A few months ago, I was sitting on my couch, completely puzzled.

How do I move forward when this is the world right now? 

The only thing I could think of? Dogs.

So I created a Rover profile, and started dog sitting. The joy is, as you would expect, off the charts. I’ve also made a little extra cash, which feels like fun money to be spent on fun things, like Thai lunch and pedicures and lip gloss. 

But if you’re wondering about my copywriting business, as I’ve shared in 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023, and 2024, here is my (more unhinged than ever!) 2025 by the numbers. Won’t you join me down the rabbit hole? 

Here’s my current work-landscape: 

AI and the uncertainty it’s posing. A husband recovering from spine surgery and a need to financially make more (and pay for health insurance) while he’s readjusting to his new body, capabilities and job prospects. I mean, I’ve always been transparent with my posts — why stop now?! (Excuse me, I see an em-dash, this must be AI-written!)

The money situation: 

I have always prioritized balance, life-joy, and working with nice people over making money. I have worked to maximize my time, and have never worked 40 hours a week. Over the years, I’ve talked about money with a curtained approach. I don’t have the energy; I’m tired of complicated. 

• Most years I’ve made around 60k.

• The most I’ve ever made was 70k (and that felt like a cap, where I would have needed to 1) work to a point of burnout, or 2) raise my rates to a place I didn’t think my ideal clients could afford, in order to make more). 

• Last year I made about 38k, which scared me a lot. Up until then, I always knew there was more work available if I wanted it. Now, it feels like the well has run dry. 

• This year, I made 50k in my business (but only because of an unusually-big project). 

So, without further ado:

• Years in business — 19 (Will I make it to 20? 😂 We shall see!) 

• Total clients — 16

• Clients / partners who are designers or agencies — 9

• Client websites written — 1 (and she’s an absolute beauty, thanks to Jill Anderson, WordPress wizardess). This is where I’ve previously made most of my income. In 2022, I wrote 17.

• Client blogs + newsletters + case studies written — 30+ 

• Cheap landing pages written — 100+ (I’ve learned all I can, and my bandwidth for this kind of thing is now depleted.)

• Clients for whom I write monthly newsletters, case studies or blog posts — 4

• Un-newsletter subscribers (up 33 from last year) — 1108

• Un-newsletters sent — just one (That’s 91 since I started, also posted here.) 

• 20+ — messaging guides I’ve written to guide content before AI gets involved (And yes, this totally results in much better words.) 

• Times someone has paid me to exercise — 15 and counting! (Thanks, dogs!) 

• Amount of work I want to do if my heart’s not in it — ZERO. 

• How convinced I am that AI is capable of zapping our humanity, making us all sound the same, and taking over everything online — 200%  

• Times I’ve gone on LinkedIn and absolutely hated it for a bajillion reasons — all of them! (Robert Lodi, you are not one of these reasons; your content is a delight.) 

• Times I’ve watched my friend Tara’s Christmas reel starring her dog, Ollie — 50+

• Reduction in one agency’s budget as they said, “Use AI more, take less time.” — 90%

• Amount of work expected within the same timeframe (from another agency I work with) — 2x

• Times using more AI, more quickly, created generic content — Both of the above!

• Times I’ve seen AI telling someone who they are without them even realizing it — So many! If we don’t tell AI who we are, it’s going to tell us. That is (unpopular opinion alert!) precisely why I don’t use AI for brainstorming.

• Days I’ve used AI to help me — Most! I’m finding ways to put it into my workflow that feel beneficial, but I also dislike it. (Can something be useful and awful at the same time?) 

• Side jobs I’ve gotten outside of writing — 1. I’m doing some accounting work; it’s meditative and provides steady additional income, which right now, feels like hitting the freaking lottery. (I’ve had a screaming urge to diversify over the past year, because I’ve never felt so uncertain about my prospects of making money.)

• Payment for my biggest project ever — 15k. (It was through an agency, for a very big company, and every time I tried to veer from generic AI copy, they bumped it back because they wanted to sound like their competitors, who clearly used AI to write their copy. Though a massive project money-wise, it’s probably the one I’m least proud of. 

• How much I got paid for writing 2.5 landing pages with AI (probably the smallest “project” of my career) — $42.

• Pressure I’m putting on myself to pay the bills, bills, bills — tons! And this may not shock you, but pressure-cooker Deidre isn’t my favorite version of myself. I’m trying to remember to breathe, picture abundance, and remember that total upheaval and discomfort might be a necessary part of getting somewhere new. 

• Things about my work I’m questioning — everything! At this point, anything is possible. 

Does anyone need a “writer” anymore?

People can now write (decent-enough) content themselves using AI. This is true. So where does this leave me? Someone whose opinion I really value told me: Deidre, you’ve never really been a writer. You’ve been someone who helps people feel heard and understood. Then you share that in writing. 

It really is what I’m best at; I never thought I was that good of a writer anyway. But I know I make people feel comfortable and understood. These skills don’t sound lucrative, exactly, but who knows…

Moving forward

I’d like to get paid for being a listener, a helper, a clarity-finder and a connection-creator. If I end up only getting only one good project a year, so be it. I will watch dogs and find new ways; I have the hustle to figure it out. 

Here’s what I do know: I am very clear on what brings me joy. Thrifting, plants, pets, nature, kind people, tinted lip balms, spicy fragrances (nutmeg, clove, cinnamon), a clean house, my luxury cotton bathrobe (new with tags for 6.99 at the thrift!), metallic shoes, hugs, and watching the absolute glee my 5-year-old experiences life with. 

Here’s to more joy, comfy robes, and dogs! 

What are your solutions for finding joy in a fiery world? And how are you moving into 2026?