Not every pitch lands. Not every client stays.
Sometimes a client moves on from me. And sometimes, they come to me—after parting ways with someone else.
It works both ways.
When it happens, it simply means we can’t possibly be the right fit for everyone—and that’s a lesson worth learning.
Here’s what I’ve discovered about creative rejection, letting go, and why the right work always finds its way back.
Let me start with this: I’m lucky.
Very lucky. Work keeps coming in—some of it new, some returning, and some that’s been months in the making. There’s always something bubbling away on the hob, and I’m grateful beyond words for that. If you’re a writer, you’ll know that quiet fear that the well might dry up.
So when it doesn’t? That’s cause for celebration.
But.
I don’t get everything I go for. Not every pitch lands. Not every conversation turns into a commission. And sometimes—despite best intentions and effort—a project begins and then... stops. Changes in direction, tone, budget, or just instinct mean a client decides to move on. It can be my decision, their decision, or it can be mutual.
Fortunately and so far, whenever it has happened, it’s always been amicable.
But it’s never easy, is it?
As writers, especially those of us who’ve built a business around helping others tell their stories, there’s a little sting when something doesn’t work out. You wonder—was I not good enough?
Did I miss something in the brief?
Could I have done more?
And maybe the answer is yes. Or maybe it’s no. But more often than not, the real answer is this:
I’m not the answer for everyone.
And that’s OK.
I’ve learnt (slowly, and not without ego-bruises along the way) that not every job is mine to do. Not every story is mine to shape. Sometimes another writer will fit better. Their tone, background, or energy might align more closely with a client’s shifting needs.
That’s not a failing. It’s just part of the creative process—an invisible, unspoken handover of the baton.
I’ve also learnt that being the right writer matters more than being the only writer. When it works, it really works. When there’s trust, alignment, understanding—it’s a joy. And when that’s not there, it’s often kinder to step aside and let someone else take the reins.
This isn’t a blog about loss or disappointment.
Quite the opposite.
It’s a reminder—to myself, and maybe to other freelancers reading this—that success isn’t measured by a 100% conversion rate. It’s measured by the quality of what you create, the relationships you build, and the integrity with which you work—even when things don’t go your way.
So I’ll keep pitching. Keep writing. Keep learning. Keep showing up with sleeves rolled up and pen in hand. I won’t get everything—and I don’t want to.
I just want the ones that are right. For me. For them. For the story.
And when that happens? That’s when the magic starts.
