For The Love of Freelancing @ 60!

Part One: Lurking in the Shadows

I turned 60 this spring and found myself caught in a wave of retrospection—mostly about my 30+ years in business, much of it spent in perpetual self-employment.

I’ve had a cracking career (as the preamble below will tell you), and I’m not done yet—still seeking new opportunities and challenges, wherever in the world they may be.

I’m feeling fabulously optimistic about this next decade, and it’s with a sense of worldly wisdom that I’m using this milestone to share my take on:

  • Ageism
  • Good-and-bad-client-ism
  • Bringing-up-kids-while-working-ism
  • And what-I-should-have-done-but-didn’t-ism (pushing it, I know)

It’s a three-parter, so strap yourself in. Once I started thinking, I couldn’t stop. I hope this helps inspire or guide someone who’s new to this working-for-yourself malarkey—or thinking about it.

For context, here’s my story:

  • Aged 22 to 24: Fannied about in London, temping for TV & film companies.
  • 24 to 28: Worked for two PR agencies in Bristol. Fell in love, got married.
  • At 28: Went freelance doing a mix of PR, marketing & event management.
  • Had two babies, kept working, moved to Wales, got offered shedloads of work, so employed people.
  • Aged 45: Got divorced (not to be recommended), closed business, and set up a new one focusing on the bit I enjoyed most—copywriting.
  • Came up with the name Good With Words (genius—says it all really), attracted a business partner, worked hard, but laughed a lot for over a decade. Commissioned freelancers and hired staff as and when needed.
  • Remarried (surprising), at 55—mid-Covid—we moved to France and I became employed by the agency I’d previously co-owned.
  • At 58: Found myself freelancing again.
Lurking in the Shadows

Coming back into the lone freelance scene nearly two years ago, it was clear so much had changed since the early 90s when I first bravely stepped forth.

Back then, all I needed was a car, a computer, some business stationery, a pencil skirt, and the gumption to ditch the 9 to 5 for a life of self-employment, mostly working locally.

This time round, I felt a tad trepidatious, and so the first thing I did was lurk in the shadows of LinkedIn and observe—quietly. There, I discovered a mostly young, noisy, confident, global tribe which, although highly competitive (increasingly so thanks to AI), is also reassuringly connected.

I’m Spartacus! No, I’m Spartacus!

Today’s copywriters (there are loads—all over the world), although in competition—hence the Spartacus reference—talk to each other. They produce magazines to share ideas, coach and encourage, organise social events, and host podcasts. It’s impressive and inclusive.

Sophie Cross edits Freelancer Magazine and, with the support of fellow freelancers, it aims to educate and connect. You can even dial in on a Thursday morning and co-work with other like-minded peeps.

Another highly experienced chap, David McGuire, runs “Hobnob” chit-chat sessions online on behalf of the ProCopywriters network. I’ve yet to dunk my biscuit in, but plan to soon.

Jobs Worth

Although this well-connected, well-meaning community makes freelancing less lonely, it’s still a bit of a bun fight when it comes to finding work. A job post goes up and within hours, 140+ applicants are clamouring for it. I’ve gone from “I’ve got this” to “ah well, never mind.”

Beyond the “pick me!” element, what also strikes me is the energy and confidence of younger writers—and how frequently they post and publish.

Clearly, they’re unafraid to raise their heads above the parapet (have always hated that expression but can’t think of anything else) and tell others how to write. How very dare they? I thought initially. But reading some of their posts, it’s fair enough—especially when it comes to social media. I do learn from them.

It’s a Wonderful Word

As my career timeline shows, I chose to focus on copywriting later on, because it gave me the biggest buzz.

In the early days, working mostly for what are now called SMEs (so many terms like this didn’t exist then), I was asked to do ‘marketing type things’ and said yes to everything.

I ran PR campaigns, organised huge events (complete with walkie-talkies), even made a TV ad with Welsh rugby legend Gareth Edwards and a giant panda. I inadvertently became a full-service agency, and the volume of work required support staff.

But copywriting has low overheads and, thanks to the ‘Tinterweb,’ it can be done from anywhere (sitting or lying down). It suited me then and still does now.

What’s a Copywriter?

I still get asked this:

  • “Oh, so you’re a lawyer?”
  • “Err, no—it’s spelled differently.”
  • “Then you write books?”
  • “Again, no.”

In my early days, no one really knew what copywriting was—and neither did I!

There were no courses or degrees. Working in PR or advertising gave different opportunities to write, whether for paid-for print, advertorial, or what I’d call proper PR—trying to place a piece or sell in a story, then write the feature.

We didn’t call it short or long form. It wasn’t storytelling or brand narrative. You just wrote to the audience. Tone of voice? That wasn’t a thing either—it came naturally.

I worked in Bristol then and remember a couple who worked as a team—he did the design, she did the writing, always to an agency brief. It felt strange, like one couldn’t function without the other.

My first proper piece was for Christies Fitted Bedrooms. Part of the PR brief was organising a sales incentive—weekend in Paris for seven couples. Most were from Wales, and if you know Welsh women… they like to party!

After an eye-opening weekend (I was only 23), my boss asked me to write Christies’ internal newsletter. I did, keeping the debauchery in but subtle. My boss came out of her office chuckling. That’s when I realised the power of words—and so my career began.

What Makes a Good Client?

I’ve had loads. Really—loads.

But a good client is polite and provides a well-defined brief: what they need, by when, and for what purpose. Clear communication from the start plus speedy feedback makes all the difference.

A good client knows the difference between copy and content, editorial and advertising. They value a copywriter—and don’t assume they can do it better themselves because they got an English A level.

They also pay on time. Crucial.

Empathy and mutual respect—especially in meetings—go a long way. Two former clients spring to mind: bright, experienced, and well, just nice to work for.

“You make a good point,” Hana Graham (Pen Underwriting and EQi) would say.

“That’s an excellent question—I’m glad you asked that,” was a favourite of David Beresford (Serco Consulting).

They made me feel like an equal, not just a supplier.

Knowing Your Worth

Still working on this one. For me, experience doesn’t seem to count for much. Imposter syndrome is real—and, from what I see on LinkedIn, pretty common among other writers, regardless of age.

My theory? We care too much. That desire to write the perfect sentence. (AI can help here, right? More on that in a later blog.)

Ageism is also rife.

I’m hugely experienced, young at heart, and—as Helen Mirren says—age is just a number (and she was never very good at maths). I’m with her on that one.

Recently, I was a little insulted to hear a client wondered if I might be “too old.” Too old for what?

I may not be able to talk like the TikTok crowd, but when it comes to B2B copy, professional and well-written usually cuts it.

And having worked for countless sectors, I’m quick at spotting client pain points—and writing to them.

What’s Next?

So, life-learning mutterings, musings, reflections—over (for now).

Stay tuned for Parts Two and Three, where I explore themes like:

  • Being a working parent
  • How to look after number one
  • And whether carving out a niche actually pays off

Call to Action to Call Me!

Clearly, I’m still copywriting. So, if you’re looking for a stalwart professional with wit, wisdom, and a menopausal floaty dress (my pencil skirt days are long gone), get in touch: bron@broncomm.com