The Writing Client Interview (Theirs, Not Yours)

As I get longer in the tooth with this freelance writing business of mine, I’ve come to realize some truths.

As your client is interviewing you, so too are you interviewing your client.

That’s a big one, actually. It’s one a lot of new freelancers don’t recognize.

It’s a truth that can take a ton of pressure off, too.

A family member recently interviewed for a job. She went in for the face-to-face interview and did something different than simply answering questions. She asked her own, and they were intended to reveal the type of employer this company was.

In fact, the interview became rather odd when they focused more on whom she might know who needs a position in a different department rather than her qualifications for the position she was applying for.

Strike one.

She’d fashioned questions to get a sense of the culture and of the people she’d be working around all day.

• What is the company policy on remote work?
• Is the person in this position going to work independently, in a team, and with how much managerial oversight?
• When there is a customer issue, how is it typically handled? Who needs to be involved?

The first question netted curiosity and plenty of dialogue on how remote work is handled in this family member’s current position. They wanted to know how it works, how the company she works for has it structured, and if it hurts productivity. None of this conversation had one thing to do with the position she was applying for.

Strike two.

Strike three came when they couldn’t answer the next two questions satisfactorily. They weren’t sure who was going to be involved in a customer issue, nor were they sure how much teamwork was involved or how much management she’d be receiving. When the company VP came in and made awkward statements (“How much do you make? Oh, we’ll be paying you a TON more than that!” for example), she knew.

This wasn’t her job.

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That same type of questioning — by you — can reveal quite a bit about your potential client.

I remember a client interview that started out well.

He was a local business person who needed a business book written. His email description of the book sounded straightforward enough.

He wanted to meet in person to discuss it further. At that point, I’d not agreed to anything and he’d not hired me. It was still fact-finding for both of us.

Or so I thought.

His office is 10 minutes from my house, so I agreed to meet him at lunchtime.

He was nice on first meeting. Remained nice the whole way through, actually.

As we talked, he described the business book idea. It was weak, but I wasn’t concerned. I could ask him questions to get to a better product.

Then something happened that I still cannot explain.

He started talking about his successes, which led to his personal life. His wife, his kids, and his divorce.

Uh….

I’ve been around plenty of excitable people. I’ve been around people with bipolar disorder, too.

That second one. That was what was happening.

His speech became more erratic, and he somehow morphed from writing a business book to writing a children’s book.

Huh?

As I tried putting him back on the business book track, it was clear he wasn’t interested in that anymore. Yes, in the span of 30 minutes, he’d changed course entirely.

He went on about what a good guy he was. “Ask my ex-wife. And my mom. They’ll both tell you.”

Then his colleague tapped on the door to ask a question.

He introduced the colleague, then said “This is Lori. She’s writing my book.”

Remember that part where I’d agreed to nothing yet?

He didn’t.

I looked at my watch and feigned a conference call I had to get back to. We parted and he said he was excited to work with me.

I shook his hand and said “Good meeting you” and left.

—

Later in email, I went over the points we’d discussed. I asked him very direct questions:

• Are you still committed to the business book idea?
• Are you talking about two projects? Or is this one project? Which one?

Mind you, there was little chance I was going to take that job. I was still fairly new to the freelance writing world, but the flags were waving all over the place. But I wanted to be certain. Even if he had bipolar disorder, that in itself isn’t a deal-killer. What is, however, is a client who has no direction.

Luckily, it took just one email.

His answers were just as unclear as his speech in our face-to-face. He wanted to do both, but maybe the children’s book now took priority (I’m giving him way too much credit for being that clear — it took him a few paragraphs to get to that conclusion).

Then he said it —

The children’s book would help him regain custody.

I’m out.

I wasted one more email to turn down the job and to tell him in frank terms that anyone who connects child custody to a writing project is dooming themselves to both disappointment and failure. And that no writer with any self-respect would take on that project because it was surely going to disappoint him.

Did I burn a bridge? No way. That wasn’t my client. Ever. He was the one holding the matches.

That his mother had emailed me with a glowing report on her son — that would have done it on its own. Luckily, her email arrived mere minutes after my farewell email. Otherwise, I’d have let him have it for sharing my email without my permission.

Yep. That bridge was singed beyond recognition.

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When you interview your next client prospect, ask smart questions. How do they envision the end product being used? Who is involved? What’s their expectations regarding communication? Have they worked with freelancers before?

As they talk, listen to how they’re responding. What isn’t being said? Ask that question. I like to listen for pacing of speech, tone (are they conversational and friendly or is this all business?), and the way they describe your role (is there a long list of requirements, or are they asking how you typically work with clients?).

Writers, what key questions do you ask your prospective clients?
Have your questions ever spared you a bad client experience?