We met at one of his hotels on Union Square, where herds of tourists were checking in for the weekend and flocks of businessmen were checking out after a week of work-related travel. My friend told me his marketing department was in the process of revamping his hotels’ websites, and he needed someone to rewrite the copy for eleven of them.
He asked me to do it.
I like to think it’s because I’m a good writer, but maybe it's because I’m the only writer he knows. Most likely it’s because I’m young enough—and bright-eyed and eager and stupid enough—to do it for less than a fortune. In fact, when I named my price? He suggested the company pay me $200 more.
(Lesson learned. Shoot high!)
I’m no veteran. Hell, I’ve never been asked my going rate. So when I sat down this week to start writing, I felt the pressure. Suddenly I was more than just a college kid worth five cents per word (or a magazine freelancer, willing to write for an African American book for free); I was a professional! My first task was to write a copy block about the experience a businessman might have while visiting one of my friends' extended-stay hotels; it will be featured on a main page somewhere. After studying brand objectives and flipping through PowerPoints and Word documents given to me at the meeting, I worked all night. There’s lots more to do, so I’ll be extra busy this holiday weekend! (Unless the sun comes out, in which case I'll put it off until Tuesday. Obviously.)