The Costs of Freelance Editing

Here as everywhere, it takes (some) money to make money

Last week I finally did it: I signed up for a class on AI and editing. I’ve admittedly been skeptical of many some of the claims AI supporters have been making about it. As others have pointed out, if AI is so amazing and life-changing, why is it being promoted so aggressively? I largely agree with the argument that if a new technology or product offering is truly superior, consumers will flock to it organically (think iPhones, Model Ts, and the like). In a lot of ways, the “AI will change the world” narrative has, to me, felt like a classic hype cycle.

But a recent thread on the Editorial Freelancers Association’s discussion list made me rethink some of my skepticism (the EFA being the most prominent industry organization for—you guessed it—editorial freelancers in the U.S.). The discussion was technically about editing partially AI-generated work, but through the conversation I learned that some editors are actually using AI themselves to increase their productivity. I’m well aware of the many controversies surrounding AI and writing and publishing, but I was surprised to learn that there may be ethical ways to take advantage of AI in the editing process.

One of the thread participants mentioned a seven-week online course on AI and editing taught by the editor Erin Servais. In uncharacteristically quick fashion, I decided to sign up for it. I didn’t do much continuing education last year, and this seemed like a perfect opportunity to learn a new skill. Even if it turns out AI can’t do much for my editing practice, at least I’d have a much better understanding of this highly buzzed-about and potentially disruptive technology.

The seven-session course isn’t cheap; even with the 20 percent discount I got through my EFA membership (itself $145 a year), it still cost $440.

All of which brings me to the real point of this post: maintaining a successful freelance editing business costs money. In different editing and writing forums I’ve frequented over the years, some seem to think, incorrectly, that becoming a full-time freelance editor is as simple as ordering a new desk chair cushion and upgrading your broadband. In reality, there are lots of small-to-medium expenses on an annual basis. And that’s on top of startup costs, which between new furniture, a new workspace, a new computer, and new accessories (external monitors, etc.) can easily stretch to a few thousand dollars.

Here’s an incomplete list, largely off the top of my head, of my annual expenses this year:

• EFA membership ($145)

• Squarespace website and domain hosting ($212)

• Microsoft 365 ($75)

• Freedom web-blocking app ($30)

• Continuing education - AI for Editors course ($440)

• Driver Easy software ($40)

• FreshBooks accounting software ($360)

• PerfectIt proofreading software ($70)

• Filing with the NC Secretary of State for my LLC, AMR Editorial ($203)

• Subscriptions:

  • The Bottom Line (formerly the Hot Sheet) newsletter ($59)

  • Publishing industry and writing Substacks ($224 combined): SHuSH by Kenneth Whyte; Attention Economy by Leigh Stein; Notes from a Small Press by Anne Trubek; and Counter Craft by Lincoln Michel

• Various nonfiction books ($200)

You can certainly debate the merits of some of these items. Maybe a lot of them. Do I really need to spend $40 on Freedom, an app that blocks my internet so I’ll stop reading the internet compulsively and focus on my work? Well, I do! But it’s certainly not essential for many people.

And then there’s all of those subscriptions. Jane Friedman’s newsletter provides insider reports on industry news and trends. For those who want to be on top of each, I’d argue it’s a must-read. The same goes for the various Substacks. In addition to providing clear-eyed analyses of all aspects of the quickly-changing publishing industry, Attention Economy frequently includes interviews with agents and acquisition editors that I find highly illuminating. In the end, the more industry knowledge I have on top of my editing skills, the more value I can provide to my clients.

PefectIt? While I’m not a copyeditor, I still run each client’s manuscript through the software after my final pass. It tidies things up and, ideally, will make less work for their copyeditor. It’s kind of like the free back-of-the-neck shave you get at the barber’s—a little something extra. So far no one has complained about this service.

Two hundred bucks for maintaining my website through Squarespace is always a tough pill to swallow . . . until I remember that one-third to one-half of my clients have found me through it, and I’ve spent years clawing my way to the first page of Google Search results. I suppose I could switch to a free or low-cost host. But I’m pretty convinced I’d pay for this in the long run. Especially given the rapid enshittification of Google Search, which now displays AI-generated and sponsored content as the first half-dozen results to any search query. If this helps keep me on the first page of organic search results, it’s worth it. Not to mention, the Squarespace templates are sleek and professional-looking out of the box. Creating a page that’s just as attractive would most likely require me to learn a new program, such as WordPress, or hire someone to do it. So that’d require spending money or time.

All of this doesn’t even include other recurring costs like that aforementioned broadband, and less frequent ones like office furniture and computer hardware and accessory upgrades every few years.

Nor did I include subscriptions to other industry publications, like Publishers Lunch ($25/month) or Publishers Weekly ($199/year). So far I can’t really justify them, but that may change down the road. (Though I do read Publishers Weekly’s free daily email.)

The takeaway is this: it costs money to run a professional, full-time editing business. Maybe not a whole lot of it, but significantly more than I was anticipating when I left my job to become a full-time freelancer.

Accordingly, I would argue that a willingness to incur these sorts of costs is a way, albeit an imperfect one, to separate a hobbyist from a professional. Is your copyeditor a member of any professional editing organizations? What industry publications does the editor helping you shape your book proposal read? (Suffice it to say, the more they understand current marketplace trends, the more they will know how to tailor the proposal to them.) Has your developmental editor taken any continuing ed. courses over the past year or two? Does their website convey professionalism?

There are obviously some pretty big caveats here. For one, some highly experienced, in-demand editors may see little reason to update their website or renew an editing association membership if they already have a steady stream of work. Whether a website looks “professional” may vary depending on the genre the editor is working in. And you don’t have to have a solid grasp of the market to be great at effectively reorganizing sprawling, unfocused manuscripts.

But as a crude proxy, there may be something to this method. I’m currently working on a book proposal. When I’m done with my draft I may decide to hire an editor to review it, or I may just submit it as is. If I do hire someone, I know what I’ll be looking for.