Now, where did I leave off … In my previous post on this topic, I grumbled about the misconceptions concerning my chosen profession like the 30-year-old curmudgeon that I am.

You didn’t think I’d stop at three misconceptions, did you? Surely, you underestimated the power of my bitterness. This time, I tackle the sneering judgments passed by those unsympathetic creative black holes who have no respect at all for anything rhyming with “pre-dance biter.”

Myth #4: “Freelance writer” is code for “unemployed and delusional.”

When you tell a writer that their job “doesn’t count,” you’re undercutting their professional worth. And just being a jerk. Would it be appropriate for me to stop by your office unannounced and expect you to take a few hours off and come shopping with me? What about if I approached you at your desk and tried to engage you in conversation about laundry?

When I’m working, surprise! I’m working. I’m not hunched over my computer trying to bang out marketing copy for fun. (Even though, yes, I do love what I do.) And yet, my friends/family/boyfriend/mailman/g-chat buddies seem to believe that because I’m not sitting in a stuffy cube farm, surrounded by khaki and potbellies and general discontent, I’m not actually working. Not really.

Myth #5: Freelance writers sit around in their pajamas.

Like any overworked and underpaid career woman, I relish the comfortable cotton embrace of sweatpants at the end of a tedious day. However, at the start of the day, I get dressed – just like real, live people! I even have a designated work space! With a chair! And sometimes, if I’m feeling sassy, I’ll wash my face in the morning! It’s the little things.

Myth #6: Writers are satisfied earning a byline instead of a paycheck.

There seems to be a general misconception that we writers are simply narcissistic simpletons who will be tickled piglet pink by seeing our name in print. I’m not going to pay my rent with bylines, kids. In fact, the only time my byline is at all relevant to my bills is when I write it at the bottom of a check.

I once had a prospective client who was utterly flabbergasted when I quoted her my hourly rate; not because it’s outrageously high, but because I was going to charge her for my time. Writing is a professional skill, just like plumbing. Sure, you could try to save money by fixing your broken toilet yourself. But in all likelihood, you’re going to do a less-than-adequate job and you’ll eventually need to call in a professional. Who will charge you money.

There. Now you understand that freelance writing is a job to be taken seriously, and not a pithy and adorable little hobby. Hopefully, should you meet me at a party, your remarks about my chosen profession will no longer prompt me to fantasize about your demise. Hey, that rhymed. Maybe I should be a poet. That’s probably totally easy.

When Sara Faith Alterman is not tied up with her own client work, she chips in as a copywriter with The Hired Pens. Ask for her by name!

I’ve spent nearly 10 years cultivating a vast and varied cache of writing experience. I’ve written PR and marketing copy, and I’ve worked as a journalist, a lifestyle columnist, a film critic, a comedy writer. I’ve written for print, for broadcast, for the Web. I have published two novels and am working on a third.

Along the way, I’ve also compiled a stinky stockpile of neuroses and insecurities about my professional worth. Why? Because despite all my accomplishments, when I tell people I’m a writer, it inevitably prompts one of the following reactions:

1)     A blank stare, some blinking, more staring, then: “Oh. Cool.”

2)     Some eye-rolling, plus knowing glances exchanged with a third party. “Right, but what do you do for a living? Like, to make money?”

3)     Skepticism. “A real one? Where have you been published?”

4)     Visible perking up, followed by an acutely oblivious insult like: “I’ve always wanted to be a writer. It seems like it’d be a fun way to make some extra money. I got A’s on all of my papers in college, so I know I’d be good at it.”

There are two flavors of mythology about freelance writing: first, what wannabe writers think that their idealized career will entail; and second, how non-writers seem to regard writers. Namely, as chromosome-deficient monkeys throwing words against a wall.

In this two-part post, I’ll debunk these common misconceptions, beginning with three myths propagated by the wannabes:

Myth #1: You’re a great speller; hence, a great writer.

Copywriting is an art; it’s nuanced and precise. For me, there are few greater pleasures than concocting the choicest lingual morsels, molding the perfect phrase to describe a product or a client. My affair with words is torrid, as painstaking and heart-wrenching as any love/hate relationship.

It once took me three hours to write a single sentence for a major corporation’s marketing campaign, because it had to be just so, and I couldn’t quite get the recipe right. It’s not because I’m dumb or didn’t memorize enough SAT words; it’s because copywriting can be excruciatingly difficult.

Myth #2: Writing projects should be fueled by wanton creative passion.

“Write what you know?” Please. I once took a gig writing copy for a cryogenic facility. The only thing I knew about cryogenics was that somehow, somewhere, Walt Disney’s corpsicle was floating around in a tank like a pickled egg. But because I was willing to do a little research, and because I can adapt my writing style, I did a decent job. Well, eventually.

That job involved a lot of crying, rewriting, more crying, whiskey, more crying and then more rewriting. And then more whiskey. You know, as a reward. The ability to write in a variety of styles about a variety of topics is an invaluable skill.

Myth #3: The writer’s word is bond.

A truly great writer is one who can not only write terrific copy, but can take constructive criticism and use it to improve their work.

As a writer, you will be edited. Period. You will be edited not only by people who know what they’re doing, but also by others who majored in English 20 years ago and therefore believe they are silver-fingered masters of wordsmithery. Their writing and editing will suck. It’s inevitable. And yet, they’re your client. They are, unfortunately, your boss, however fleeting the project.

There will always be some yahoo waiting in the wings to take a hacksaw to your utterly brilliant body of copywriting. Can’t deal with edits? Start a blog.

When Sara Faith Alterman is not tied up with her own client work, she chips in as a copywriter with The Hired Pens. Ask for her by name!

When you tell people you’re a freelancer writer, they immediately make a few assumptions: 1) you spend the whole day in your pajamas, and 2) “freelance writing” is really code for “unemployed.” I say, fine: Let them think this. Who needs the competition? The truth is, if you’re smart about it, you can make a lot more money working for yourself than working for someone else. Here are a few tips to help you along.

Tip 1: Create a division between work and home. It’s helpful to have a designated work space – ideally, an office or studio space outside of your home. If this isn’t possible, a home office with a door you can close is your next best option. Don’t have a room to set aside for an office? Go to your local Pier 1, buy a Chinese screen and section off a corner of a room. Voilà: instant office.

Tip 2: Take off your pajamas. No, I’m not saying you should work naked, but dress like you’re going to the office. Because, guess what? You are. Even if your “office” is your kitchen table, putting on regular work clothes gets you into the right mind-set. It also makes it less embarrassing when the UPS man shows up in the middle of the afternoon.

Tip 3: Get to work on time. You’ve cut out the commute, which means you’ve bought yourself a little time. So go ahead and have that extra cup of coffee; but it’s nice for your family, friends, clients and personal sanity if you keep at least relatively normal business hours.

Tip 4: Don’t watch TV in the middle of the day. Or go to the movies or do your laundry. You’re working, so work. However, occasional naps are perfectly acceptable and a great way to remind yourself that while you might not have technical support or a supply closet, your life is still pretty awesome.

Tip 5: But do go out to lunch. The writing life, especially the freelance writing life, can be isolating. And isolation leads to one thing: insanity. So set times for human contact helps, like lunch dates with clients or your fellow independently employed cohorts. For extra points – and probably extra business, too – join a business networking group.

There are a lot of other things you can do to be successful, like actually being a good writer, meeting deadlines and not annoying your clients. But I’ll leave those for you to figure out. In the meantime, put down that remote and get to work.