It was 2009, and I was at one of my first in-person networking meetings, hoping to scare up some new freelance writing clients.
As the economy went down, nearly every editor I worked for either got laid off or the publication folded altogether.
The one big copywriting client I had, that was billing $2,000+ a month like clockwork, sacked my editor and decided to hire an agency to develop their content.
I needed to replace a big hunk of revenue, fast.
So I tried networking
So there I was, at an evening get-together hosted by my small-town Chamber of Commerce, drink in hand, trying to figure out this whole networking thing.
I went up to one well-groomed, middle-aged blonde who had on a killer business skirt suit and heels. She looked like she knew what she was doing.
We chatted about her business a while.
Then, she asked me a simple question that changed my life.
Here’s what made my worldview shift
“Who’s your ideal client?” she asked casually.
I knew immediately that this must be a standard networking question.Â People you meet networking want to know who you’re looking for, so they can refer you (so that in return, you’ll love and refer them).
The problem was, I’d never really thought about it. I’d had a fairly serendipitous career up the downturn, mostly taking whatever gigs came my way.
Who was my ideal client, anyway?
“I don’t really know,” I stupidly stammered.
But when I went home, I started thinking about it.
I had plenty of experience and clips. Why was I at a tiny-town Chamber meeting, hanging out with solo accountants and people who sold Pampered Chef?
They weren’t my client. I had already written for national magazines and a $1 billion global company.
From that day on, I set my sights higher. I hopped on the ferry and headed into Seattle.
I tried different networking groups, and paid close attention to what sort of businesses and publications I found there.
Eventually, I found good networking groups, where my ideal clients hung out. I met editors of huge-circulation publications, and editors for top companies’ websites. I got a client that sent me thousands of work over the next several years.
In short order, I replaced my lost income from that fired editor — and much more.
As I hung around better-quality clients, my mindset about earning started to change, too.
When I started, I figured if I was lucky, I could maybe replace my staff-writing income of $50,000-$60,000 a year.
But swimming in that higher-quality pool of clients, I started to see how huge and potentially lucrative the freelance-writing marketplace really is. Some of these larger companies had tons of work they freelanced out.
It made me realize something big:
Freelancers earning potential is unlimited.
I could earn more. I should earn more!
So I set a goal of earning more each year — and made it happen.
Hang out with better-quality clients, and you won’t just find better gigs. It can change your whole outlook on how big you could take this.
Who’s your ideal client, and where do they hang out? Leave a comment and let us know.