If you prefer, you can listen to me read this post. Hiya 🤗 Thought it was time for a (re)introduction so I’ve written this post - the story behind Bold Types and what I’m building online. On the Wild West of freelancing, my 25+ year career, the rise of creator journalism—and choosing yourself. Also: See my About page for Club Bold info! Just reading Henry Zeffman’s post on why Labour MPs are still craving a compelling story from Starmer. Feeling frustrated that he’s not found a way to land his message. Remarkably for a politician who’s been a party leader for a long time he’s still not defined for a lot of the public. People also ask on Google: What does Keir Starmer actually believe in? Has Keir Starmer written any books? A personal newsletter would help and be a home for all his writing. I had an email the other day from a charity asking if I’d like to be a guest writer on their new Substack. “Sadly, we don’t have the funds to pay for submissions—but writers can promote their other work or organisations.” Perhaps writing about the ups and downs of being a freelance journalist and promoting your own Substack (why you decided to launch it, how it’s going etc). What do you think? Nice to be asked, and I’m keen to work with them—I like what they’re doing for media issues, but at the same time, my heart sank. Someone else asking me to work for free. I’m already doing quite a bit of pro bono work. If I printed out similar requests I’ve had over the last 25+ yrs, I could start my own stationery line. Make a paper Christmas tree or three! Median pay for freelance journos in the UK is piss poor: just £17.5K/yr—less than the minimum wage—for a typical 35-hr work week (ALCS/NUJ). Payment rates have been stagnant for YEARS. There are no pay rises or promotions. “As freelancers we just get paid the same rate. I think most freelancers are afraid to ask for more in case they aren’t commissioned anymore.” Plus: kills fees, payment on publication, implicit contracts etc, which are hard to challenge solo. The next day, I read Christina Patterson’s post on the slow death of journalism - and the fast death of my career, which struck a chord with me. “Asking us to write for free is like asking an electrician to rewire your house in exchange for a smile.” I restacked it on Notes and mentioned the email. I think it’s a huge cheek for anyone to ask anyone who isn’t a friend to do anything for free. I am trying to learn to say no, unless I’m pretty sure there’s something in it that will make it worth my while. We can spend our entire lives doing unpaid work and meanwhile the bills have to be paid. My first unpaid gig was on X-Campus, my uni mag, to get some clippings—arts & culture stuff, which I loved (clue #1). After graduating, I moved back home for a bit to figure out my next move—wasn’t sure whether I wanted to do broadcast or print journalism. I joined the startup Radio Mansfield as ‘community news editor’ and got some radio skills while the MD applied for a permanent licence. By night, I was waitressing at Center Parcs to make ends meet. That year, I wrote to 100 production companies looking for work as a runner and eventually got offered a gig on Art Attack! at the Maidstone Studios. £80/wk (my bedsit was £40/wk), so a low-key lifestyle, but I was learning the ropes and meeting people. It led to other work—a kids’ show called WOW! (met the Spice Girls, just coming up), Endurance, Masterchef (didn’t see anything dodgy). Then I got offered a FT role at Wizja TV, a new Polish station, as a programming assistant at £13K/yr. Got my head down, but I was bored to tears working in Acquisitions. Lots of admin, chasing and nothing creative—but it gave me stability and a routine, while I was studying journalism on the side. I kept writing and saving so I could quit and go travelling—figured I’d Wwoof my way round the world, live/work on farms and look for media opps in the cities. I worked at Foxtel in Sydney for a few months (more programming!) and got some freelance work in Perth with Travel Maps Australia, a budget travel mag. A road trip to the Pinnacles and some market research, interviewing backpackers in hostels. My first foray into magazine journalism and travel writing for niche communities and it sparked something in me (clue #2). When I got back to the UK, I applied for a scholarship in magazine journalism with Emap in Peterborough and got it! (the work/travel adventure paid off). I was so excited, I didn’t care it was only £12K/yr—I’d manage somehow. Six months with Country Walking, so I’d be learning on the job, and it might lead to something permanent. This was 2000/1 so digital revolution pre-social media and most of the mags were launching websites. CW were fully staffed and didn’t really need me, so I went to work on the website launch with the ex-editor who’d moved over to digital. I liked the tiny team start-up vibe. She was