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You know me as James Chartrand of Men with Pens , a regular Copyblogger contributor for just shy of two years. The welfare application was on my kitchen table. I hated looking at it. I had two young daughters to take care of. I was single and alone, having left an unhealthy relationship, and I was living in a crappy, tiny apartment. It was ironic. I had formal education, diplomas, brains, and skills, and life had been good. As a last-ditch resort, I turned to the internet.
There must be something I could do. There must be jobs out there. I was a good writer. I signed up with the company, thinking I was so lucky to have this chance to pull myself out of the mess.
I struggled to get gigs — there was tough competition from more experienced hustlers. When I did manage to grab a job before someone else could, I worked hard and wrote well. I wanted to do my best. I was treated like crap, too. Bossed around, degraded, condescended to, with jibes made about my having to work from home. I quickly learned not to mention I had kids. I quickly learned not to mention I worked from my kitchen table.
So I started looking for better gigs and clients, now that I knew there was writing work to be had. I scoured Craigslist and job sites and gig auctions and sent applications to all sorts of people. And it worked. I started getting real clients, for real pay. I was earning more, feeling good. I even began hiring people to work with me as a team. I had high-quality skills and a good education.
