When Susan Gunelius offered us another copy of her awesome book “Kickass Copywriter in 10 Easy Steps” to give away, I decided to make it a fun contest. We work hard each day. Why work hard to win something cool? I also wanted the contest to be something we could all share and enjoy here rather than have you send something to my email account. Finally, I wanted it to be something even those who aren’t entering can enjoy….and here’s the result.
The Freelance Writing Job limerick contest.
Are you a poet and you don’t know it? Do you enjoy seeing what words you can get to rhyme with “Nantucket?” If so, you won’t want to miss this. I only have three rules:
- Keep in clean (We can live with PG)
- Keep it respectful
- Keep it on the topic of freelance writng
If you curse or use other vulgarity, or if you bash another person or service, your entry will be disqualified. Otherwise, the sky is the limit.
Enter as many times as you like and let your creativity shine through. The contest will close one week from today on April 8th. Judges will include the FWJ team and, we’ll also throw out the vote to our Facebook group and Twitter communities.
Here’s one to get you started:
There once was a writer from Jersey
For jobs she was very thirsty
She started a blog
It lifted the fog
And now she’s at no one’s mercy
Yeah OK, I’m not a poet, but at least I gave it a shot. Why don’t you try too? Ah heck, I’m feeling generous. The winner will not only receive a copy of “Kickass Copywriting” but I’ll throw in $50 for the limerick that makes us laugh the hardest.
How can you refuse?
I’m surrounded by people who think I’m a fool
At my laptop, nearly ready to drool
They don’t see the point
“Why do you write for that joint
When flipping burgers is so cool”
I freelance near my dog for ideas
But all I get is fle-ahs
And then a flea bath
Which incurs my rath
And any work done? Oh, Ple-ahse
Wherever I freelance I know
That I can work fast or slow
Coffee shop or the mall
Winter, summer, or fall
I spring into action and go
Camping with my netbook I’m set
To do my best freelancing yet
Though mosquitos have bitten
My article’s written
Now I itch for the payment I’ll get!
When stumped for a word I’m no quitter.
And never would one call me bitter.
For a writer I am,
But I’m caught in a jam,
Now limericks my floor do litter!
There once was a young woman with a mighty pen,
Who said, ‘Writing is a state of Zen.
Even with three cats and three dogs,
There is still time for inspiration and blogs. -
Thanks to a hefty dose of meditation and drinks in the den!’
You should realize my lance is not free,
And for writing I must charge a fee.
It’s by meeting your deadlines
I keep off the breadlines,
So please pay your part-time employee.
Among a diverse clientele,
My skill set’s not too hard a sell;
For while some demand more
Than simple WORD lore,
Most are just glad I can spell.
From project to project I go;
Some flash by, others lag in slo-mo.
But they all share one trait:
If I finish too late,
I get docked a good part of my dough.
They say it is a ‘giveaway’
if only I write the correct words today…
I’m going to make it short and fun
then they’ll write me that I’ve won!
I came to see
and take a look…
Yep, it’s real,
I could win a book!!
Making you laugh
to win a book?
Does taking the money
make me a crook?
For those people who ask what I do
I’m a freelance writer – it’s true
I write for a living
I’m past my misgivings
Though sometimes the pay can be poo
.-= Liza Rosenberg´s last blog ..Glass of Wine =-.
there once was a girl from B-more
who wrote til her fingers were sore,
poems for pennies
saved until Bennies
now she too old to care anymore.
.-= jody´s last blog ..the magnolia blossoms =-.
This writing’s a bit of a llama,
Not a life of great riches and drama.
But who cares if it’s quaint
and Bruce Willis it ain’t,
I still get to work in pajamas!
===
There once was a Vancouver writer
Who thought that her clients denied her
Like a tenacious pup
She’ll never give up
And she’s sure her future’s much brighter!
===
A writer who’s terribly meek
Is seeking all writing jobs geek
But the line seems to be,
“Games are fun, work for free!”
So the picture’s a little bit bleak.
===
Freelance Writing Gigs is the best
With great useful pointers it’s blessed
I’m not trying to flatter
(if I did, would it matter?)
And without it, my career would be messed!
.-= Michelle C.´s last blog ..Sample Travel Article: Akihabara =-.
Write a Love Song Stupid(written in 1976 in my creative writing class at SHS).
First Row, First Seat, Steve Tennyson;
One of a kind, definately not a full house,
Second Row, First Seat, Sir Donald Scarborough,
An Idiot by nature but not bad for a louse.
Second Row. Second Seat, Vacant,
Died 1971, Resurrected 1973, Re-died 1975.
Second Row, Third Seat, Tim Capps;
The Lord Worketh in mysterious ways.
Third Row, First Seat, Lydia Hammessley;
One of Don’s Friends; lucky to be alive.
3rd,4th and 5th Rows, Depending on her mood.
June Jacobsen;
Friend and constant companion of the lowly leech.
Fourth Row, First Seat, Julie (Vocal) Perrill;
A constant reminder of our Freedom of Speech.
Fourth Row, Third Seat, Nancy Brawner;
Does your mother still drive the beer truck?
