Do You Take Ownership of Your Writing Projects?

I was cruising the blogroll the other day and came across this post on Peter Bowerman's blog about what clients want--and how to go above and beyond with your services. One of the things he mentioned was taking "ownership" of a project--if the client isn't giving you what you need to get it done, go out and find it yourself.

It occurred to me that I do this all the time--and it wasn't something I saw as a big benefit to working with me until now. Here are a few ways I take ownership of every project I do--and how you can add value to your services.

Do the research on your own--even if the client's supposed to do it for you. I call myself a writer, but at least half the time I spend on a project is spent on research. And some of the time, a client will tell me he's going to send me all the source material and either a). it doesn't have the specific information I need or b). he sends it a day before deadline. Good thing we have the Internet. I use web research to supplement client-delivered information on a regular basis. For commercial writing, I use it to check out how competitors are positioning themselves. Sometimes this research takes minutes, other times it takes hours--but it always adds to the quality of what I do.

Get your own sources. Got a feature article to write for a client? Sometimes they'll give you the names and numbers of people to interview, and sometimes they won't. Don't let that stop your article from being the best it can be. I gather my own sources when I need to. I use Craigslist, industry forums and websites, industry bloggers and authors--the last two are often delighted for an opportunity to get word out about their book or site, and can be very willing to do interviews. I also use Peter Shankman's excellent Help a Reporter Out site. You can query for the type of source you need, and an email is sent out to its network of professionals. I've used it many times in the past and got dozens of responses from industry experts--easily more than I needed.

Deliver above and beyond. If I find little things I notice a client needs, I'll usually help them with it--even if it's not in the scope of the project. For instance, I was writing copy for a large website project--almost a hundred pages--and I noticed the company didn't have a consistent tagline. I sent off some concept ideas for new ones, even though it wasn't part of the scope of the project. I realize a full tagline project would be a big endeavor, probably more than I could offer for free, but some initial ideas weren't too hard for me to come up with--and it added to the value of my service.

Help clients figure out where to go from here. With some clients, I spot opportunities where they could be promoting themselves better or more efficiently. After completion of an initial project, I'll draw up a "Next Steps" document outlining different ways they could take business to the next level--including things such as writing different brochures targeted to several niche markets, developing a report or e-book for giveaways, or starting an e-blast campaign to keep constantly in touch with customers. It's usually not included in the scope, but it does help clients out--and it's pretty effective in turning single-project clients into regulars.

So how do you take ownership--of projects and client relationships?

When the Client is Tone-Deaf

I recently had a client who ran a luxury linens company. Her product evoked luxuriousness, indulgence, and expense. Her target audience had more than enough extra income to spare. She needed a new website--and she loved the writing I did for a previous client. She wanted exactly the same thing on her site. The problem? That previous client was a rock band photographer. His writing was edgy and cool and pushed the envelope. Her business was totally different in nature and appealed to a totally different audience.

I wrote up something I felt was in keeping with her audience and product. She wrote back saying it wasn't edgy enough. Okay, but that's totally the wrong tone for the audience. What do you do in this situation? I'm a bit torn. I want the client to be happy. I want the project finished on time without endless revisions chasing an edgy tone that just doesn't match the subject matter. But I also want it to be appropriate.

So what do you do when the client is tone deaf? My first option is to rewrite everything (and it's a large project) with a crazy edginess that's totally inappropriate to the audience, but that makes her happy. Option two is to explain why I feel that's not a great idea (and that's presumably why she hired me, right? For my marketing expertise? Or maybe it was just for my ability to write edgy funny copy?) I'm hoping there's an option three, a middle ground where I can add a touch of edge here and there while keeping the tone consistent with the product and audience. But I'm not sure if there is a middle ground for this one.

Have you ever come across a situation like this before? What would you do?

Is the Client Always Right?

Recently I wrote copy for a small postcard flyer. The company was quite technical, but I came up with a snappy concept and covered all the required benefits and bullets in concise, attention-grabbing professional prose. Proud of myself? You bet. The client loved it--but wanted it more wordy and "busy."

Wordiness is definitely not always a good thing--especially in a short promotion that needs to capture attention and get info across quickly. As I've matured in my business, I've found myself coming up against clients who have disagreed with me on what's effective much more often. And I'm starting to suspect that it's not that there are just more of these clients around--but that I'm more clued in to what works and what doesn't.

When I first started out, the client always knew best. Lately, however, I've begun to respectfully disagree when I've suspected I might know more about something than the client does. That's why I was hired, presumably--because I bring to the table an expertise that the client lacks. So I make suggestions. I point things out. Sometimes the client sees my point and is happy for the feedback. Other times I get more polite versions of "just shut up and do what you're told."

What's your experience with disagreeing with clients? Do you speak up when you feel it's warranted, or is the client always right?

Business Terms: Are They Ever Personal?

Just recently I got an email from a client that I hadn't heard from in a while. I'd done some bulk work with them a while back, where I'd provided ten or twelve articles a month for two or three months. The work trickled out and the client and I parted ways, but just recently he got back in touch with a one-time article writing project. Following my normal business procedure, I sent over a contract defining the length of the pieces, price, and payment schedule. That's when the trouble started.

