselves find community, even when we least expect it possible.

My four-and-a-half-year-old is coughing away as I attempt for the umpteenth time to write a sentence beyond the blog heading (which, at the moment, reads ‘CIEP blog’, but I hope will be cleverer by the end of this, if that comes). The noise from their tiny hands rumbling a box of classic Lego pieces in search of the perfect one for the pizza-delivery truck they’re building is deafening. The TV is playing today’s game of the ICC Men’s T20 World Cup 2022, silently. The partner has taken care of breakfast, cleared up and is going out for a quick haircut before the rest of our day unravels. Another device in the house, I’m not quite sure where, is playing Bollywood songs I’m annoyingly humming in my head on and off every time I get distracted from writing the next sentence here* or trying to figure out how many more days I should wait before getting the child seen by the professionals for the cold and cough that never seem to go away fully now that they’re in school.

(*It has taken me so long to focus that now the game has changed from whacking a ball with a bat to kicking it around furiously for 90 minutes. I hope you will be reading this before the 2022 FIFA World Cup trophy is won, but don’t be surprised if it’s well into the New Year!)

Yes, school. Who’d have thunk I’d be a four-and-a-half-year-old parent and still wondering how I got to where I am, where we all are as a family?! That I’d also be decently self-employed for now nine years and finally ready to call what I do a business. It feels like it was only yesterday that I took our sleeping cuddle-bundle to their first CIEP (then SfEP) local group meeting in person. Together, we’ve since attended nearly three years of regular virtual meetings, fewer in-person ones because masked life, one in-person annual editor conference, three virtual ones, and several editing and business-related webinars. My child’s also been a massive part of everyday editing – it’s about cooperation, I’m learning – and has even got surprisingly excited through my website-building journey last year. So, what, if anything, is this really about?

Parent and child working at a laptop

The not-so-brief backdrop

The year before parenthood was my first financially productive year in five years of freelancing. (New editors: sometimes it can take a while; hang in there, it’s well worth it.) It was that which helped me decide I wanted to stay self-employed and not fill in another full-time editorial job application. Ever.

I was already an Advanced Professional Member of the now CIEP, had committed to training regularly, was relatively active in the editorial community of colleagues-slowly-becoming-friends, and had regular clients who promised to be in touch as soon as I was ready to end maternity leave.

They kept their word, and I was officially back at work as an eight-month-old parent–editor. Without family or friends nearby to help with occasional dailyness, I struggled. We struggled. My workday started, reluctantly, when my partner took over child and house after his full day at work. I’m a morning person (as is the little person, so far), and though I get by with less than average sleep in general, this shift in routine was painful. I struggled to settle into any sort of rhythm, hated working in chunks of time not in my control, felt miserable not being able to take on as much work as I wanted to. The list is long.

The silver-lined obstacle course

A few months in, when the new parenting–editing work routine was beginning to feel a little less frantic, comfortable even, my partner’s work circumstances changed and we found ourselves doing weekdays apart and weekends together as a family. My workdays became night shifts and weekends, and grocery shopping, laundry, essential and non-essential household sundries had to be reorganised. We were maze runners, again.

But there were silver linings. I’ve had the most understanding of clients, a couple of whom were in similar situations as new parents and carers, and eternally supportive colleagues at the end of a direct message or even a phone call if I dared. It felt reassuring to know we were going to help each other get through each assignment one day at a time. Courses have got done, learning has happened, calamities have been overcome and tides ridden, new clients have had work published successfully, deadlines have been met, conferences and meetings have been attended, old tricks shared and new ones picked up, illnesses have been survived, growing confidence in business acquired, and food and laughter have made it to the table among family, friends and strangers even.

The pandemic, as all of us have experienced, magnified the hurdles, with or without children in the mix, with or without much change to daily routines for those with an already functional bedroom or under-the-staircase office. At a cost both personal and professional. But the editing communities that I’ve made my home show me every day that we’re in this together.

Lessons learnt and unlearnt

Clients and deadlines – the relationship puzzle

Emergencies and planned family time both need accounting for. As editors, we all know we’re cogs in the publishing/communications landscape we work in. We take pride in meeting those deadlines, many of which every now and then are not met by others in the same chain. Quite possibly with valid reason and for causes beyond their reach. Yet, we go into a flap when one creeps up on us. The uncertainties of parenting and other caregiving responsibilities make it trickier to plan around deadlines, holidays, rest and recuperation.

