Permalancing: The Good, The Bad, And The Mildly Horrific

The other month, fellow freelancer Stacy Lipson interviewed me for a story on permalancing in The Fiscal Times.* An interesting piece, to be sure, but I felt a bit put off by the fact that the Times portrayed permalancers as disposable victim-types.

Because, in my opinion, it goes both ways.

I’ve had several permalance-style gigs in the past four years. All of them were pursued as a means to an end. Most of them were taken on because I wanted some sort of financial safety net while still having the time to pursue the projects that mattered most to me. None of them were meant to be permanent.

I suppose you could say that I was taking advantage of them.

Still, Stacy’s right. A permalance situation is far from perfect. Which is why I think it’s about time I touch upon the good, the bad, and the mildly horrific when it comes to permalancing.

The Good :

Regular income. I took classes. I read books. I networked like hell. I built up a portfolio. I even got married! (Health insurance for the win!) But when it came down to going full-time freelance, I didn’t feel ready to leave my staff position at an academic book publisher until I’d secured a good number of regular freelance copy editing hours at the New York Sun.

Freelance income can be irregular, especially at the beginning. But there’s no rule that says you have to go all-or-nothing. Securing a regular freelance gig with part-time hours could very well be just the thing you need to achieve that beautiful balance of stability and intelligent risk.

Camaraderie. After the New York Sun folded, I took a definite financial hit. But what was even tougher to deal with was being alone all the time. All the freelance work I did was off-site. And I took on as much of it as I could, until work/life balance devolved into work/work/(and more work). As friends and family would be happy to tell you, I became a bit of a recluse. And as a result, my marriage suffered, partially because I was relying on my husband to be my sole social outlet. (Well, him and my three cats. They’re fantastic conversationalists.)

What I found most attractive about the job I eventually took at YourTango was the team. I wanted very badly to be a part of that. And despite the fact that I’m not officially a staff member, I’ve never felt any less involved than anyone else there.

An open door or five. In addition to moolah and sweet, sweet human contact, my permalance gigs have helped me beef up my resume and portfolio, make valuable contacts within the industry, and gain higher visibility. And while no one should be paid in PIE alone (P.aid I.n E.xposure), the exposure that comes with certain gigs is certainly a huge benefit. In fact, such exposure has led to new gigs… gigs that came to me magically, without me having to seek them out.

The Bad :

Isolation. I know, I know. I already listed camaraderie as one of the benefits of a permalance gig. And being part of an ongoing team is nice… and a nice change of pace from… um… talking to yourself. But not every company will be as welcoming and inclusive as YourTango was with me. (I’ve found that the smaller the company, the more intimate the environment. Obvs.) At one on-site, permalance gig I had, I felt almost invisible.  It was lonelier than being at home. So not being a salaried employee can definitely affect how staffers treat you.

Lack of benefits. This one’s a doozie for all freelancers but, when you’re putting in regular hours with one company, you can’t help but feel that you deserve health benefits, too. Unfortunately, they most likely hired you — a freelancer — because they didn’t want to spend the money on a full benefits package. Pretty shady when you consider the hours some permalancers put in.

The Horrific :

Scope creep. To you, a lack of benefits may the most horrifying thing ever. But I’m lucky. I have a sugar da… um, a husband. So what I find especially troubling is the tendency at certain permalance gigs for scope creep. Without the promise of additional pay.

Listen people. I’m running a business. This gig isn’t my only gig. So I don’t care if your staffers are working overtime every damn day. I won’t do it. It’s just not worth it to me. You’re not offering me more money. You’re not offering me additional benefits. You’re trying to intrude on my other billable hours. I’m not having it.

How can you deal with scope creep at a permalance gig? Set boundaries. Stick to your previously-agreed-upon work hours. Keep the lines of communication open between you and your direct superior so that they know what’s on your plate, and can help you prioritize.

Don’t allow scope creep to happen. Don’t let them take advantage. Because then you will be a victim. But it’ll be your own damn fault.

Becoming strangled by your safety net. With every permalance gig I’ve ever had, I’ve come to a point where I started to resent the time I was spending on it. Because it was time I wasn’t spending on the work that truly mattered to me. And then I had to ask myself: Am I dooming these other projects to failure because I’m not giving them my all? Is the gig that was once a safety net only holding me back? Am I going to fail in my endeavors because I’m not really taking that risk?

The danger of putting all your eggs in one basket. Finally, the biggest drawback in giving too much of your time to one client is the possibility that the whole damn thing will fall through. And then? Well, you’ll be screwed. Think about it.

Are you — or were you ever — a permalancer? Were your experiences mostly positive or negative?

Related: Wanted: The Career Equivalent of an Open Marriage, 10 Side Jobs for Freelancers, How To Juggle Multiple Careers

*I would link to the piece, but I’m getting an error message on the site right now.