The client wrote back saying he was offended to be asked for a 50% deposit upfront, because he believed we were past the "initial stage" of doing business together. He also "refused" to define a length for the articles, saying he wanted them to be whatever length was needed to give a thorough accounting of the topic. He felt I was treating him like a first-time client and wasn't giving him the freedom he needed to get the articles just right.

This gave me pause, even though I've worked with this client before with nary a problem. For me, business terms are never personal; they're just the conditions under which I do business.

However, I do work without a deposit sometimes--only for clients I have a history with who are ordering regular amounts of work each month. A few of my clients use me as a "go-to" writer and will ask me for random work--sometimes small, sometimes quite large--consistently throughout the month. Sometimes I'll do 20 or more small projects for a single client in a month. In these cases, it's onerous to the client to have to contract and pay 50% up front for each project, and they sometimes can't predict what they need at the beginning of the month so I can't charge them up front for everything at once. When this happens, I draw up a general contract and bill at the end of the month. This client was operating on a contract like this, because for a while he was a regular. But once he returned for a single one-off project, I billed him under my typical single-project business terms--50% up front.

I would have considered waiving that requirement for him if it had been the only issue. However, the fact that he didn't want the length of the articles defined really bothered me. The thing was, I was perfectly willing to write with no consideration to length--and told him so. But if there's no limit on length, there can't be a limit on price either--and he wasn't satisfied with that arrangement. Ultimately, it seemed he wanted to contract for a longer work and pay the price for a shorter one.

Unfortunately, this client and I couldn't see eye-to-eye and parted ways. This can happen, even for regulars you think you know well. Very rarely, I've had a prospective client tell me he feels a deposit isn't a "friendly" way of doing business or it indicates mistrust, but I'm not in this business to make friends. I'm here to make money, and I tend to resist people trying to control me by telling me I'm not being nice. Nice girls don't make waves or stand up for themselves. Professional women do.

Signing Client Contracts: What to Watch For

Over at the Irreverent Freelancer today, I spotted a discussion on client contracts: do you insist on one? Will you sign a contract given to you by a client? If so, do you go through them with a fine-toothed comb, and is it OK to question the terms?

I usually give clients a contract of my own to sign--it's really more of an informal letter of agreement laying out my terms (and if you want to know what should go in your own letter of agreement, look here). But occasionally I get a client who wants me to sign their contract--either instead or in addition. I'm fine with this, but I definitely think it's necessary to go through it--and I have made change requests to clients before. If they refuse, it can be a dealbreaker. Here are a few things I look for in contracts clients give me to sign.

Non-compete agreements. Many clients will ask you to sign some sort of non-compete agreement. Much of the time, this simply states you won't give away company secrets to competitors. If they're a middleman client--like a web design company, ad agency or SEO firm--they may ask you not to work directly with their clients for a set length of time.

Once I was signing on to work as a copywriter for a web design firm, and the contract's non-compete agreement said I could work with no other companies that did work similar to theirs--this included web design, SEO, e-commerce of any sort--while I was working with this company. Obviously, this was a dealbreaker for me. I explained my situation to the client, and they were willing to take that clause out.

Payment only upon acceptance. Sometimes clients will put a clause into the contract stating they won't pay you if they review the work and find it "unacceptable." This is dangerous for writers. What constitutes "unacceptable" is hardly ever spelled out. Theoretically, it allows clients to simply decide not to pay you no matter how good a job you did. I will never take a project when the client insists on this clause in the contract.

When and where you can use samples of the work. This isn't a dealbreaker for me, but it's a good thing to be aware of. Every so often, a client won't want you to use samples from the project on your website or in your portfolio. Once I had a client ask me to sign a contract saying I wasn't allowed to advertise, list them as a client, or put them on my resume. I didn't really mind this--it was a well-paying, possibly regular project and I didn't see this as a reason to walk. But still, you need to be aware of it. Like Peter Bowerman, I often use samples without getting written permission first. If I had missed the fine print on the contract and then posted that particular sample, I could be in trouble.

A payment schedule that doesn't match with yours. I do 50% up front and 50% at the end of the project. Exceptions are rare--for a handful of regular clients I bill at the end of the month, and for some very large projects I'll spread out the schedule to three or more payments. But I almost always insist on an up-front payment. Client-given contracts rarely spell that out, so I make sure the client's fine with me adding the payment schedule into the contract.

Weird terms. Once I had a client give me a contract that said I wouldn't get paid unless I posted the sample of the work on my website, with links back to the client's site. The kicker? The client got to specify what anchor text I used as links. I didn't like giving clients this much control over what's on my own business site--especially in my sample section, where everything has to be just right in order to showcase my writing ability to best effect. I asked to take that clause out of the contract, and the client complied.

