Her fingers grew numb as she rapidly tapped in a staccato-like fashion on the keyboard of her laptop. It was a daily routine. Up every morning, review email, then hours of relentless typing. The post would be her twelfth for the day and still another three to go. However, the amount was unimportant to her. It was about words and ideas. Writing engaging, informed and clean copy for her clients’ blogs. It was about the metrics, page views, and Google rankings. Nothing more. Nothing less.
Her clients were blogs that paid for content. And that’s what she provided. She posted on various sites ranging from health and gardening to finance and politics. Blogs needed compelling content to drive traffic to their sites. Good content. Content to grow their sites.
As each of her clients was unique so was her style. It made no difference to her on what site she was posting. It was always something new.
As she posted on different blogs her persona would change.Sometimes she was a housewife posting about her child’s first tooth. Then she was a retiree seeking advice on an IRA. Or maybe a cold sufferer inquiring about the latest treatments. Each post was unique. Each client was different. That’s what made the work worthwhile.
She did not start out to be a professional blogger. That was not the way it was supposed to be. She wanted to write, to teach, to inspire. She wanted to express herself and be creative.
Yet four years of college, $100,000 in tuition and a National Merit Scholarship meant very little when the degree was in 19th Century British Literature. She needed money. She needed to work. Prospective employers were not seeking authorities in Bronte or Dickens.
Professional blogging just seemed to be the right thing. “After all”, she thought, “how else can I earn money and love what I do?”
Is her weakness giving up her dream and selling out?