For me parenthood has reinforced the importance of being transparent about what I can/can’t and will/won’t do. The boundaries I set for myself help to create realistic expectations with clients. I share as many or as few details as I want to, but if I need time off I let my clients know as early as possible – whether my child is unwell (which can happen overnight), I’m planning CPD time off or I’m unavailable at fixed times of the year. When agreeing deadlines with author-clients specially, I ask if they have other commitments – caring responsibilities, travel, work – and require buffer in the schedule. I make sure they’re comfortable sharing if the need arises and set ground rules about communicating openly and often, especially when a change that may affect the editing project is anticipated.

If the ongoing pandemic has taught us anything it is that we’re all human, that life happens, that priorities lie on an ever-changing spectrum. Extrovert or introvert, people thrive in relationships, in community. Children are brilliant examples of the natural need for human connection. My work is as much about editing as it is about communicating, clearly and well. I’m a strongly opinionated introvert who’s on a mission to learn to be unafraid of sharing, of having difficult conversations and of collaborating consciously. Build your editing business on relationships, not textbook rules.

Parent reading to child

Scheduling – flexibly firm routines

Changing, erratic routines come with the territory that is parenthood. It’s one of the first lessons in the role. Not a pleasant one if like me you thrive on being in control. Not fighting the change makes dailyness slightly less painful. Guilt – for working too much, letting your child cling to you, not working enough, letting someone else care for your child, for yelling, not being firm enough, for sleeping or even eating that last cheese slice/cookie – will come and go. That is reality too. See it for what it is and let go.

In late 2021, a 12k-words-long article that should’ve taken a few hours’ work took a very guilt-filled, tearful two weeks to edit. If I took my own medicine, the matter would’ve been easier to close the chapter on a year later. I know now it won’t be the last, only that moving on will happen with a smidgen less anger. I fought with myself to make the most of my peak productive morning hours, but ended up swinging between tears and fury by the end of daylight hours because I hadn’t edited anything, hadn’t ‘worked’. Not even when the child was asleep and I’d planned to send those emails, clean up files, sort author queries. Vicious cycle until I realised that I was still efficient, just in a different way from what I was used to. It made the editing at night so much smoother: slower but simpler. Routines as a family change with time, age and circumstances. Being flexibly firm is a middle path worth trekking. Unnatural-to-you rhythms can be your friend if you prioritise you in the equation.

Juggling tasks – caregiving versus business

I’ve worked around caring for others, older family and ill friends before. But a little human who needs 24/7 attention of some form is a different juggling act altogether. So, how do you handle the responsibilities? I’ve found (re)prioritising is a constant and perfection a myth. Doing a job well involves managing one’s own expectations and self-care too. Think about whether and how you can share tasks with a partner, with other family and friends, or pay for professional care.

Being not OK is not OK. Running a business and childcare (read: life) don’t come with manuals and are not meant to be in constant opposition. It has taken lots of trial and error for me to get comfortable with what works for us as a family and for me as a self-employed parent. If I could mass-produce sticky-notes for new parents, they’d include ‘Ask for help’, ‘Don’t apologise for having a child/being a parent/having needs’ (in check boxes), ‘Ask for help’, ‘It’s OK to be not OK, but also not’, ‘No rights and wrongs’, ‘No guilt’, ‘Go outdoors’, ‘Work or life, seek help’ (yes, again). Parenting and editing aren’t mutually exclusive: which takes priority when depends on your circumstances.

List of work tasks and birthday reminder

Superpowers –  multitasking ninja or specialist wizard?

Parenting, editing and running a business require all the superpowers of the universe and some. No fooling anyone! Have I got said superpowers? ’Course not. Has my ability to run a business changed since parenthood? Of course it has!

I’ve got more confident in recognising that with responsibility comes power (or is it the other way round?!) – the power to choose when and how to multitask, to focus, (re)train, specialise or generalise, who to work with, what to work on and which services to offer. The power to know when to take time off, how to organise schedules, when to let the laundry pile and the dust collect or hire help with housework, when and how to turn down projects, how to delegate. Even how to put on those trainers and run round the block. (What I’ve not been able to do is figure out how on earth you listen to a podcast while ironing or cooking.) Whatever your superpower, don’t be afraid to restructure your business to suit your family’s needs.