Lack of clarity about third parties. Sometimes you'll be working with a middleman--a web designer or SEO firm that works with clients of its own. If this is the case, it needs to be clear who you're working with. Some of my middleman clients ask me to talk directly to their own clients--and with others, I never speak to the third party. Other complications arise when your web design firm doesn't want you to give the client a direct quote, or when it's not clear who's actually writing your check. These are things that may need to be written into the contract, if not at least explained clearly to you.

Kill fees. These are more common in magazines and newspapers, but I had an online news site once that insisted on it. A kill fee clause states that the client has the right to pay you a percentage of the original fee--something like 20%--if they decide not to use your writing for whatever reason. I generally don't accept contracts with kill fees unless the project is an article that I would be able to sell to a different magazine--and I make sure the rights revert to me if the client decides not to use the piece.

Clients who don't want to give you their contact info or sign the contract by hand. This is just something to watch for whether you're using the client's contract or your own. Clients who won't give you their address and phone number, or who try to convince you that their typewritten name is just as good as a real signature, are definitely questionable.

There's no reason not to sign a client contract if your client is more comfortable with that. But you do need to read over it to ensure the contract covers your butt as well as theirs. I usually don't sign client contracts without some sort of change to ensure my terms will be honored--and I also make sure the project scope, timetable, cost, and other basics are clearly spelled out. Don't be afraid to ask for changes. If the client says no, listen to your gut. It may be OK to go ahead with the project anyway--I've done this before. But if you can't get your client to change a clause that really worries you, it may be best to pass on the project.

What's Your Recurring Nightmare?

Over at Lori Widmer's Words on the Page, Lori mentions a recurring client issue: clients bringing in groups of outside people to edit her work. Over at another of my favorite blogs, the Irreverent Freelancer seems to get a lot of clients who try to find excuses not to pay after the project is completed. I've rarely had this happen (knock on wood), but I do have my own recurring client issue: clients who disappear after the first draft.

Most of us have some sort of client issue that happens over and over again. If you find this happening, here are a few actions you can take.

First, ask yourself: Is it you? If a certain situation keeps happening, it's not unreasonable to think you might be inviting it in some way. For those clients who disappear on me, I've definitely done things that have made the situation worse and may have led clients to believe they can get away with it--like not insisting on having a working phone number and address on file for every new client. It's a danger when you're a basically laid-back person and you communicate with clients primarily by email, but the problem with having only an email address is a). it's easy to ignore and b). it doesn't always give you a hint as to where the person's located in case you get in trouble. It helps to know where people live.

Know the signs. For me, there are two types of clients who are likely to disappear after the first draft: clients who take forever to get started on the project, and clients who need it yesterday. The first type can take weeks to get your signed contract back; you'll think the project is off after a while, and then you'll hear back weeks later. It's pretty common. The second type, in my opinion, is likely to be disorganized and gets all anxious about not having a certain type of copy that some marketing guru probably told them they needed. Then once they get it, they aren't thinking about you anymore--they move on to other things--and you've got to push for feedback and payment.

Have a procedure in place. My procedure for nonresponding clients involves letting them know up front that if I don't hear back from them after a certain time, I'll invoice them. I also make sure I have all the information I need in place to pursue payment, if I have trouble getting it. While nonpayment has been very rare in my experience, delayed payment isn't unusual.

Nip it in the bud. Getting a certain type of client problem over and over means you get plenty of practice dealing with it--and eventually you'll learn how to spot the signs and prevent problems before they happen. With time, you may be able to make that recurring issue a non-issue.

What's your recurring issue?

What Professionalism Isn't

I found a post today at JCME's blog about professionalism, and it got me thinking. You'd think that the word isn't hard to define, but my view of it has changed a lot since I started. While my definition of what it is might be a work in progress, experience has definitely taught me what professionalism isn't.

Being a robot. "Business" doesn't mean "no personality." Clients are more likely to bring you repeat business if they like you as a person. It's okay to loosen up a bit when talking to clients and let your personality come through. Naturally, you'll have to use your best judgment when talking about outside interests and family situations, or when making jokes. You'll have to pick appropriate times and places, and make sure your brand of humor isn't the type that might offend. But bear in mind that your clients are people too, and they can relate to you on a personal as well as a professional level.

Being a know-it-all. You might be good at what you do, but that doesn't mean you know everything there is to know. Talking with clients can be a frightening prospect for beginners, because you'll worry that you might not know everything. But people who come across like they know it all can strike clients as condescending and unwilling to listen to their needs--even if you think you're just sounding professional by lecturing the client on everything he's doing wrong on his current campaign. Sometimes when you're meeting with clients, the best strategy is to listen.

Taking on more than you can handle. I don't offer graphic design or programming services. I'm learning more about these things every day, but I still don't trust my skills enough to be comfortable selling them to clients, and I'm not sure I'll want to even when I'm confident in them. Sometimes being professional means knowing your limits and being able to tell clients when a job wanders into territory you're not too familiar with. It's fine if you're not good at everything; in fact, many clients prefer to hire freelancers who have a specialty in only one specific area.

