Tuesday Take: Declining Freelance Work

What I’m listening to: I Remember Her by Ingrid Michaelson

Rabbit, rabbit, rabbit! If you don’t know that tradition, read about it here

Still recovering from the weekend. Friday, I was happy to spoil my husband for his birthday, so the day was spent baking his favorite cake (carrot) and taking him to dinner at a great restaurant.

Saturday I helped my son-in-law with his Halloween costume, and proved that I can use a sewing machine, though following YouTube directions isn’t always a great idea. Sunday, my husband gifted me a fantastic new bike, which we took straight from the bike shop to the trails. Fourteen miles later, we were home and soaking in a hot bath.

Yesterday I worked on a small project, talked with a potential client about a project, and got ready for trick-or-treat. It was a blessedly slow day, but the tension was still there. I waited for a contact to return revisions, which meant a story that needed to be filed on Friday is still in limbo. Not good.

Though there’s a delay in the project, the editor knows what’s happening. We have a good rapport, and I’m careful to make sure he knows where things are, particularly if I see a delay impending. He knows this one is out of my hands, but I still dislike when things don’t go as planned. And because I’m too punctual for my own good, I have fits when I can’t meet deadline, which rarely happens.

That situation, which will have a good outcome, got me thinking about a project I had not long ago in which the parameters became so crazy, I had to bow out. I’ve done that a few times over these last few decades. Doing so sucks, and doing so gracefully is a must. Even if you know that client will never recommend you elsewhere, you should leave with your head held high and your professional demeanor intact.

In my most recent case, that didn’t go as planned.

The situation was odd in that the job as stated was completed. Then suddenly, months later, it wasn’t. The details were strange, and I won’t share them to protect the privacy of the client. But there was a misunderstanding, and I was hit broadside by emotions and accusations. I did the stupid thing — I let the emotions guide my response.

I knew it was wrong because the job I’d delivered was approved already. I knew the accusations weren’t valid. I knew the complaint was based on erroneous thinking. It was someone overreacting instead of saying “Our policy is this, so we may need to change a few things…”, which I still didn’t have to comply with, but I would have to satisfy the customer. As it was, I agreed anyway to “fix” something that wasn’t broken. Instead, I should have paused, jotted down the facts, and gotten back to the client in writing. Then if a phone call was warranted, I could have done so not from a defensive position, but from an informed position.

As it happened, the project was completed a second time, to the client’s own parameters. Yet the client came back for what amounted to the seventh revision. I was done, and it wasn’t because the client was wearing me out (which is true), but because per the written parameters of four days prior, I’d completed the task.

There are only so many times you can travel around that same circle before you realize it’s time to exit. It ended badly, but it did end.

That’s just one example of situations where we may need to end things. I’ve had times when clients approach me for projects I simply cannot do. You’ve had that too, I suspect. Either you have no time, the job doesn’t appeal, or the price is wrong and outside whatever negotiating boundary you have.

Here’s how I turn down freelance work tactfully:

The pay dilemma: Don’t you hate breaking it to clients or client prospects that their pay and your expectations are worlds apart? It’s not as hard a conversation as you might think. The simple approach is this: “I see we’re not able to find a good middle ground that’s satisfactory to us both. I’m afraid I have to turn this down, but I thank you for getting in touch. Should the project terms change in the future, I’m happy to revisit this with you. Best of luck.”

The too-much-work moments: It’s Friday at 2 pm and you’ve finally sorted through several projects with deadlines for next week. And…here comes one more. With a deadline of Tuesday. From a favorite client. You push back on that deadline — “If you can move the deadline to Thursday, I can take it.” Didn’t work? Here’s what I say in that case: “I really wish I could take it — I love working with you. But I have XX other projects that have to be done next week. I’m really sorry. Please let me know if the deadline changes or if you have other projects I can help with in the future.” Don’t be afraid to turn it down if you just can’t do it. The client, if they’re a good one, will get to you sooner for the next one, is my guess.

You’ve come to hate the work: I used to write resumes — past tense. Cannot even think about them anymore. To me, they’ve become tedious time sinks. I can do them, but I choose not to. If you have that one thing you really can’t do one more time, there’s a tactful way of saying so: “Thanks for thinking of me, but I don’t handle those types of projects any longer.” No explanation needed. In fact, we writers tend to think we have to have an excuse for every move we make. We don’t. Think of a heating repair person who can’t stand repairing ductwork. Are you going to get an excuse? No. You’re going to hear “I don’t do that kind of work.” Keep it simple.

The client you need to drop situation: You see that email come in and you groan. The client is too picky/indecisive/volatile/cheap and you’re not interested in keeping this person on your client list. Yet how do you wave goodbye tactfully? I usually say something like this: “Hi X, Unfortunately, I no longer have the time that’s required to devote to your projects. I wish you well.”

When nothing is meshing moments: You’ve been at the revisions for days. The target keeps moving. Or you’ve realized your client is a nasty human when it comes to giving feedback. Or there’s emotional outbursts, condescension, anger, outrage, or any emotion that isn’t professional. You really want to say what you’re thinking, but you know someone has to be the adult. Here’s what I’ve said when those moments arise: “X, I think we’re at a point at which I can no longer help you. There are times when clients and writers just aren’t a good match, and this may be one of those times. I’m happy to help you locate a writer who may be a better match for your project. Thank you.”

Writers, in what other instances have you had to pull the plug on a project or client relationship?

How have you turned down projects or broken up with your clients?