Content mills. Two small words that guarantee big reactions.
“I’d rather cut my hand off and starve than write for a content mill!”
OK, that might be dramatic, but you get the picture. The flip side, because there is always another side, are those who happily make a living from the mills. Me, I fall somewhere in the middle.
Yes, the pay is low. No, I don’t see myself content milling for ever. But I get something out of it.
Here’s why I think content mills can be beneficial to your writing career (fair warning, it’s not a short post)…
Confidence
I have a three-step plan for world domination.
- Write and publish it
- Get paid for my writing
- Make a full-time living writing
My blog satiates my desire to write. That’s number one. The content mill proves I can get paid for my writing.
The fact someone, somewhere, pays me weekly for my efforts means my writing isn’t terrible. At minimum, it must at least be OK. And that gives me a chunk of confidence.
It’s a solid place from which to reach step number three. Make a full-time living. I’m actually doing something about it, not dreaming about being a writer one day. I’m doing it. Daily.
Money in the Bank
You’re right, confidence doesn’t give me the dollars to buy Twitter for fun or pay my mortgage, but there’s money coming in, all the same. I can keep my Chinese takeout and lottery budget going strong, even while my fuel bill has doubled.
The mill pays me 3 cents a word. My rates, because I’m new to freelance writing and I’m working to build my client base, are in the low teens. In these early days, that’s not a problematic difference for me. Especially as I don’t have to do any marketing or cold calling or follow up when writing for the mill. It takes 3 clicks and less than 30 seconds for me to get guaranteed work. In the short term, that’s worth the discount.
Hone and Tone
I get more than money from the content mill. That sounds very romantic or the sign of a toxic relationship. But I see writing for the content mill as an opportunity to tweak my writing processes, improve my business offerings, and… clears throat and takes up his best Shakespearean actor stance “… to hone my craft; to flee the seas of mediocrity!”
It now takes me half the time to write an article compared to when I started.
I’m not sacrificing quality to achieve it. I still take 30 minutes to research each piece and about 20 to turn those chicken scratch notes into a coherent digital outline. Where I’ve improved is the actual writing and proofing. Because my writing is better—fewer grammatical mistakes, less complex paragraphs, better rhythm and flow—my proofing time has dropped.
So, win-win all around. And other fluff like statements.
Mindset
Let’s be honest, writing is a commodity. And like fast-food joints and car dealerships, there’s a writer and writer based business on every corner. I’m OK with that. It means there are plenty of places I can get experience and there are gilded institutions among the hills I can aspire to be a part of.
I write for a company that ranks quantity above quality. If the article isn’t verbose, doesn’t repeat itself, and has a Hemingway app reading level of 9 or less, it’s golden.
It’s not rocket science, Peabody Award-winning stuff. It’s words on a screen that help someone’s business. As writer’s that’s what we do, right? We create sentences and paragraphs that ensnare and bewitch the reader so our client’s business can grow, and we both put food on the table.
You don’t walk in off the street and instantly become the maître d’ of a $100 a plate restaurant. You gain experience in the industry first. Often, that means learning to flip burgers that sell for $1 or washing plates at the Greasy Spoon cafe.
It’s a process, building my portfolio and raising my rates. It so happens my long-term goal starts with flipping words at 3 cents a pop.
Moving On Up
I’m an introvert. I love words. I hate selling.
Marketing on LinkedIn and cold pitches are like boiled Brussel sprouts, or like writing for a content mill for some people. Nasty. I’d rather clean the cat box.
The confidence the content mill has given me has helped with this—pitching, not the cat box. I’ve started searching through LinkedIn for work and sent in a handful of pitches where before I got the sweats and put it off.
If I keep doing this, I can leave the low paying mill behind for a full schedule of higher paying clients.
Final Thoughts
Content mills aren’t for everyone, just like $1 burgers. Sure, it may feel like they’re contributing their own version of micro-plastics to the internet, but don’t disparage them out of hand. Not that you asked for unsolicited advice from a stranger on the internet, but this is one instance where I’m happy to share my opinion.
There are opportunities to be found among the dross to become a better writer, learn the trade, and give you the confidence to do what you want to do.
Happy writing!