The World is Your Oyster: Part Three

Following along in the same vein as the first two parts of "The World is Your Oyster", I'd like to take a look at global networking.

I am a freelance writer. I do content generation, investigative journalism, blogs, informative articles, how-to articles, and a variety of topics and formats dependent upon the needs of my clients. I have successfully published creative fiction, and my goal is to eventually transition into full-time novel writing. However, publishing fiction, or even content for the Internet, is no longer the way it used to be in the 20th century.

In the 20th century there was a fairly straight-forward and nationally-accepted standard to submit your manuscripts: two spaces after periods, double lined, and be prepared to sit on your thumbs for 6-8 months while you waited for a publisher to get back to you on whether or not your manuscript had passed or failed.

Enter the 21st century. Manuscript formats abound. Every e-zine and paper magazine has a different submission guideline and format preference. In order to stay on top of things you have to learn how to be flexible, how to format your work into a variety of different ways to satisfy your client's needs. It doesn't just apply to manuscripts, either. Some people want you to submit work to their websites directly via their Wordpress login. Others want a Word document. Some prefer Open Office documents. Others still would rather have it in a PDF. Some want double spaced, others don't. Some want 12 point Arial, while others want 11 point Times New Roman. Some want underlined, some prefer italics.

The point is, everyone's needs are different. As a freelance writer you have to be flexible. You have to be willing to adjust in order to move ahead, and keep generating new clients.

I'm still a relative newbie at the freelance world. What I am not a newbie at is business in general. I ran a successful construction business in Colorado for several years, as well as spent time as a foreman and superintendent for my father's company, which was a multi-million dollar commercial construction company, from the time I was 19 years old. I've seen the ins and outs of corporate business for over 10 years now, and while I'm not a suit-and-tie white-collar worker, I've learned a few things over the years that have helped me become reasonably successful in my current position, despite the fact that I've only been doing freelance writing as a career now for a little over a year.

Being flexible is key. You have to be willing and able to adapt to the circumstances. Part of that is keeping up with the current document programs. Another is networking. I'm not a huge fan of social networking other than for keeping tabs with my friends, but I'll have to admit...in the past week or so of having started a Twitter account and linking things to my Facebook I've generated hundreds of hits on my blog, as well as expanded my client base. I've also been expanding my contacts on a global level, which brings me to the point I was beginning to make before I started to ramble.

Global networking. By this I mean expanding your client base, as well as your reader base, to include people on a global scale. Too often I see writers--especially writers in the United States--refusing to think outside of the box. Many times I see writers in the US assuming--incorrectly, I might add--that the only client base and reader base they need to worry about is the one at home. These same writers are the very ones I've talked about in my first two "The World is Your Oyster" discussions. They are the farmers standing in the field with their torches, the smoldering ashes of the threshing machines at their feet, proud in their stance, proud that they stood up for the principle of it all, proud that they refused to lower their rates to accommodate for global growth, but in the same breath railing against the advance of technology, woefully looking back to the past when they were the only ones capable of fulfilling their clients needs. And as they look around on the horizon they see thousands, nay millions!, of threshing machines springing up, churning out content at a pace that fills them with dread, because with mass production comes competition, and competition is bad.

Unless you can learn to adapt and move with the times.

It's happened before. Many times. The threshing machine. The construction market in America, inundated by illegal Mexican workers. The gold mines of America, the coal mines of Australia, full of Asian migrants, willing to work for pennies compared to the local residents. And in each and every scenario the businesses have gone with the cheapest labor, regardless of the principles. Why? Because it's business. The low man wins 9 times out of 10. And yes, you can try and hold to your principles and hope that you can win that 1 out of 10 to your side, but grit your teeth in frustrating as you watch the other 9 jobs go to people you feel aren't qualified to do the work.