open to ideas, didn’t micro-manage and let me get on with it (clue #3 - I’m not good with authority). There was no job on CW at the end of it, but I could move to another title at Emap Active. I was a bit restless though and really wanted to work on women’s mags or The Face so that meant moving to London – Media City, where everything was happening. Mad really - Peterborough is no distance and much cheaper to live, but I wanted to be IN IT meeting people. They weren’t thrilled I was buggering off but helped me get some work on Here’s Health. A shoutout to my friend Natasha from Wizja TV for letting me stay in her box room in Waterloo while I found my feet and did work experience. It gave me the confidence to take the leap, and I couldn’t have done it otherwise. I spent the next five years in London working myself into dust—freelance journalism, copywriting, comms/PR, ghostwriting. I found the women’s mags competitive and a bit snooty, but liked the culture & health stuff so did more of that. Spent 18 months at a corporate fraud agency doing pre-employment checks, creating resources, and rifling through bin bags! Still journalism but better paid and more stable—I even had a pension. Not sure why I left… well, that’s another story. A mate was trying to launch a sex mag for women and asked me to write a piece on orgasms. I had amenorrhoea and was struggling with vaginismus, which was getting me down. So, an opportunity to go deeper and figure out what was going on. I guess my niche found me. Writing about it all was my way of healing myself. I joined the NUJ, Women Writers’ Network and Women in Journalism and started helping out. Ran events in nice hotels for WIJ freelancers to bring women together—I needed that. Freelancing is lonely so it’s crucial to have a support network (clue #4). I’m still working with the NUJ and am grateful for their financial support during Covid when I fell through the cracks. I left London in 2006 when I pregnant with Julieta. This was peak mamasphere, as blogging was evolving and social media taking off. Women started the creator movement - Heather Armstrong, Dooce. Catherine Connors, Her Bad Mother. Motherhood warts n all. They paved the way and talked about taboo topics - yet were vilified for it by the media. I started my own sex & culture blog, Rude and threw myself into that. Got lots of energy back from it, but struggled to monetise it on WordPress. I wasn’t running paid subs or paywalling—just Google Adsense and sponsorships, which were sporadic. I had sex toys coming out of my ears, but I didn’t have a sustainable business model to keep paying writers. I had a knowledge gap and a lack of biz skills (not part of J-school, uni or talked about on the job) so I was learning from my peers. When I did start paywalling much later, I got backlash from a male writer who said, “I think you’re making a big mistake.” The blogging paid off in other ways though and helped me land publishing deals. I wrote more letters to agents (I swear by the LOI – it works!), found one and got commissioned to write a book on orgasms for Hamlyn. This was Belle de Jour, Scarlet, Amora Museum, Shades of Grey era so something in the air… They commissioned me to write two more. All the book deals were flat fee contracts minus the agent’s 15% so pretty modest. I got a wee advance but carried on working while I wrote them. They did a bit of publicity, but I was expected to do most of the work—research, writing, marketing, socials, events, organising book signings. I wrote a few more books for different publishers including Vibe, a Norwegian outfit who then went bust so my Kama Sutra guide never got published, and I didn’t see a penny. My debt collector couldn’t do much as the contract was outside the UK (will never do that again). Median earnings for UK authors was £7K/yr in 2022 (ALCS), so it’s part of your portfolio career—if you’re a non-famous, non-fiction writer, anyway. I get a small amount of royalties for secondary uses from ALCS and PLR every year so worth signing up with them. By my late 30s/40s, I was feeling burned out with creating content online and a bit trapped in my niche, as I was writing under my name. I didn’t want to be a sex & relationship therapist like Sarah Berry or a presenter like Tracey Cox. I thought about becoming a dominatrix (great money!) and writing a book about that, but I’d need to be in London—couldn’t turn my flat into a dungeon and I didn’t want to work locally. I’d outgrown it, but I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do next. I remember a journo from The Telegraph calling me for a quote and saying, “what’s left to say about sex in your 40s?” She needed a new angle lol. So did I. I found it hard to let go though—Rude was my second baby. I’d put my heart and soul into it, built a digital mag I was proud of, and paid writers. Giving up felt like failure so I kept goin