Helpful reminders – editing and parenting

  • Cliché and all, but find your people. Join that professional network, care and share. Build a strong referrals list of colleagues for when your juggling is wobbling. Your clients and colleagues will be grateful. CIEP, ACES, EFA, Editors Canada, IPEd, MET, Sense, ICF, PEG South Africa are all welcoming communities meeting different needs. Find a good fit for you and your business.
  • Plan for eventualities, money and time-wise. Broken bones, illness (sudden or otherwise), school and non-school events, loss and grief, special-O days (birthdays, first-time days). The inventory is endless. Prioritise, compromise, get help, slow down to snail’s pace.
  • Practise efficient editing. Leave buffer time for all projects as default, then add some more. Have healthy money chats. Use tools and tech to make life easier but don’t hesitate to unplug whenever you need. Make time for yourself mindfully, even if five minutes (mine is when I brush my teeth).
  • Make practical changes. Adjust your work space to make it child-friendly. (You will have to share the colourful pens and good stationery sooner than you realise!) Set reminders around your child’s activities and school routines. Use a simple planner to accommodate work and family. Involve your child in your work like they involve you in their play. (Mine is an expert scanner and knows when to flip document sides in the machine.)
  • Find other parents – they need you as much as you need them. Look online but also ask about events in public spaces like libraries, community centres, activity clubs, neighbourhood facilities. Ask your healthcare providers for local networks. Ask parent-friends and parent-colleagues.

For more practical tips, check out coach and fellow-editor Laura Poole’s Juggling on a High Wire: The Art of Work–Life Balance When You’re Self-Employed. It is an excellent, essential read for all who work freelance, with a separate section on ‘Caring for Others and Yourself’ and a chapter on ‘Working at Home When You Have Kids’.

Open forum! Share your favourites and anything that has helped you as a parent and editing business-runner.

About Ayesha Chari

Ayesha ChariAyesha Chari is an Advanced Professional Member of the CIEP and an independent editor specialising in sensitive editing of interdisciplinary academic writing. When not helping scholars solve content and language problems, she can be found helping undo extra tight Lego bits, hiding glitter, dreading the next dress-up day in school as much as muddy puddles, excitedly jumping at every new word her nearly five-year-old reads (now often in Mama’s emails!), and teaching them to identify constellations in the night sky, among other things.

 

About the CIEP

The Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) is a non-profit body promoting excellence in English language editing. We set and demonstrate editorial standards, and we are a community, training hub and support network for editorial professionals – the people who work to make text accurate, clear and fit for purpose.

Find out more about:

 

Photo credits: header image by William Fortunato, parent and child at a laptop by August de Richelieu, parent reading to child by Lina Kivaka, sticky notes on a monitor by RODNAE Productions, all on Pexels.

Posted by Eleanor Smith, blog assistant.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the CIEP.

Wise owls: Should you make your prices public?

The CIEP’s wise owls are all Advanced Professional Members, with well over 100 years of editing and proofreading experience between them. We asked them whether they publish their prices on their website.

Sue LittlefordSue Littleford

I debated this with myself for quite a while, and decided that I kinda would make price information public. My website links to the Institute’s suggested minimum rates as a starting point for negotiation, and explains that the actual price will depend on the condition of the text, what work is wanted and at what speed. One of my pet hates when browsing for services is having no idea whether I can afford a particular provider, or whether they’re overpriced (or suspiciously underpriced) for what they offer. I don’t want to have to give up my email address just to find the whole thing is a non-starter. Indicating the lowest prices also weeds out the people who want 100k words done for a tenner. And giving an external authority for the lowest possible price cuts down arguments (I believe, anyway!). I always pitch in at rather higher than those minimums though, ‘because I’m an APM and those are the lowest rates that should be entertained by anyone’, and I find that people accept that rationale pretty easily. Whether it’s the kind of clients I work for (my red-flag radar is highly active), or whether the website is working its magic, I don’t get people trying to drive down the price much at all. Well, not for private clients – we all know that some publishers and packagers have their own ideas of a ‘sensible’ budget!

Nik Prowse

I have never made my prices public, for several reasons:

  • One size does not fit all: if I made widgets, then I would sell each one for the same price. But editing jobs are all different: you have to weigh up size, complexity, subject matter and state of the manuscript, among other factors. All affect the price.
  • Clients differ: some pay per 1,000 words, some per hour; some offer a fixed fee. Some will negotiate (asking our rate), some won’t (offering a fee). For those who ask we can assess the job (see above) and for those who offer we can decide whether the fee is worth taking.
  • Urgency affects your fee: deadline is an additional consideration. A job that arrives at 4pm on Friday with a deadline of Monday morning commands a higher fee than the same job offered over two weeks.
  • Our reasons for taking work vary: we have clients we aspire to work for, we have those who pay the bills. We may accept low-paid work from a client who calls once a month. But we may decide to establish a better standard of pay with a new client with whom we want to build a long-term relationship.

My starting point is usually CIEP-suggested minimum rates of pay, but for the above reasons I would never advertise a set price for a job.