Third Row, Third seat, Trudy Raines:
Will ya’ please shut up and drive?!
Fifth Row, First Seat, Ann Matney;
You themll tho nithe.
And who leads this misplaced psychiatric ward?
Dr. Garrett we presume?
Write a love song stupid!
.-= julie ´s last blog ..Fond Memories Pet Cemetary and Cremation, "They Are Gone, But Not Forgotten"! =-.
Out of options, fed up, and tense,
Despite conventional sense,
I started a blog,
Gave deadbeats a flog,
Lashed them with my irreverence.
.-= Irreverent Freelancer´s last blog ..The Ultimate Get-a-Clue Freelance Request for the Week of April 5, 2010 =-.
There once was a writer-to-be
Who did not know her A from her E
And try as she might
She ignored copyright
So now she does one year to three.
.-= Tim Kissane´s last blog ..Happy Document Freedom Day =-.
There once was a writer named Brock
Who produced the lamest of schlock
Though he wrote of composers
His queries were dozers
To rejection, he sniffed, “I’ll be Bach!”
You can tell by the words that I key.
I’m more than well worth my fee.
The words that I craft
scream excellence, from first to last draft,
And hiring me would make your life so very easy.
I’m joining the rhyme bacchanalia
With no thought of terrible failure.
But then, if I win,
Will it cause Deb chagrin?
The prize must be shipped to Australia.
_________________________________________
I know it’s not much, at first glance;
And I started out kinda by chance.
But now I’m on fire
As a pen out for hire
In my jammies I love to freelance!
Here I sit in my den,
before me lies paper and pen
I brainstorm all day
on how to get paid
for the pieces completed
that lay, undefeated
fear of rejection
causes reflection
and fear of fame
drives one insane
Me I pray for
a brighter day
When I submit
to the freelance life
finally admit
that I am it’s wife
Published pay
the golden day
I am Rita, and I’m a writer
With my words, I am a fighter
If you’re dumb
You’d better run
Especially if your name is Tiger
.-= Rita Riter´s last blog ..Celebrity Slap: April *something* Edition =-.
What I hate most about subcontracting
Is being forced into redacting
Things like touring in France
As a business expense.
(Oh, those taxmen can be so exacting!)
With my dtp and enough time,
The most villainous prose starts to shine;
And all English that’s rough,
Under my loving buff
Will receive the top mark, grade A prime.
Instead of one boss, I’ve a horde,
And am treated by each like her ward.
While some don’t have any,
I’ve much more than plenty
To prompt me to fall on my sword.
There was once a girl from New Haven,
Whom many considered a lyrical maven,
One day she was driving her father’s red Chevy;
On the back a bumper sticker read Bush-Cheney,
Word got out, and rejected was her application to the Nation.
“A Writer for Hire” — that’s my trade.
Of blood, sweat and tears, I have made
my very life’s ink—
but freedom, I think,
is worth all the dues that I’ve paid.
.-= Jo Lightfoot´s last blog ..Intimations of Mortality =-.
This freelance thing’s not just a lark,
Though at times it may seem like malark(-ey).
I’m writing, I swear!
But it’s sunny out there,
So I took all my work to the park.
Writers on a writing spree,
Out to find their freelance fee.
Sending stories or poems,
From abroad or at home,
Especially if entry is free!
I am a freelance writer – oh how I love to write
Stringing words together, morning, noon and night
It took me quite a while, to give this path a go
Afraid I’d never make it, and that they’d all say no
I started very slowly, beginning with a blog
Years of dreary office work had left me in a fog
I wanted to create; I needed something more
To talk about my work, and not sound like a bore
It’s now a few years later; I’ve amassed a bunch of clips
Some are just a tad mundane, while others – quite a trip
From politics to hummus – sometimes they overlap
Perhaps you’ll disagree with me, but please don’t say it’s crap
As things stand right now, I’ve got some time to fill
Peruse the stuff I’ve written – I might just fit your bill
My writing’s rather good, or so some people say
I’d love to do some work for you – but only if you pay
.-= Liza Rosenberg´s last blog ..Glass of Wine =-.
There once was a writer from Boston,
Who fancied herself a Jane Austen.
She wrote words for free,
While riding the T,
Then one day she got paid – it was awesome.
I spend hours a day online
Trying to find writing jobs divine
They want to pay me in peanuts
They must think I may be nuts
$1 for 500 words, here’s your sign
My keyboard keys I do poke
My ego the employers do stroke
Your writing’s the best we have seen
Your copy is fun and so clean
By the way, there’e no money, we’re broke
A young man once thought he could write
But what poured forth was often quite trite
He could find no jobs in his style
He searched for a long country mile
I’ll just blog, it can’t be hard right?
A man said he’d pay me for writing
I found the idea exciting
Five dollars per post
Is better than most
So on his hook I am biting
For many, writing’s a hobby
A profession they often do lobby
We write like mad
For listings t’be had
And pray we get the job-by
Writers are a unique breed
Motivated by love and by greed
We compete with eachother
But feel each is a brother
We’re one giant family indeed
Brock,
Red-faced moment. I submitted a limerick about “a writer named Brock”–a name chosen solely for its rhyme potential. So I’m reading the submissions and run across your name…
Totally unintentional, and absolutely nothing meant by it. (Unless of course, you write schlock about long-dead classical music composers, in which case, I’m psychic.) Don’t even know if my submission went through, because I don’t see it, but just in case…I’m innocent!