Saying "yes" all the time. When I started, I thought that being professional meant never saying "no." As you might expect, this got me into some really bad situations--allowing myself to give deeper discounts than I should have; making myself accessible on IM all the time; even taking frequent, uncompensated, rambling phone calls after business hours. Every time I got into a situation like that, it was a learning experience--and eventually I figured out that professionalism doesn't mean that you have to give everything clients ask for. You do want to make your clients happy, but not at the expense of your business, your other projects, or your sanity.

Taking on every project that comes your way. There was a period of time where I thought turning down work was unprofessional. If I didn't get a great vibe from the client, I would think something like "well, Bob Bly would probably be able to handle it, so I should too." Actually, someone with more experience might have listened to his instincts and passed on that job--or added a hassle surcharge. It's okay not to take every job that comes your way. Some projects might not interest you, might not pay rates you can accept, or might just seem a little shady. Part of professionalism is developing good instincts about when a job will be more trouble than it's worth.

At the moment, my definition of professionalism involves being confident and knowledgeable in your area of expertise; being conscientious in dealing with clients; having high standards for quality of work; and knowing what you can and can't take on. Do the best job you can with every project and set limits both you and your clients can live with, and you'll be most of the way there.

Why They Won't Pay: Crazy Client Excuses

I've been on a kick lately about late-paying clients. I'm currently chasing one down right now, and just finalized payments from two others last week. The score so far is Me: 2, Late-Payers: 1. I'm still waiting on that one straggler.

Anyway, all this waiting and chasing has inspired me to write down some of the most annoying excuses I've had--or heard from other writers--on why clients won't pay.

We've decided we're not going to use it. It astonishes me how often people assume that because they've decided they don't want to use your work, they don't have to pay you. This is pretty common in print--and I've ranted about it before--but in copywriting and web writing (and in my business practices, generally), it's not too common. And it shouldn't be, in my opinion; it's exploitative and it gives clients far too much power.

I actually have had a client tell me he'd decided he wasn't going to use something I wrote for him, and expect some sort of discount. Maybe he was a magazine editor in a former life. Anyway, I pointed out that since there was no kill fee clause in the contract, he was liable for the whole amount.

We had to have someone else rewrite it. This hasn't ever happened to me, but I've heard of people telling writers that because the copy came through with so many grammatical errors, they had to actually hire someone else to rework the writing--and then they took the amount out of the writer's pay check. If this happened to me, I think I'd have a good case in small claims court. I'd bring in my client's original directions so I can show how I followed orders and delivered what they asked for, plus the copy I handed in so that I can show that it's error-free. I think that it wouldn't necessarily come to that, but knowing that I had a good case would give me the confidence to bring out the big guns and threaten litigation if necessary.

We can't pay you til our clients pay us. I've had to tell a client before that the contract states "payment due within 30 days of invoice date" regardless of their financial situation. It's amazing how many times I've heard people using this excuse. It's not like I can tell my landlord that since my client didn't pay me, I don't have to pay rent on the first of the month. In my opinion, this excuse shows a clear disrespect of freelancers and I've been known to get irate when I hear it.

The check's in the mail. No, the check is never in the mail. I've had a client who was months late on payment swear up and down that she sent the check out the minute the invoice touched her desk. When I told her I never got it, she made a big show of checking to see if it had cleared her bank account--and then had the nerve to subtract $20 from my payment for the cost of cancelling the "original" check which never existed.

Oh, that's not my department. You need to contact billing. Except "billing" doesn't exist. The runaround is definitely frustrating, especially when the person your client tells you to email doesn't get back to you. I usually wait a few days after emailing nonexistent billing departments, then send a firm email to the client that the billing department never replied and that I expect him to take care of it, or I'll have to ask my lawyer to get involved--depending on how long it's been since I've invoiced.

The vast majority of clients I've worked with have paid within a reasonable amount of time. Of the late-payers (knock on wood), I've always gotten paid eventually. Excuses might infuriate you at the time--but when the check clears, you'll start laughing.

Your Writing Held Hostage

It's always an uncomfortable situation when your client appears to be in a hurry, insisting that you rush to get their work done--and then they take weeks to get back to you on revisions. When half your paycheck is tied up with those revisions, these delays can become a hassle.

So what do you do with nonresponsive clients? Here are a few things that have worked for me.

Don't lose your cool. First, take a deep breath. It can be stressful to worry about whether or not your client intends to walk off with your payment. If it makes you feel better, though, this is relatively rare. I've dealt with hundreds of late-paying clients, and so far (knock on wood), I've never had anyone fail to pay me.

But late-paying and nonresponsive clients are pretty common. Maybe they really are so harried and busy--or so flaky--that they forget you exist after you send in the first draft. My personal theory is that some people just hate parting with their money, so they procrastinate as long as possible. But they aren't actually out to cheat you. They simply allow themselves to forget. If you force most of these people to make an active choice not to pay you, most of them will pay up. Those who are comfortable making the choice not to pay you are the crooks.

