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Hiya Reader— The question I get the most from teachers isn’t what you’d think. They're not always looking for the step-by-step breakdown of how I got from THERE to HERE. They don’t ask about whether my colleagues or principal knew what I was doing. The thing people most want to know is: How do I know if I can be successful at this copywriting thing?For me, it actually wasn’t a big dramatic experience that allowed me to understand it was all “working.” I sat down on a normal Saturday to pay bills—something I usually avoided until the last minute. But when I opened my bank account, something caught my eye. I stared for 2 long minutes at the top line—a small direct deposit from a consulting firm—a mixture of disbelief and excitement rising in my body. Someone just paid me for my writing. I got paid to write. When I tell people I became a copywriter, I know some imagine I landed some big-time, glamorous, household-name client right away. But that’s not what happened. That’s rarely what happens. (I’ll tell you why this is OK) My first real copywriting job was with a consulting firm. I had been bold and reached out to someone in a business community I was part of that had said they needed a copywriter. The scared part of me—that hadn’t officially been hired for copywriting work yet—tried to talk me out of it. “But you’re NOT a copywriter…” my inner critic reminded me. (RUDE) By this point I had practiced reminding that annoying voice that everyone has to start somewhere. So I brushed it off. And I emailed the guy. I was honest about my experience, about wanting and being willing to learn. He gave me a shot. They paid me $90 per blog post at first to write SEO articles about… honestly… pretty random topics. I wrote four in my first month...and made $360. Not life changing dough by any means. I whooped. And then I bought my husband dinner (+ paid the babysitter!). Because when that first payment hit my account, it didn’t matter... I had proven I could be a paid copywriter. I had proven a business would pay me: Not for grading papers. They paid me to be a copywriter. From the peace and (relative) quiet of my home. It felt small—but it felt really, really real. And that’s the part no one talks about: The path to copywriting doesn’t usually start with a dramatic leap.It starts with proof that you can.That first $360 wasn’t about the money. It was about that first bit of momentum. On March 10th, I’m hosting a live webinar that walks you through how you can build your own copywriting momentum. The link to register will be in the next email(ish), so stay tuned. In the meantime, I’d really love to know where on this path you are RIGHT NOW. This will help me to tailor the info in the webinar so it's a perfect fit for what you need at this moment in time. You can simply click on the phrase below that best describes your current situation: 👉 I’m still teaching but exploring options Rooting for you, Meredith |
I'm an educator in spirit, writer, and copy coach who loves to talk about leaving teaching for a different pace of life. Subscribe to my newsletter.
📖Turn the Page📖 Hi Reader! After the last email, I kept thinking about the question underneath the question. (There's always a sneaky one you want to ask but can't) Not “How did you do it?” But: Can I do it too? So let me say something clearly: Copywriting is not some mysterious creative gift. It’s not about being witty on command or having a journalism degree (Not to say you can’t go this route but 🤷♀️). What it is about is clear, precise communication. And let's be honest—teachers are...
Hi Reader— In the last email I wanted to show you clearly how Just STARTING—regardless of how— is really the way to begin building confidence. The first time I got paid for writing, it was not life changing money. But it WAS the match that lit the fire. Within a month, I landed my second client—ghostwriting LinkedIn posts—and she was paying me $75 per post. Suddenly, I could see it. The way projects, income, monthly payments could begin to build—one on top of the other. Within three months, I...
Hey Reader, I’ll admit it. When I first started thinking about not being a teacher anymore… It felt scary. The whole thing made me scared. I honestly didn’t know what would happen if I committed time, energy and money to shifting my professional life in a different direction. Would I fail? What would it even mean to “fail?” Can we talk about why the idea of “failing” feels so heavy? Because I honestly don’t think you’re scared of hard work. I wasn’t. And I don’t think you’re scared of...