The first mistake is in assuming that the competition--that is, the workers willing to do the work for what you consider pennies--is somehow less qualified. The second mistake is in dwelling on the past, holding your torch, railing against the threshing machines, the printing press, the digital camera, the hand-held camcorder. The world changes. The world evolves. Technology advances. Humanity moves forward, regardless of those few who stand staunch against the change, waving their torches and going fearlessly into the night.

Who does history remember? The laborers who burned the threshing machines, or the threshing machines themselves? The threshing machine, of course, because it advanced humanity. And in the case of today's environment, and the work place as it exists today, what will be remembered is that the Internet opened the doors of the entire world, allowing people who previously had little hope of advancing themselves beyond the restrictions of their economy and cultural differences the opportunity to suddenly embrace the fact that they are no different in fact than the very Western civilizations that have for years been the only ones at the top of the heap.

Should we embrace our brethren, or should we rail against them for becoming our competition? Many writers of today's generations are for the latter. Many writers in the US feel that their jobs are being unfairly shopped out to "paper mills" in unethical fashion, stealing jobs that should "rightfully" be theirs, and theirs alone. Such writers do not embrace humanity, they do not embrace change. They would have the world remain in repression, the only jobs existing being the ones they themselves work. They view the Internet as a threshing machine, ready to be burned in an attempt to keep evolution from occurring.

I am an advocate for the former. I met my wife specifically because the barriers of communication have been toppled with the advent of world-wide connectivity. I have been expanding my client base on a global scale, working with people from the UK, from Australia, from Taiwan, and from the US. I have met people from all of those countries, from Greece, from Italy, Germany, Sweden, and beyond. All of these people share a common purpose, a common goal: survival.

Should I alone bear the responsibility for dictating who is or isn't allowed to complete the tasks a client puts forth? How have I earned the right to do so, when my fellow writers--regardless of their location on this green Earth--are no less qualified than myself, and have no less of a right at competing for the jobs as I?

I have talked with many people in the recent weeks. I have met people in third world countries who do work for what many US writers consider pennies. Some US writers would have these jobs be eradicated because they believe it is perpetuating a system that undermines their own rates and forces them to adjust accordingly in order to be competitive. Who are they to judge what should or shouldn't be considered work, or relevant pay? If an employer pays a rate I find too low for my personal standards, I move along and find a client who pays what I want to make. The job I passed on will go to someone who needs the money, and perhaps to someone in a third world country where the USD is worth 3 times more than their local currency, allowing them to make triple what the average citizen makes. To me, the fact that such jobs exist and allow an individual the chance for opportunity supersedes my ability to judge. In much the same way I am sure there are those out there who pass over jobs I myself consider a fair wage with nothing more than a sneering glance and the thought of "I pity the poor wanker who would work a job for such pay."

One lady who posts at a community site I frequent gave a relative's position recently. He was one of those who valiantly stamps his foot down and says "I refuse to budge!". He has been unemployed for months, unable to provide for his family because his principles are outdated. His principles were those of a world before global networking, before global communication, before a global pool of employees for clients to choose from. His rates no longer apply because the market has gone on without him, has evolved beyond his comprehension while he remains mired in the muck of self-pride at the expense of his family.

As I sit here on this Sunday evening I would remind you fellow writers to think global. The world is your oyster. Global communication and global networking are key to the survival of your job, and your ability to adapt to the changes that are affecting our workplace on a daily basis. Embrace your fellow writers, regardless of where they hail from on the map. Be glad that they too can find work, even if it is at a wage you find below your present needs or standards. But do not judge, or dictate terms, or apply labels such as "ignorant" to those who are willing to work for rates you would not yourself. Be happy for the work you have, and be willing to adapt and evolve with the rest of the world.

Change is on the wind. Will you embrace the change, or stand alone in the dark, railing against the change with your sputtering torch in hand, the smoldering ashes of the threshing machine at your feet while the world moves on without you, leaving you in darkness as the flames of your torch are finally snuffed out by the wind?