It’s been just over three years since I got laid off. That’s nuts to me. When I was told that the company would be better off without me, I figured I’d be out of the 9-to-5 grind for about a year. Clearly, I was wrong. In these three years, my life has pretty much remained the same – except my title.
For the first few months, when people asked, I said I was “an out-of-work copywriter.” People would tilt their heads and say things like, “How you holding up?” But as the months wore on, and the next job wasn’t coming (and freelance projects weren’t either), I was simply “unemployed.” I was receiving unemployment benefits, so the title seemed appropriate.
I learned quickly that how I referred to myself changed the conversations I had with others. By telling people I was an out-of-work copywriter, they understood, they commiserated. The economy is bad, and I was just a victim. Once I started referring to myself as unemployed, people acted like I was a lazy slacker who simply wasn’t trying get a job.
Eventually freelance projects started picking up, so “unemployed” was no longer accurate. And “out-of-work copywriter” didn’t seem right. So a redefinition was in order. I started saying that I was “self-employed,” but by the looks on people’s faces, I think they pictured me stuffing envelopes in my kitchen.
It was then that I became quite simply “a freelancer.” I would’ve referred to myself as a freelance copywriter, but I was doing more than just copy. So it became just plain “freelancer.”
Over time, I’ve learned that some folks (even those I’ve done work for) think “freelancer” is another word for slacker. So I’m thinking of starting to refer to myself as a “consultant.” I considered “creative consultant,” but there’s something about smashing those two words together that sounds shady.
Consultants get book deals. They do speaking engagements. Consultants are respected the world over (and yes, hated in some circles). If you’ve got a problem, there’s a good chance there’s a consultant who’s willing to come and help you solve it.
Of course, my experience with consultants has most often been with the other kind, the ones I’ve always referred to as “grenade tossers.” They are invited in (and paid handsomely) by senior management to identify and fix problems. So they come in, spend a few weeks talking to people, and say “Do this, this, this, and this.” The suggestions always take a while to implement, just long enough, in fact, for the check to clear. And of course, the consultants don’t wait around to see if everything blows up.
So perhaps it’s time. Anybody need an advertising consultant?