Absolute Write - Back to home

Subscribe to the Absolute Write Newsletter and get

 the Agents! Agents! Agents! report free! Click here.

 

 Win a 1-year subscription to Writer's Digest by subscribing to Absolute Markets-- all paying markets for your writing. Click here.

 

Confessions of a Keyword Writer
By Sarah Skilton

 


Thursday afternoon.  A new weekly message arrives from my employer. He needs twenty 200-word articles on his desk by Sunday.  It'll be a stretch, but I can manage it.  Oh, and did I mention each article must use the keyword "volcanologist" combined with one of the fifty states, as in "volcanologist Alaska," which is a phrase that will never, ever, in any context, make sense?  My sister laughed so hard when I told her this I feared she might crack a rib.  Why would I spend a single hour churning out this claptrap, let alone several hours per week?

Well, for one thing: cold, hard (PayPal) cash.  You may have heard of it.  Then again, if you're a freelancer like me, the concept of money may be something you only recognize from fairy tales or hushed rumors. I make 60-90 dollars per week from these strange articles, which isn't bad because they require minimal effort (though at times maximum will power.)

Am I proud of my articles?  Let's just say I don't mind giving up all rights the second I reach the mandatory word count.

Sometimes the client deliberately misspells the keyword phrase, knowing the average Googler will search for it that way.  It galls me to incorporate misspelled words throughout the piece (sometimes as many as 15-22 times per article), but I grit my teeth and do it, because that's what my employer is paying me to do.  As long as the keyword phrases appear with the required frequency and I manage to string together enough sentences to justify the article's existence, my PayPal account gets fuller.

Besides the infamous "volcanologist Alaska" series, in which I actually used a pun based on the city of Juneau, I've also written about such disparate topics as diaper fetishes in adults (don't ask), endometriosis, bad credit, christening gowns, and "vampire contact lens manufacturing." (No, really, don't ask.)

I used to worry that this experience would somehow permanently mar my ability to write.  Because how would intentional spelling errors and constant keyword-counting help me “improve” my craft?  They're more likely to trigger a latent obsessive compulsive disorder.  But because the articles are so short, I'm learning to zero in on a subject quickly, to get the point across immediately, and condense big ideas into manageable nibbles.   Perhaps the random bouts of research will shoot me off toward a path of topics I would never have otherwise pursued, or even lead to more thorough discourses in which a byline would be a blessing, not a curse.

It's a challenge to write 30 different articles about the same topic. And there is certainly a peculiar challenge to making ridiculous topics seem normal-- or at least of general interest to people who aren't doing, say, an Internet search using keywords. This skill may prove useful in years to come, when I'm asked to edit or completely re-work a piece. The strict Sunday deadlines force me to focus, organize my time, and buckle down.  Most importantly, the work reminds me that writing is exactly that: work.  A job.  Not all of my assignments will be fun or even interesting, but I still have to get them done on time.  So for that day or that hour when I'm typing up a storm, I'm a writer.  Someone's waiting for my words and I have to deliver.

I'd like to think I'm not completely kowtowing to The Man.  In my network marketing articles, for example, I warn readers about pyramid schemes instead of simply touting the technique as a glorious, infallible money-maker.  Though I feel obligated to sprinkle a little personality into the articles, my employer honestly doesn't care either way.  He'll only send something back to me if I forget to save it as a plain text document, not if I split infinitives, disregard subject-verb agreement or write mind-numbingly dull prose.

I don't know how much longer I'll continue at this gig.  I do know that while I'm querying, submitting speculative fiction, and working on various labors of love, it's comforting to receive a weekly stipend. Sometimes that's all I need to keep going, to keep aiming higher and a bit higher after that.


Sarah lives in Los Angeles where she previously worked in television production and currently attempts to merge the professional blood enemies of writing and modeling.  She has written voice over scripts, Hollywood columns, short fiction, and personal essays for CD, print and online publications. To jump on the Sarah bandwagon, head to www.moviebytes.com/writers/projects.cfm?siteID=568.

 

Google
 

Web
Absolute Classes
Absolute Write

Sponsored links

Ring binders

 

 

 

Make a Real Living as a Freelance Writer!

How to find a book publisher

 

Home

Text on this site Copyright © 1998-2007 Absolute Write, all rights reserved.
Please contact the authors if you'd like to reprint articles on this site.  All copyrights are retained by original authors.  And plagiarizers will be rounded up, handcuffed, and stuck into a very small and humid room wherein they must listen to Barney sing the "I Love You, You Love Me" song over and over again.

writers writing software