So since I kicked myself up the ass, told myself to get my act together and cobbled together two pages about Just How Amazing I am (otherwise known as a CV), I’ve already got two opportunities come a’knocking.
It’s writing for financial services, oil&gas, banking and property industries, which sounds very serious and important of course until I realise that I don’t actually know anything about anything here. Yes, really absolutely honest-to-goodness nothing. It’s going to be fun to see how I blag my way through this. But okay, I learn fast, and there’s this thing called Google and perhaps if I pour out a nice whiskey and proffer a nice big bag of crisps to my father, he can be bribed to teach me Everything You Need to Know about Corporate Finance / Financial Services / The Business World.
I spoke to one of the writers from one of the writing jobs today. He told me what the job was about, I told him that well, to be honest, I don’t actually know anything about financial-anything and oh by the way, I’m not looking for anything full time okay, I’m only looking to freelance.
I must have said that more than I meant to because he finally said, “You’ve said the word freelance many times in the last 4 minutes so I’m guessing that time is very important to you.” Then I launch into this big spiel about how I’ve just come from working crazy hours, and I’m on a break okay, for about 3 months, and while I’d like to work a bit, I’d really like to still have time off and time for myself and I’m going on and on and on until I realise that yes, I have again said the words ‘freelance’ and ‘time’ about 10 times each in the next set of 4 minutes. I sound just very slightly traumatised, obsessed and crazy.
But it’s okay. He just laughs and he understands and he went into freelancing for the same reasons. Okay good. I got past that one.
A few hours later, he sends one of those long emails that only writers write to let me know that he and the CEO of the company had read through the writing samples I’d sent them and that (yay) “Between the two of us, we thought your articles were awesome”. So I’m all “yes!” like the baby in that meme and mentally dancing about like this one really cool girl in a frilly red dress on my whatsapp emoticons (oh no, I really am this sad).
I suddenly have this vision of myself as this incredible financial journalist, the kind that is invited to be on impressive panels interviewed by fancy global business channels that all 5-star hotels have. The kind that flies to Hong Kong and Japan and Wall Street to do features that will make or break the economy. The kind that gets to wear those really shiny black pumps that make you walk very seriously and trip-trap across a floor like they mean some mean business.
Then (uh oh), in the next line, he also writes, “So what we hope to do now is to get you to write a test article on any consumer finance topic as you see fit.”
Any consumer finance topic. Hah.
But. Well. You see. TheThingIs. What does that mean exactly? I think he may as well have just asked me to write something (anything!) on quantum mechanics or the inner workings of an early 20th century car engine.
(Could I not, maybe, just write about shiny black pumps instead?)
Yes, this is going to be interesting, isn’t it?