When Julie Andrews sang that song in Sound of Music about her favorite things, it’s obvious her character wasn’t a freelancer. Either she’s an eternal optimist or she’s never waited months for payment.
And while there’s a place in the world for optimism (a very large place), there’s also room for a little skepticism and, dare I say, cynicism. For any of us who have freelanced for a while have heard any number of excuses or promises that turn us cold.
My least-favorite things include:
We need your W9/Social Security number/employer ID in order to cut the check. And you waited a month to tell me? Do you realize that one’s been told to me so often I volunteer this now at the outset? And that your accounting department has had that for three weeks now? Pay up and go away – in that order.
Invoice? What invoice? Client, you make me laugh. After the third one hits your in box with litigation notices, you paint that innocent look on and feign surprise that you never received it. A hint – that would work much better if you hadn’t acknowledged the first two.
Write this sample for us and we’ll decide if we want to use you. Really? Just give you an unpaid sample that’s three to ten pages long and you’ll think about hiring me? How about thinking about paying me for the sample? Or why not accept one of the hundreds of samples I have on hand? We writers are on to your kind – you’re never hiring anyone because you’ll just use all those samples and walk away. So just do me a favor – walk away now.
Why did you email the invoice? I was expecting it in the mail! This one made me laugh hysterically, client, because it was your response to my emailed invoice with the litigation notice attached. Funny how you saw that one but not the other two? And since we did ALL our business in email, why would you assume the invoice was coming snail mail? And you thought I’d feel guilty for not reading your mind. I did read your mind, and it told me you were stalling.
We’ve decided we’d rather not pay your original price for that. That’s interesting. You asked for it, you signed for it, and now when the bill shows up you’re refusing to pay. It’s great that you can make such managerial decisions, but your contractual decision overrides any “rather nots” you can come up with.
It’s an easy job for the right person. So that’s why the price is so low? Wow. I was wrong about you, client. Here I thought it was because you were cheap.
If I like what I see, you’ll be paid. How about this – you pay me for the time I put into it? See, if you really did intend to pay, you’d like what you see because you’d vet your writer, communicate your needs, and take time to work with the writer to get it right.
It’s a great job for students and stay-at-home moms. Thanks. Thanks for insulting everyone in that sentence, along with a bevy of writers. You’re implying that students and moms don’t deserve decent pay, and by advertising in the writing section, you’ve insulted writers by saying you deserve no more than a kid looking for an internship does.
What are your least favorite things?
6 responses to “Raindrops on Roses?”
"If you can work with this on this one and lower your price, we can send a lot of business your way."
A quarterly publication that says, "We pay withing 45 days of publication." And then pay about two months after publication, and only because you've hounded them and pointed out they've already exceeded their own ridiculously long timeline.
(This is true: I wrote the article in October, it was published the first of December, and I was paid in the middle of February. Oh yeah – the accidentally put in a different writer's byline instead of mine.)
But unlike some of Lori's examples, this place finally did pay up. They also sent a .pdf with the correct byline in case I wanted to use it for a clip.
I just thought I'd thank you for putting the raindrops on roses song into my head. I've been singing it most of the day now. At least I haven't tried to make clothes with the drapes yet. Good thing, since I can't sew worth a hoot.
Anyway, my least favorite things do include your list, but I would have to add this:
"It's okay that we pay low, because you get to WORK FROM HOME!!!!!" I know I've said it many times before, but that's something that gets on my nerves. I don't see how working from home is some huge benefit that one could allow pittance for pay. It's great to write from your home office, but wake up- it's not a trade for lower pay.
Adding to Wendy's comment: A good reply might be, "Yeah, but working from home is actually more expensive, what with overhead, health insurance, taxes…."
Crap. Taxes. I knew there was something horrible on my To Do list this weekend.
I think you just about covered all of mine too. Although the best one was (after contracts had been exchanged, fees agreed, deadlines met, and me fulfilling my side of things): "Why should I pay your extortionate rates when I have hundreds of enthusiastic amateurs prepared to do it for nothing?" Hey, buddy. Think about that next time and cough up.
I always have my tax reference in the permanent print on my invoice.
I always send invoices by email AND snail mail.
Oh, I hate that one, Eileen!
They redeemed themselves, Paula. Good!
Easy drapery clothing, Wendy – a hole cut in the center of the drape. Stick head through. Wrap a belt around your waist. Work it like you're meant to wear it!
Love your "work from home" one! I worked from home all this month. Grossed $6K. I bet they're not paying that!
Oh thanks, Paula. Just the reminder I didn't want! (Payback for the ear worm?)
Diane, I'm not a fan of the "Let's decide you're not getting paid that after the work is done" line, either. I usually tell them that after they pay the invoice we'd agreed on, they can find an enthusiastic beginner – and good luck. I don't want to work for people who don't value what I bring to their projects.