So how long should you wait before you start to worry? It depends. I remember when I was first starting out, I got nervous about a client who didn't pay me after a month. I asked a question on a writing forum I belonged to, and everyone said I was crazy for worrying about a month delay--some clients took 90 days or more to pay, and that was normal. But most of those writers worked offline. In web writing, a month is a pretty long delay. I usually start to wonder if I don't see a response to a draft or a payment after one or two weeks, depending on the client.

Set a deadline. If I've sent in a first draft and haven't heard back from a client, I usually give it a week. I'll then send them a note asking about the draft--and I'll let them know that if I don't hear from them on revisions by a certain date, I'll assume everything is fine and send over an invoice. It's important to keep the tone friendly and casual.

Don't rewrite time-sensitive material. I signed on to write for a blog once. The agreement was to write one post a day, and posts couldn't be written too far in advance because the client wanted them to reflect current events in his field. I would submit the posts to draft by deadline, and the client wouldn't sign off on them by the due date--so they'd never get published. Then he'd get back to me weeks later saying, "you know that old post you wrote about widgets? That's out of date now. Can you rewrite it so that it's about flanges instead?"

Don't do it! You shouldn't do revisions that require you to do a major rewrite based on anything outside the original directions. If the client asked you to write a post about widgets, he can't come back later and ask you to rewrite the same post about something else--not without paying for a second post. If the content is time-sensitive and he didn't get back to you in time, that's a cost he should absorb.

Don't let it go. Those procrastinating clients will "forget" about you forever, if you let them. For some writers, it can be easy to just shrug it off and move on to the next gig. This is a dangerous habit to get into. Don't cheat yourself by failing to chase after the money that's owed you. 99% of the time, you'll get your check eventually--but you have to be persistent.

Don't take on new projects with them. I try to weed out nonresponsive clients as much as possible--they're just too much hassle to deal with on a regular basis. If I do work with them again, I'll usually charge more for the added hassle of chasing down my paycheck. At the very least, ask for a larger upfront deposit.

If you pester a client about your draft and you don't hear back after a certain period of time, send an invoice. If they don't respond to the invoice, it's time to take it to the next level. Dealing with a non-paying client is a hassle, but there are plenty of resources out there that will help you. Check out this article for more information.

When Charging Rush Rates Backfires

I got a request last week for a rather large project with a due date in just a few weeks--a fraction of the time I usually take to do this type of work. I didn't really want the project--I'm already booked up for the next few weeks. Instead of simply saying "no" and pointing the client toward a colleague, I quoted a fee well above what I'd normally charge for the project, believing the high price would scare them away. It didn't.

Now I'm looking at a truckload of work in the next few weeks, several other client deadlines looming, and the distinct possibility that I'll be a very sleep-deprived writer by the end of this project. I'm also looking at a mountain of cash. So it certainly isn't all bad.

What did I learn from this? That rush jobs can be tricky, even if they're lucrative. Here are a few questions to ask yourself--questions I'll definitely ask next time--when you're considering whether or not to take a rush job.

Will this job affect your other clients? Taking a rush job often means pushing other clients to the side while you rush to make a tight deadline. Sometimes you can afford to do this--your other clients may be flexible, or you may not need much time to finish their work. But if you're down to the wire with your existing work, you may want to consider passing on that rush job.

No matter how well-paying this new client is, there were people in front of him in line. You can inconvenience yourself as much as you want--you're the boss, after all--but it's only fair to avoid inconveniencing other clients, no matter how small their projects are. Be sure you're treating everyone who's depending on you fairly.

Are there enough hours in the day? Don't make the same mistake I made, quoting a high price and believing it will scare them off. Before you take that step, think about whether this deadline is possible for you. Know how fast you work. How many hours of writing will you have to do per day to meet this deadline? Will you have to do interviews, interact with designers, or depend on others in any way? Make sure you're not setting an impossible goal for yourself.

Is the client more trouble than he's worth? Rush jobs often come with stressed-out clients. As a freelancer, it's crucial to keep the client's problems from becoming your own. When a job is rushed, you're much more likely to be stuck dealing with a demanding client who wants unlimited access.

Because these clients are under a lot of pressure within their own companies, they can also be prone to "forgetting" to give you crucial information and materials until the last minute, delaying on draft comments, and then blaming you when you miss a deadline. It's important to take these risks into account, as they can slow you down. It's also crucial to communicate that you need certain things--an up-front payment, comments on a draft, a signed contract, et cetera--to move forward with the project. Instead of setting a specific start date, for example, make it contingent on receiving a payment from the client. If the client knows the deadline will be pushed back for every day he delays on your deposit, he may be in more of a hurry to pay you.

Can you outsource? Sometimes you can stand to earn more by outsourcing your pre-existing work to someone else to free your schedule for a more lucrative job. A rush job isn't the best time to get into outsourcing for the first time or to work with a brand-new outsourcee. If you don't have a dependable partner whose skills match the work, you may want to reconsider outsourcing this time around. If you do outsource, it's best to make sure your clients know about it and approve.

Rush jobs can be more trouble than they're worth. But they can also pay very well. Even though the client's rushing you, take some time to think about your capabilities before you take these projects on.

