A writer friend and I had been discussing a project she’d been approached for. A work acquaintance had approached her with a client who wanted a writer for a long-term gig. The client needed an editor, and the editor would be handling the editing of government agency content for a blog. The list of skills was that of an editor who also could produce content. No problem.
Except that’s not what the client wanted. Instead, the client was now saying they wanted someone who could assign stories and route them through writers, and who would oversee that content being delivered and published.
A production editor.
Only there was more.
The writers? They’re not actually writing. They’re going to be reviewing content from the clients regional offices and then aggregating them into one source document. Never mind that a lot of the information from each office across the country is going to be specific to that region. Didn’t matter — the job is to aggregate and never mind those niggling little details.
Wait. There’s more.
The website is slated to go live at the end of the year. The content has to be written by agencies and then aggregated by a slew of writers, then the now-production-traffic-manager person has to make it all happen.
Wait. There’s even more.
This client? It’s not a done deal. It’s a maybe client — no signed contract. So no work has begun.
Anyone else notice it’s nearly August?
All writing, aggregating, fact checking, and publishing is still on hold.
Oh, and they were paying $40 an hour.
Right. Next!
My friend has been freelancing for decades. She knew the minute there was a shift in what they were calling the contract position that there was a problem. Her red flags were waving before she read further.
But what if you’ve not been freelancing that long? What if the jobs you get are ones that are exactly as advertised? Are you going to be able to see the warning signs?
Here are a few things to look out for:
[bctt tweet=”#Freelance red flag #1: Changing job title.” username=”LoriWidmer”]
That’s an easy one to spot. If the job is supposed to be for a writer and suddenly they’re calling you the editor or project manager, you need to be asking some questions. Mainly — what exactly are the skills you are needing for this project? What are your expectations of this writer?
[bctt tweet=”Freelance red flag #2: Changing parameters.” username=”LoriWidmer”]
I think the more disturbing portion of this project — for me, at least — was how the job described became something completely different. There was no editing of written documents. There was funneling of work, corralling freelancers, and making sure the aggregated documents didn’t omit what they were obviously going to be omitting — key information that spoke to regional variances.
The chance for scope creep. Right there. If it were me and I wasn’t already gone from their orbit, I’d be asking for written descriptions of what this job entails. What are my duties? What aren’t? How will my results be measured?
[bctt tweet=”Freelance red flag #3: Dodgy pay rates.” username=”LoriWidmer”]
This job was pretty firm in its $40/hour rate, but not all are. I have been in situations where the job described was paying $125 an hour only to drive an hour both ways to meet with people who then said I needed to lower my rate because they’d only budgeted $90 an hour. Or the $200 per blog post in the emailed conversation becomes $150 per post on the phone (and don’t think I don’t correct them).
They can say what they want. They can change that price a million times — the only time it sticks is in your contract language. And if they’re that dodgy on what the job pays, you definitely need a contract.
[bctt tweet=”Freelance red flag #4: Contradictory points of contact contradicting each other.” username=”LoriWidmer”]
Show of hands — how many of you have had the initial conversation, including all of the above points, with a marketing person or company rep, then in the next conversation with the actual boss of the project find out that no, that’s not what we’re doing/paying/needing. I know I’ve had that. In the times I’ve decided to go forward with the client, I’ve made sure the decision-maker is the one I get input from on every project. Let’s just say once or twice in the past, I’ve been told “This is what Janet wants” only to find out Janet didn’t want anything resembling that (after I’d written, of course).
There may not be a foolproof way to avoid getting entangled, albeit briefly, with gigs and projects that simply don’t fit with what you expected. That doesn’t mean you can’t say no once the actual parameters come to light. In fact, always reserve your right to walk away if the job isn’t going to fit. Doing a little vetting up front means less of a chance of being in an untenable situation later on.
Writers, what are your red flags?
What are some of the more memorable situations you’ve had to decouple from?
4 responses to “How to Vet That Freelance Writing Gig”
In the last 6 months, 90% of the conversations I’ve had with the person with whom I’d be working directly proved that the job was NOTHING like it had been originally framed by the person who initially contacted me. The lying and the bait-and-switch is out of control. Also, more and more places are trying to get away with not having a written freelance contract. No. Just no. Now is the time we need to be firm on boundaries, because there’s always an excuse. They’re using the pandemic now, but earlier it was “lack of skilled workers” — which was never the case. Next year, it will be something else. They need to stop lying and start paying appropriately for skills.
They’re out in droves, aren’t they? I had a conversation with someone in email that was very promising. The phone conversation was even more promising. Then in follow-up communication, they wanted me for full time work. Would I be considering a move to their area (which is hundreds of miles from where I live and would rather stay)?
That shows a client who isn’t good at managing expectations, among other things.
Yeah, and they expect one to move to their area, but on our dime. Nope. If your job is good enough for me to relocate, you’ll be paying for the move, thank you very much.
It’s odd how the “requirements” for freelance differ from what’s actually allowable by law for full-time employees. I love those “You’ll be available for 12 hours a day by chat” directives that aren’t paying full-time wages or benefits.
We could go on. There are so many examples, sadly