Let’s set the scene.
You, the seasoned freelance writer, once got a deal for $100 per blog post from a tech startup that called you “part of the team”. You researched, you edited, you agonized over headlines like they were your own children. Then one Tuesday morning, after three cups of burnout-flavored coffee, your inbox is quiet. Suspiciously quiet. Like horror-movie quiet.
Weeks pass. Your client resurfaces with a smug little message:
“Hey, we’re trying out AI now—can you just polish the drafts?”
Polish.
The. Drafts.
FOR TWENTY DOLLARS. (if you are lucky)
🧨 1. The Vanishing Act: Ghosted by Clients, Replaced by Bots
Freelance writers are getting laid off without being told. There’s no severance. No goodbye email. No chance to plead your case or send them a spreadsheet full of ROI metrics from your genius evergreen content. Nope. They just vanish, like a Tinder match after the third date. Only difference? This one used to pay your rent.
Writers are now living in the age of the “invisible layoff.” Clients fire you by omission. They feed your job to a machine, watch it spit out a lukewarm listicle, and pat themselves on the back like they just discovered fire.
What hurts most is the subtlety. These aren’t corporate layoffs with press releases. They’re soft disappearances, quiet, polite, and absolutely brutal. The kind where you refresh your inbox 27 times and reread your last message thinking, Was I too needy? Too professional? Too… human?
The silence is strategic. Clients don’t want to admit they’ve replaced you with a glorified text regurgitator. Because deep down, they know it’s not better. It’s just cheaper. And they’d rather ghost than explain why your hard-earned craft got swapped for a 12-second AI prompt that starts every blog with “In today’s digital world…”
🤖 2. “Just Humanize It” – aka, Do Real Work for Chump Change
Let’s talk about the newest insult to the writing profession: the AI Editor role. Translation: “Here’s a 1,500-word AI vomit draft. Please turn it into something readable, insightful, emotionally resonant, grammatically functional, SEO-optimized, and still make us sound like we’re not corporate demons. We’ll pay $20.”
That’s not editing. That’s alchemy. That’s creative CPR. And you’re expected to do it in under an hour because “the AI did most of the work.”
These “editing” gigs are the literary version of being handed a soggy microwave burrito and asked to turn it into a five-course meal, with no kitchen, no ingredients, and a timer counting down from 30 minutes. And if it’s not Michelin-worthy? You get ghosted again. Or worse, replaced by another freelancer willing to work for $10 and a LinkedIn endorsement.
Meanwhile, clients are patting themselves on the back for their “efficiency.” They think they’re innovating. No, Susan. You’re just turning writers into sweatshop grammarians while pretending your blog doesn’t read like a sleep paralysis demon wrote it at 3AM.
🧮 3. Fast and Cheap Wins – Until the Soul Leaves the Content
Here’s the harsh truth: Clients don’t want “better.” They want faster. They want cheaper. They want the illusion of productivity, not the substance of quality. They’ll trade your nuance, voice, storytelling, and actual research for a bland AI blog that sounds like it was written by a motivational poster in a dentist’s office. And the worst part? They’ll say it’s “good enough.”
Let’s play a game.
AI content:
“Maximizing productivity is important in today’s fast-paced world.”
Human content:
“If your morning routine involves caffeine, doomscrolling, and questioning your entire life, you’re halfway to peak productivity already.”
One makes you smile. The other makes you nap.
Guess which one costs $150 and which one costs zero.
And yet, clients can’t seem to tell the difference. Why? Because they don’t actually read the content anymore. They just skim, slap it into WordPress, and call it a win if it has enough H2 tags and what they think are fancy words, like “synergy” and “optimize.” They’re not chasing quality. They’re chasing Google’s patience.
But here’s the twist: even Google’s starting to hate this low-effort spam. As AI sludge floods the internet, users bounce faster, trust drops, and engagement tanks. Because guess what? Your audience isn’t stupid. They can smell robotic mediocrity from two scrolls away.
📉 4. Platforms Are Fighting Back, but Clients Don’t Care
Medium, Google, and a dozen other content overlords are now de-ranking AI-detectable content. Why? Because even the algorithms are tired of reading stuff that sounds like a ChatGPT prompt from 2023. But clients? Clients don’t care. They’ll still use AI to pump out 10 blogs a day, hoping one ranks. Meanwhile, real writers, you, are out here wondering if your entire career just got reverse-engineered by a prompt engineer named Justin.
Clients love to throw around the word “strategy,” but when you ask about their content plan, it’s just a spreadsheet full of AI blog titles like “10 Tips to Stay Productive While Working From Home” and “How To Be Happy.” Groundbreaking. Pulitzer-worthy. Totally not identical to 8 billion other posts online.
Even worse? These same clients will still blame you when their AI-generated blog doesn’t perform. They’ll bring you back in, hand you the wreckage, and say “fix it.” And guess what they offer this time? Yep, $15 and a stock photo of a smiling millennial with a laptop.
🔒 5. The Psychological Gut Punch of Being “Replaced”
This isn’t just a financial hit, it’s an existential one. You trained. You honed your voice. You built a portfolio. You learned how to write copy that converts, stories that sell, ideas that matter. And now? You’re being benched for a chatbot that forgets context after three paragraphs and thinks “plethora” is still a cool word.
There’s no formal rejection. Just silence. Just the slow, bitter realization that your craft is now considered optional.
The betrayal isn’t loud, it’s passive. It’s watching mediocre content rise while your pitch emails collect dust. It’s feeling like a relic in an industry you helped build. It’s being told that you’re “not scalable” by a CEO who can’t write a coherent Slack message without three emojis and a typo.
And worst of all? It’s knowing you could still write that article ten times better, but no one’s giving you the pen.
🧠 But Here’s the Real Truth: You’re Still Needed. You’re Just Undervalued.
AI can’t replace voice. It can’t replace lived experience. It can’t create culture, it can only remix it. And right now? The remix is garbage. So what do you do?
You double down on your voice.
You niche down to industries that value authenticity over speed.
You create content that bleeds personality, soul, and storytelling, stuff AI couldn’t dream of writing unless it developed childhood trauma and rent anxiety.
You remind your clients (and yourself) that good writing isn’t just text on a page. It’s a relationship with the reader. It’s trust. It’s emotion. It’s that rare feeling of “damn, this writer gets it.” And no AI can manufacture that. Not yet, not ever.
✊ Final Rant: You’re Not Done
This isn’t the end of freelance writing. It’s the beginning of freelancers who write like humans and refuse to become AI editors for beer money. Let the bots have the SEO sludge. Let the desperate brands publish AI ghostposts that die on page 5 of Google.
You? You write like you’re still human.
Because that’s what your audience actually wants.
They don’t want perfect. They want real. They want flawed. They want blood in the ink. So sharpen your sarcasm. Polish your punchlines. And start charging again like your words matter because they still do.
Discover more from Adrian Cruce's Blog
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.