Remembering the Process

Not to brag, but I rarely get asked for revisions.

When I think about my time in college when I learned to structure an essay, I remember how much emphasis was placed on the process. You never got anything right on the first try. The first draft was just a draft, and while sometimes it counted for a grade, it was never perfect. It usually came back with at least a few marks from the dreaded red pen.

How different it is when you're writing for a living.

When I started freelance writing, I was just a couple of years out of college. And I still thought of writing as a process. I never assumed that the first draft would be perfect, and it never occurred to me that clients would not expect revisions. But when I started working, I was surprised when my first paying client accepted my work on the first try: "That's perfect! Just what we wanted! Send over an invoice!" I was thrilled that she loved it, but I was also wondering what happened to the process. Are you sure? I wanted to ask. Isn't there some way this could conceivably be better?

As time went by, I had a lot more clients who loved the first draft. Less than a quarter of my clients asked for revisions. And I realized that there was sometimes a gulf between a client's expectations and the way I had been taught to view my writing. There's a small but vocal minority of clients who believe that since they're hiring a professional, they should get a perfect product on the first try. And sometimes they're so shocked and amazed that they don't get a picture-perfect first draft that they're willing to take their project to someone else--or they might try to get out of paying the writer. Just look what happened to the poor Frump.

These clients don't understand that any writing activity is a process, not a one-shot deal. And as a professional writer, you can ask as many questions as possible on the front end--but there's still some possibility that you'll misunderstand something, the client might misstate something, or you'll both just have different visions for the piece. Creativity is not an exact science.

These days I rarely do get asked for revisions. I've learned to ask questions, check out websites on my own, and try to combine client-given info with what I observe about their business. I also choose writing projects that fit my strengths, and try to screen for clients who are a good match. But every so often, I do get asked for revisions. And sometimes they're extensive.

Once, I had a client who was so dissatisfied with the first draft that he stopped the project partway through. This was when I was just starting out, and it really affected my confidence. It also made it very clear to me that some clients don't see writing as a process at all--that they expect a home run on the first pitch.

To this day, I still think of that project when I get asked for extensive revisions. It hasn't happened again so far--of those who've needed revisions in the several years since, all have been able to work with me to get things exactly right. But it shows me that I've come to expect the same thing from myself that some clients expect from me: perfection at all times.

Maybe it's time for me to re-learn what I used to know: writing is a process.

Listening to Your Instincts: A Freelancer's Guide

When I first started out as a freelancer, I didn't know which clients were going to be a joy to work with and which were going to be--well, less than a joy. There may have been some obvious signs--everybody knows not to do work on spec, right?--but the more subtle clues eluded me. Still, I did experience some feelings of uneasiness at the start of some projects but not others. When I look back on the projects that have turned out well and those that haven't, I've noticed that those little pangs of uneasiness usually crop up right before a train wreck. Here are a few of the things which, looking back, were signs of bigger troubles to come:

There's a problem with your terms. Whenever I take on work with someone who contests my terms, I do it against my better judgment. And it usually doesn't work out well. Assuming your terms are the usual--50% up front, no copyrights until full payment has been made, a well-defined exit strategy, etc.--a client who doesn't like your contract may not trust you, may have plans to shortchange you in some way, or may not respect you as a businessperson. Either way, it's a sign to run for the hills.

The client wants you to come down in price--but not on quality. When I look back at some of the projects I've had that didn't work out as well as I'd hoped, they almost all started with some dispute on price. This isn't always true--I have several wonderful regular clients who occasionally need some back-and-forth on price--but the difference is that these clients know I set my prices a certain way for a reason. If they want a reduction, they understand they may have to make some changes to the scope of the project.

Clients who want to haggle right off the bat are not only draining and stressful to interact with: they'll also nickel and dime you to death, creep their scope all over the place, and change their minds while expecting your prices to remain the same. Now, if a new prospective client tries an aggressive haggle right away, I rarely decide to work with him.

The client doesn't know what he wants. This can be a tough one: the client who doesn't have any idea what he wants, but he knows what he doesn't want when he sees it: and what he's seeing is almost always your first draft.

Once I worked with a client who had absolutely no idea what he wanted in terms of tone. I interviewed him to get a sense of his needs, and his directions were conflicting. I asked him to send examples of what he liked and didn't like in similar projects, and he got back to me days later to tell me he couldn't find anything to send. I should have gotten out as soon as possible. But I needed the money, I didn't have a lot of experience, and I had high expectations for myself. I did my best--and the project quickly turned into a big, slavering monster. He didn't like a single word I wrote, and every time I sent him a draft, he would say something like "that's not what I was looking for--let's try a whole new approach." Finally I started to put my foot down about scope changes, he got mad, and, well...it wasn't pretty.

Anyway, now I'm hesitant to work with clients who don't have a clear idea of their own expectations. No matter how good you are as a freelancer, you can't be expected to read minds. For the relationship to work, the client needs to bring something to the table as well.