Liz Jones

I can see the argument in favour of publishing prices, but I choose not to. This is because I work with a range of clients in different sectors, and the way I agree pricing with all of them is different. For most, I agree a rate per project (either for the whole project, or per thousand words, or per page), but sometimes I agree an hourly rate. All of this tends to work out for me within a rate range I find favourable, while also working with my clients’ budgets. I don’t discuss with clients what the others pay me, just as I don’t discuss any other aspects of our agreements and contracts. However, I do find it helpful to share some pricing information privately, with colleagues. This helps me with quoting for new work, and can help them too.

Louise BolotinLouise Bolotin*

I don’t publish my prices for one very simple reason: no two jobs are ever the same. As a result, my rates vary. I do a wide variety of work that can range from proofreading a doctoral PhD thesis to editing a company’s white paper, to project-managing a team of writers or doing a ‘proof/edit’ on a self-publisher’s novel. I normally charge by the hour, but when I work with PhD students or self-publishers I’m more likely to negotiate a fixed fee. For some clients I may agree to a day rate. Mostly, but not always, my rates are somewhat above the CIEP’s suggested rates because as an Advanced Professional Member my higher rates reflect that my experience matches my membership status. But I once charged ‘mates’ rates’ to a colleague who asked me to work on his first novel because he is also a close friend (that was also the only occasion I worked with a friend – I’m usually strict about separating work and my private life to avoid complications). And on another occasion, I charged triple my usual rate as I worked on a project for a client that had a multimillion-pound turnover: if I’d not charged what they expected, as such companies expect suppliers to be expensive, they’d have wondered why I was so cheap, perhaps imagining I wasn’t that experienced, and I doubt I’d have got the job.

I don’t find publishing rates is helpful. For example, a potential client could look at them, think I was too expensive and go elsewhere, whereas if they don’t know my rates in advance they will at least contact me and we can have a discussion. If their budget is tight, I can offer a more limited job for the amount they can afford. It also means I can avoid tricky conversations if I estimate the cost of a project for a potential client and they respond with ‘But your website says £XX for proofreading, not £YY’. In my experience, businesses often ask for proofreading when they actually mean copy-editing. So I’d rather have a chat about fees once I know exactly what they want and need. I have seen arguments for publishing one’s rates, but I’m unlikely ever to be convinced of the merit.

Sue Browning

I don’t put my prices on my website or other promo material. The main reason for this is that it is very easy to be ‘held to ransom’ over the sorts of ballpark figures one is compelled to quote ‘blind’ to cover all possible eventualities. If, for instance, I were to say ‘My rates range from X to Y’, it’s very hard to then quote more than Y once I’ve seen a sample, as the message the potential client takes from that is that their work is terrible. And that’s never a good way to start a relationship. Either that or X and Y represent such a huge range as to be unhelpful in the first place.

However, I can quite see how quoting rates might reassure potential customers and also dissuade people who are not willing to pay what I want to charge. So I don’t completely ignore the rates issue on my site. Instead I explain that I tailor what I do to each person’s specific requirements and offer a free short sample edit. This seems to work for me in that I attract the types of client I want to attract. But it’s a decision I review from time to time, as I do most of my business practices.

Michael FaulknerMike Faulkner

I fudge the pricing issue on my website, which I often think looks a bit unhelpful, but there are three reasons.

First, I worry that putting my hourly rate out there will reduce the number of enquiries, and I won’t have the opportunity to justify my rate in ‘conversation’. Secondly, my work is extremely varied and therefore price-elusive, ranging from serious law books to literary fiction to children’s illustrated. And thirdly, while I could publish an hourly rate, I would find it impossible to give an idea how that translates into what the client will actually pay, because my words-per-hour rate of progress varies so dramatically depending on the nature of the material, and how clean it is.

My calculation for quoting purposes almost invariably depends on the rate of progress through a (free) sample. Assuming I know the final word count, I divide that by the words per hour achieved in the sample, and multiply the result by my hourly rate – and of course every project is different (unless it’s a regular client, in which case no need for all this malarkey and I can go straight to the price).

So, my publicly stated rate can be summarised in the editor’s two favourite words: it depends!


The revised second edition of the CIEP’s guide Going Solo: Creating your editorial business is now available – it’s a great place to start if you’re considering becoming a self-employed editor or proofreader.


*Louise Bolotin died in October 2022; her contributions are much missed.

About the CIEP

The Chartered Institute of Editing and Proofreading (CIEP) is a non-profit body promoting excellence in English language editing. We set and demonstrate editorial standards, and we are a community, training hub and support network for editorial professionals – the people who work to make text accurate, clear and fit for purpose.

Find out more about:

 

Photo credits: owl by Kevin Noble on Unsplash

Posted by Abi Saffrey, CIEP blog coordinator.

The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of the CIEP.