Tips for Becoming an Online Writer from a Writer Who Makes 10k a Month

A lot of people are trying to get into the online writing industry. And it isn’t hard. I say this to be genuine: I’m not trying to sell you a drop-shipping scheme or an affiliate marketing site. You might not make thousands right off the bat. But it’s not hard to make a few dollars.

I started writing online about 8 years ago. I immediately started making around $6,000 to $7,000 a month. “This is so easy,” I thought. “Why isn’t anyone else doing it?”

But, when encountering the overall writing community, I got blasted. First, people didn’t believe that I was making that much. Then, people thought I was “cheating the game” somehow; hiring other people to do the work for me. Next, they thought I was charging rates they could only imagine — when I was actually charging less than they were.

Finally, I got blasted for charging lower rates.

Here’s why I’m giving you credentials…

Because the truth is my advice is almost recklessly opposite of the advice that I was given. Looking back on my career, I think most of the advice being put out there is by people who have never seriously tried to do this as a primary career.

This isn’t going to work for everyone. But this is what worked for me:

1. I stopped trying to diversify.

I realized early on that I was spending hours chasing leads when I had jobs right in front of me. I developed a “grab what you have” philosophy that’s actually worked out very well. Yes, a job can disappear at any time; a client can leave. But they can’t take away the money you already earned.

2. I charged what I needed to.

There’s a whole philosophy here about “not undercharging” because you “know your worth.” I wanted to make $100 an hour so I charged at about $100 an hour. Other people are going to tell you to charge way, way more because otherwise, you aren’t a “professional.” These people are making $500 a month while retired.

3. I worked on my speed.

I type at 160 WPM. That’s not an accident. There’s an advantage to typing that fast; you start to “think” differently. You’re no longer thinking about an outline then laboriously typing it out. You think through your hands. Yes, quantity vs. quality. But the truth is that most people on the web want quantity.

4. I didn’t wait until I was “ready.”

I started going for jobs when I needed jobs, not when I was ready with a full portfolio. I definitely developed a portfolio over time. But it’s easy to psych yourself out and feel “not ready” for certain jobs when you already have all the credentials.

5. I leaned on my tools.

I use all sorts of tools. Grammarly is a great one — if you keep in mind that not all their suggestions are accurate. This vastly cuts down on my revision and editing process because it catches things that I simply can’t. A one-person team is going to eventually have visual fatigue.

6. I only worked with people I liked.

There’s this antagonistic relationship between writers and their clients that I don’t quite get. If I have a client I don’t like, I cut them loose. But when I see communications between writers and clients, it’s almost resentful. If you’re not enjoying working with someone — you don’t have to.

7. I didn’t try any slick tricks.

Here’s the other end of it. A lot of writers try to figure out some “trick” to making more money, like outsourcing to other writers or using speech-to-text program. It never works. You waste more time trying to set up the “trick” than you would if you just sat down and wrote. The brutal truth is that if you put the time in, you get better. That’s the trick.

8. I wasn’t precious about it — but I also didn’t just give up.

Sure, everyone wants to be writing fiction in a coffee shop. But if you’re “precious” about your work and wait for the “perfect topic,” it’ll never come. At the same time, writing about something you absolutely hate is going to kill you inside. I struck a balance: I write primarily about technology. If you cringe when seeing a topic, just decline it. You’ll spend more time fighting with yourself than is productive.

9. I genuinely enjoy what I do.

I like it. I have fun doing it. I’ve seen writers liken writing to the process of pulling worms out of their soul and I think to myself, “Huh. Maybe they should do something else.” If anything you’re doing is like pulling worms out of your soul, you took the wrong path in the Choose Your Own Adventure. We can’t whimsically and romantically die of consumption anymore; now it’s just called alcoholism.

My career isn’t perfect: You can do it better.

I’m not sure if it’s ADHD, chronic anxiety, depression, or just that I live in 2021, but I spend a lot of my time struggling to function. This is how much I’m able to make despite the fact that half my brain is constantly fighting the other half in some sort of divine neural storm. If you have even a modicum of professionalism, you can do it, too.