There's a style mismatch. Sometimes a prospective client wants something outside your stated specialty. Much of the time, I relish these jobs--it gives me an opportunity to test my abilities and try something new. But sometimes what they want is just too much of a stretch.

I'm not wild about writing with an over-salesy tone. I'm good at it--I took the AWAI course on sales letters, and several times my reviewers told me my work was the best they'd ever seen from a student. But I don't find that type of writing enjoyable. So now if someone wants a hard-sell piece, I generally refer them to someone better suited to it.

Most of us have our strengths and weaknesses--and if a prospective client's project fills you with dread, you don't have to take it on. You're the boss, after all.

The client wants your Instant Messaging ID. Every so often, a client will want to keep in touch with me via Instant Message. The problem with IM is that it comes along with an expectation: that you'll always be on and available. Most clients who want my IM name have wanted it so they can see me in the corner of the screen at all times and "keep in touch." Occasionally, they'll check in unannounced. One client actually got mad at me because I wasn't at my computer when he IM'ed me--and it took me about ten minutes to respond. Now, I don't make myself available over IM.

The wrong tone in the initial contact. Once I was out of town on a weekday. I checked my mail that evening when I got home, and there in my inbox was a message from someone who wanted to hire me. The message went like this: "I need someone to rewrite our website copy. I've tried to call you three times on the number listed on your site. Please get in touch ASAP." She called me three times? I was a little apprehensive about this one: she sounded like an overanxious hoverer and not much fun to work for. I took the project against my better judgment--and boy, was I right.

It takes time to develop a freelancer's instincts. And it can be interesting to sit down and list the things that give you pause with a prospective client. But it might be worth it to define what makes you think twice--and why. This may help you sort the future train wrecks from the pleasant projects.

How to Hang On to Your Best Clients

I just saw this article on "clients from hell". There's something cathartic for me about reading other freelancers' experiences with problem clients. It's fun, it gives me a laugh, it tells me that it's okay--everyone has these experiences from time to time.

I can see I'm not the only one who feels this way. Clients do get kicked around a bit on the blogosphere. But one of the things I like most about reading others' horror stories is that it reminds me of how lucky I am. Because, yes, I've had some horror stories of my own--but I've also been blessed to work with a lot of terrific people. So this post is for them: How to hang on to your favorite clients.

The super-informative client. This guy knows exactly what he wants and how to communicate it. He shows you samples from other sites, reviews his own previous copy and discusses what's good and bad about it, knows his audience very well, and answers all your info-gathering questions in detail.

This client puts the time in on the front end so that you'll get it just right on the back end. Keep him happy by listening more than you talk. He's not looking for a freelancer who takes an idea and runs with it. He's already got the idea, and he knows what works for his audience. You just have to put it in motion. Deliver what he asks for without drama, and he'll come back to you time and again.

The really-great-with-money client. You know you're a freelancer when you get excited that someone pays you right away. This client is fantastic with the money. You need a deposit? It's in your PayPal account within the hour. You've just delivered the final draft? The remainder is in the mail before you send the invoice out. In a world where payment can be weeks or months late and your cash flow can slow down to a trickle while you wait, these clients keep you floating.

These clients are conscientious, and they know what's important to you. To make them happy, give them the same treatment. Respond quickly to their emails. Get your copy in before deadline, if you can.

The no-fuss-no-muss-no-bother client. This client is easy to please. She always loves the first draft on sight. She never has a problem with your terms or contract. Everything goes smoothly when you work with her.

I'm lucky in that I have a nice collection of no-fuss repeat clients. Even if they don't start out that way, a client can become no-fuss over time as you get used to each other. To keep these guys happy, try to be a no-fuss freelancer. If they hire you regularly, think about charging them monthly instead of billing them for each project.

The regular client. Here's the client who pays your rent every month. He gets in touch at the beginning of each month, regular as clockwork, with a nice, easy, lucrative job. He knows your style and always sends projects your way that draw on your strengths. Collect a few of these and you may be tempted to kick back and let your marketing slide--that's the only down-side.

You never know who's going to turn into a regular client. Do your best for each one every day, even if the job you've picked up is a tiny, last-minute project you could do in your sleep. My favorite regular client's first order from me was four quick 600-word articles, and I had no idea he would become such a big part of my business.

The fun-and-unpredictable client. This one always has something interesting and creative for you to do. Whether it's writing poems to describe the products on their kid's pottery party site, song lyrics for their wedding, or a rant on printers to make into a viral video--they've always got something new and fun up their sleeve. You love seeing an email from her, because you never know what's coming next.

To keep this client happy, be willing to stretch outside your comfort zone a bit. Video scripts may not be your usual, but the client has faith that you can do it--and you may just find you love it. But you also need to know your limits. If she wants something you know you can't deliver, refer her to a good specialist.

The super-complimentary client. This client always makes you feel like Super Copywriter. She loves what you've done. You're brilliant. You're amazing. The best writer they've ever worked with. After a project with this one, you feel like you can conquer the world.

This client obviously loves you already--so keep doing what you're doing!

