5 Reasons Writing for Content Mills Will Hurt Your Freelance Writing Career

What is a content mill? Think of it as a sweatshop for creativity. A lot of writing for miniscule pay.

When I was first recruited by a content mill, I was excited. Finally, I thought, a chance to make money from my words.

But please don’t be seduced by the dollar signs. Here are some things you need to keep in mind should you decide to write for a content mill.

Content Mills Will Work You Like a Dog

The excessive workload is a clear red flag you’ve stumbled upon a content mill. What constitutes ‘excessive’ is subjective and entirely dependent on the individual, which is why it is very important to know yourself and what you’re capable of in terms of writing capacity.

I know that I can rely on myself to produce a well-crafted, researched article of about 800–1000 words with a week’s turnaround time.

I didn’t know that in the beginning, however. So when I was asked to take tasks that involved three posts in one week, I wasn’t aware of my threshold, and I set myself up for failure.

Discover what your limit is: if the workload far exceeds or doubles or even triples that threshold, then you’re better off walking away.

Content Mills Won’t Give You Credit

One of the major downsides of writing for a content mill is that you’re basically a nameless cog in their content-producing machine.

You’re essentially a for-hire ghostwriter and won’t get credit for your words.

If you DO get credit, say goodbye to the autonomy of your words. After writing for a content mill, I discovered that my words could be twisted and changed without my consent.

Content was included under my own name that misrepresented my style and quality. When you write for a content mill, be aware you are taking that risk.

The Return of Investment (ROI) is Poor

Again, newbie writers will be blinded by the dollah-dollah bills. But upon writing for content mills, it soon becomes apparent that the amount of work you’re doing does not correlate fairly with the compensation you receive.

A lot of companies use content mills because they know writers from developing countries will write for relatively low rates.

What can be a livable wage in a developing country can seem like peanuts in a country like the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, or Australia.

That’s why a lot of people dub bidding sites and content mills as a ‘race to the bottom’; there is always going to be competition or writers willing to work for lower and lower wages, and that’s because they can afford to.

You WILL Succumb to Burnout

If I can give one reason to not write for content mills, it’s the very real risk of burnout.

If you constantly churn out content that’s high volume but low quality, it can and will take a toll on your physical and mental health.

At one point, I wrote nineteen 1500-word articles in the span of two months. That was 28,500 words in an 8-week period, almost a novella’s worth of content at a breakneck pace of 1500–4500 words a week.

Given that I was most comfortable taking my time on one 1000-word post a week, this amount of writing stretched me to my limit and actually made me hate writing to the point where I had to quit for a while.

And those 28,500 words were not created in a vacuum; there were many hours of research and proper SEO formatting and editor rewrites involved to get each post to an acceptable standard where it could be posted on the content mill site. And all for $15 a post.

You’ll Be Afraid to Say No

There’s this insidious creep of demands when you first start writing for a content mill.

For the first content mill I wrote for, I informed them upfront I was only comfortable writing one post a week.

Initially, they complied, but soon they were asking for more content within the same scope of time.

Eventually, I couldn’t keep up with the demands and was quietly removed from the company (without being compensated for the writing I had already completed; the company only agreed to pay out at a certain level and I unfortunately did not reach it, so I was let go unpaid for time worked).

With the other content mill, the one where I experienced burnout, I was blindsided by an important feature of the job after passing their extensive orientation; writers were expected to commit to three articles a week at the bare minimum.

“Is that okay?” they asked.

In both instances, I should have said no as soon as the workload seemed excessive. But I was already invested in the job at that point.

I was also afraid; afraid of seeming weak and lazy, afraid that they would rescind the offer to let me work for them. So I complied, then underperformed.

Going forward, if I know in my heart the workload is too great — if it looks like they want content mill output at bargain-basement prices — I decline and move on.

There are many other people willing to take this type of work, but I know I’m not one of them, and I hope to save other unsuspecting freelance writers the agony of making the same mistakes.

So to recap, here are the five reasons why you shouldn’t write for a content mill:

• Content Mills Will Work You Like a Dog
• Content Mills Won’t Give You Credit
• Content Mills Offer Poor ROI
• Content Mills Are a Recipe for Burnout
• Content Mills Make You Afraid to Say NO

Have you worked for a content mill? What was the best and worst part about writing for a content mill? Leave your answers in the comments below!