Here’s one I wrote years back re: the Ben Johnson gold medal/steroid scandal:
When he ran for us quick as a bunny
Our Olympian skies were all sunny
But then an MD
Analyzed his pee
Sic transit gloria mundi
================
As a writer who’s based in Toronna
I can find all the jobs that I wanna
But a penny a word
Is rather absurd -
You may write for that rate; I ain’t gonna!
There once was a blogger named John
Who had a laptop for writing upon
His power went out
And oh, what a shout
For all of his words, they were gone.
There once was a wannabe bloke
Whose writing was fat and baroque
Magazines concurred
That paying by the word
Would probably make them go broke.
There once was a fellow named Chance,
A ghostwriter who worked freelance.
He awoke in the night
With a terrible fright.
On You Tube he appeared sans pants!
There once was a fellow named Chance
Who only wore holey sweat pants.
He couldn’t land a job
‘Cause he dressed like a slob.
So Chance donned his pants to freelance!
A writer once circled an ad
For a gadget he wished he had.
He took freelance jobs
Advertised on blogs.
Now jobs pop up on his iPad!
There once was a slogan writer
Who taught herself to write tighter.
She wrote every day.
Hoped her boss would say,
“Your slogans couldn’t be lighter!”
A smart slogan writer takes notes
On products like soup, cars and boats.
She cuts words galore.
Uses no more than four.
And writes prose so light that it floats!
A woman once lived in a shoe.
Her kids made it seem like a zoo.
During naps and at night
She stole minutes to write
A freelance blog A Zoo with A View!
There once was a woman named Sue
Whose mood was unusually blue.
With sorry finances
She took freelance chances.
Now Sue pays her bills when they’re due!
There once was a writer whose spelling
Was bad to the point of it smelling.
Editors cried, “Jeeze!”
While spraying Febreze
In efforts to keep tears from welling.
I write and write and write
The future is looking quite bright
I am no slave to a wage
Thanks to the words on my page
But I hardly ever see the daylight
The words on my pages they do sing
This freelancing life is no fling
I write like there’s no tomorrow
To avoid a life of undue sorrow
To make a living is the hope I do cling
Let me write you a limerick
will mine be the one you pick
among them all
or will I fall
between the cracks like a beatnik
There once was a girl that was problematic
her life was quite dramatic
money she sought
for things that she bought
which cluttered up her attic
What do you need
to be freed
your hearts desire
is the fire
to exceed
There was a girl with many dreams
nothing was ever as it seemed it seems
She threw pennies in wells
wished upon stars that fell
How her eyes would gleam
Her head was in the clouds
she wouldn’t listen unless you were loud
money couldn’t buy her love
her inspiration came from above
She was all too proud
To fly first class
would be kick ass!
I need fifty more
to settle the score.
will this be pass?
There was a woman with children
that didn’t think she would sleep again
two under two
what will she do?
Grandma to the rescue, amen!
Does money make this world go round
where we, writers are bound?
to make sense
of our existence
in these words that we have found.
What is a limerick?
Is it a gimmick?
Words that rhyme
in five lines?
What makes you tick?
To fly first class
would be kick ass!
I need fifty more
to settle the score.
will this pass?
excuse me please omit be in last line. typo’s drive me mad!
It’s the last day to submit
what you writ
I procrastinate so
just let go
and you’ll find what fits
There was a girl
in this world
they said she can’t
but she wanted to enchant
her ideas swirled
There once was a writer named Stella
Who wanted to write a best seller
She got book and pen out
But she could not work out
A plot for both female and feller
There was a man who couldn’t decide.
With all these words came much pride.
Who has what it takes to win?
They’re all good. Is this a sin?
He laid down his head and cried.
At the computer I stare
awaiting approval I glare
if you only knew what this would mean
to read my words, to be seen as a human being
will you care
There is no limit to the sky
do you ever ask yourself why?
there is infinite possibilities
would you agree?
Do you dare to fly?
There was a girl who made you smile
She would travel miles and miles
nothing tied her down
in this imagination she wound
She promises that it’s worth your while
There once was a writer from Dallas
Who dreamed of life in a palace
But as freelancing goes
though to the grindstone was her nose
She lived instead on a pallet.
.-= Denise Grier´s last blog ..Places to Enter Free Sweepstakes =-.
dismiss all the insults
come on now we are adults
hold your head up high
do not cry
you will get results
if you just try
There was a girl who spent her days dwellling
about all her misfortunes and mispellings
then she had a thought
to give it all she got
from then on she never stopped trying
The Limerick Contest has ended
My limericks all I have sended
But I’ve seen not a note
’bout what everyone wrote
To where has the Kick-Ass book wended?
Im typing with bad ear ache
My heads banging its not a fake
Cotton buds are a no no
In my lughole a no go
The buiscuit its starting to take