The Sticky World of Price Negotiation

In an ideal world, there would be no price negotiation. The price a writer offers and the price a client wants to pay would match up every time. But even with ongoing clients who are used to my prices, I do sometimes go through some back-and-forth on cost when it comes to new projects.

I used to get stressed out every time I had to deal with a negotiator. But after doing it a few (hundred) times, I realized that most people are reasonable. Most of the clients I’ve had who’ve tried to negotiate this way didn’t understand why I set a certain price. If you know what to say, you can get them on your side.

It’s not just about the length. Sometimes a client will think that 500 words is 500 words, no matter what the project is. But I charge different rates for press releases, online articles, print-quality articles, web copy, et cetera. Sometimes two 500-word articles will be priced differently depending on the subject, the audience, and the amount of research involved.

I’ve had good results explaining that what keeps costs up isn’t word count: it’s time. It takes more time to craft a print-quality article, because of the research and interviews involved, than it does to write an online how-to. It takes longer to write an article for an expert audience than for a general audience. When a client understands that your pricing is based on a time estimate and not a word count, he may be more likely to come around.

Value makes a difference. Direct mail copywriters sometimes charge thousands for a simple eight-page document. Part of the reason is the time and research it takes to craft a well-honed sales letter. But a big part is the money the client stands to gain from that letter. If your work could earn a company millions, you should be charging more than a few hundred bucks for it. Even a few thousand is a drop in the bucket.

Like most writers, I’d charge more for a website’s landing page than I would for a newsletter article. That landing page, if done right, could boost a company’s bottom line significantly. It’s a high-earning piece of writing, and it needs to be priced according to its value.

There’s no free lunch. Once I was talking price with a prospective client, and he wanted to get me to come down. He offered a price about $200 less than what I’d stated. I said something like “okay, I can do that if we leave out this, this, and that.” He responded that he wanted a reduction in price—without a reduction in quality. He actually laughed while he said it, I think because he realized midway through how ridiculous it sounded.

More recently, I had a client with a specific budget in mind for a project that involved some time-consuming research. The piece itself was short, but the information he wanted to include was going to take some time to find. I told him that I could meet the lower price only if the information covered was more general, and this worked out for both of us. Reasonable clients understand that to get a writer to go down in price, they may have to make some compromises.

Know when to let go. Some prospective clients aren’t reasonable. They don’t want to compromise their expectations for a lower price, they don’t care about the value a piece offers, and they feel a short piece of writing should be cheap—no matter what. I’ve taken on clients like this in the past, despite my better judgment. Every time, I was battling scope creep throughout the project. Now, when a prospective client doesn’t listen to reason on price, I know it’s time to let go.

Want to Keep Good Writers Away? Say This.

Looking around Kathy Kehrli’s Irreverent Freelancer site (which I highly recommend), I came across a link to a press release from this joker. His press release gives advice for hiring writers on Elance, a bidding site where I sometimes pick up extra work. The advice he offers makes me laugh—because he tells people to say exactly the type of things in their bid descriptions that will drive the high-quality writers away.

It’s inspired me to give some advice of my own to people looking for experienced, qualified, fluent-English-speaking professional writers to craft their website content. So, anyone out there thinking of hiring a freelancer: If you want us to stay away from your job posting, here are a few things you should say.

This is an easy job for someone who knows what they’re doing. This is the first one I look for. It tells me the client either underestimates the job, or doesn’t respect the work that goes into it. It also tells me that if I get hired, investigate further, and find out the job is more work than the client’s letting on, he’ll tell me I don’t know what I’m doing—and possibly, since this is Elance, broadcast that on my feedback. It’s an indication of drama I don’t need.

Heck, you get a free education just listening to us. This is another thing the press release suggests clients say. It comes off as arrogant, for one thing. I've learned plenty of interesting things from client projects, but I'm working for a living, not a free education.

I also had a bad experience with a client once who wanted me to write a lot of very high-level content for a technical audience. He resisted paying me a wage that would cover the research time. His claim was that I was getting a “free education.”

Payment only upon completion. This tells me the client has unreasonable expectations or hasn't worked with freelancers before. 50% deposits are the norm in the freelancing world. Most pros are leery of working with those who don't do deposits, especially first-time clients.

Will be willing to pay up to $5 per article. This isn’t the type of wage that will attract a decent writer. This is a slave-labor-in-India wage. If you want to attract professionals, you have to be willing to pay professionals. An experienced and skilled freelance writer generally has plenty of well-paying clients. What incentive does she have to take on a project offering a third-world rate?

We can’t pay you, but you’ll get lots of exposure. I do sometimes write for free, if I think the exposure I get is worth the time. But in general if a business doesn’t have enough money to pay freelancers, chances are it can’t offer much in the way of exposure, either.

There are plenty of excellent writers out there who can do a lot for your business. But most pros tend to be at least a little selective. And these phrases are guaranteed to drive the good writers away. You may get third-world labor, moonlighters who don’t make a living at it, or even brand-new writers trying to break in and build a resume. But you won’t get high-quality expertise. To do that, you have to respect the writer as a businessperson and pay a reasonable fee.