I got another marketing email the other day from a one-time prospect that will never be a client. That’s by my choice.
The emails were what first made me reach out to this particular company, which is in my specialty area. They were signed up for the same conference I was hoping to attend. So early this year, pre-pandemic, I reached out. We talked on the phone. We chatted about the industry, and dug into a few details on how I might be of some help to them. I offered to do some small projects for them for a month or so to show them how what I do could lift some of the weight of communications and marketing from their desks.
It’s what happened next that convinced me not to spend more time pursuing their business.
Sometime a few weeks later, my contact reached out and asked if I could get on the phone with him. He had a proposal.
I prepped. I had everything in front of me that we’d discussed, and the ideas I wanted to go over that could give their marketing a bit of a boost. As it turns out, I didn’t need any of it.
They were offering me a position. An in-house, on-staff, full-time position. The word “director” was in the title.
And it pissed me off more than a little.
Can anyone guess why? Normally, a job offer, particularly one at the level this company was talking about, would be a golden thing. How many job seekers struggle to climb the corporate ladder, and here was a firm saying to me Here’s your brass ring! Grab hold and we’ll take you in!
Yet there I was, stewing. It was one more case of a would-be client suffering from what I call Employee Syndrome.
[bctt tweet=”Employee Syndrome: Thinking every #freelancewriting pro wants to be your full-time employee.” username=”LoriWidmer”]
Here’s why I got so upset:
They weren’t respecting my business.
Yes, one could argue that they were gracing me with what they thought was a huge compliment — they thought enough about my background to want to put me on staff. But they overlooked something pretty critical. My business. I run a business. Just like they run a business. They were, in essence, suggesting an acquisition. Well, without my bringing on my other clients. But it was a surrendering of sorts of my financials, for I’d be working for them exclusively. Wow, I wonder if they do that when someone comes to fix the HVAC? Hire them to be the director of environmental control?
And another thing they forgot:
I wasn’t looking for employment.
I’d contacted them about partnering on projects. I didn’t ask them for full-time employment, nor did I suggest I wanted to move to another state (really). I suggested numerous projects and possible marketing initiatives. They countered with a job compiling accounting reports. Let’s just say that was a big miss.
There was one other thing going on that did not sit well:
They didn’t understand how to deal with a contractor.
Maybe the word “freelance” threw them. There is a negative connotation to the word sometimes, as in “starving artist” or “playing at writing.” Be assured, any future client who may be reading, “freelance” means nothing more than I work independent of any one company’s control. I work on multiple projects with multiple clients. I’m not playing at it, as my current clients can affirm.
This issue is probably the only one we writers can address with any potential client. It’s up to us to manage expectations with any new client. So when a client offers up how they want to work with you, that’s okay, but you should be setting your own work process. They can’t assume you’ll turn these projects around in 48 hours. If you don’t say anything, however, you will be doing just that.
But hey, take this job instead of us hiring you as a consultant? That’s up to you, but I’m running a business, and that business isn’t a staffing agency with one skilled worker to place, thank you.
One more thing bugged me, albeit a minor thing:
They wasted my time.
It’s true that not all marketing hits the target. But we were in conversation. We were discussing project possibilities. They knew I am an independent contractor. To then take what amounted to about three hours of my time over a few days and throw a curve like that was too fast a turn for me. And they weren’t even interested in the projects anymore. They’d made up their minds that I needed to be employed, not contracted. Moreover, they thought I needed to be employed in a position that had nothing to do with anything we’d talked about. I knew any convincing at that point was a waste of more time.
Why? Because that one move told me this:
They can’t think beyond traditional.
To me, that spells disaster on so many levels. They think employer/employee relationship, which means someone has to be subordinate. They think of one business approach, which means evolving is going to be suppressed. They think everyone wants to work for them, which means they don’t see their own internal weaknesses. Or worse, they do and ignore them. They also claimed ownership of the relationship and tried to control the outcome to suit what they wanted.
That’s not to say clients used to doing things traditionally cannot adapt and evolve. Many do. But to ignore an entire conversation that never once mentioned full-time employment was the hint that evolution was not in the cards for this company. And they’re good people, I’m sure. They’re just not my people.
That’s why this prospect is no longer a prospect.
So what’s the lesson here for us freelancers?
Know when to cut bait. Know when the meeting of the minds you’d expected won’t happen. Replay those conversations in your mind. Reread those emails. What is that client prospect really saying? Are there any clues that would lead you to believe any continuing efforts will be worthwhile, or are you starting to see roadblocks that are disguised and corporate norms? Are you hearing one thing, but another thing is being conveyed in writing?
If there’s a lack of clarity of their position, make an attempt to clear it up. If the waters get even muddier, walk away. If a prospect isn’t understanding how you work — or if they don’t want to change how they work — that’s not your next client. No relationship worth having is built on frustration or ambiguity.
Writers, have you ever had a client try to hire you full time instead of on a project basis?
What clues do you get from prospects that tell you they’re not a good fit?
12 responses to “Writer Beware: Employee Syndrome”
I have never had a potential client offer me a full-time gig. But I have invested a couple of hours in thoughtful, promising conversations with potential clients—two which went so far as to send me contracts and request w9 forms, saying they will have assignments for me soon—only to have them ghost me. One was a couple years ago, the other was just a few months back. (They say they’re waiting for the “right” project for me, yet said they loved the fact that I’m so versatile. Huh?)
Pro tip: Don’t send freelancer contracts and other forms until you have an assignment for them.
This. All day. Don’t send mountains of paperwork without work! It’s a waste of time on both sides. And you sure have been ghosted, Paula. That latest one clearly doesn’t know how to work with a contractor.
And you are versatile. 😉
There was a client once who had me sign a NDA, contract, go through an online email course, AND they wanted me to buy $2 million in liability insurance to cover, get this, anything their people would do to harm their reputation. I refused the last part, and I went through all that other junk, including onboarding for a freaking contract job. Know what came of it? A project worth $500. Yep, they wanted me to obtain an insurance policy that did not fit my profession at ALL and pay $1500 annually for it just so they could have one job completed.
Ha! That’s almost as bad as the time I was negotiating with the public library to host a freelance writing workshop. For free. They sent me a liability waiver – I could check a box saying I had $1 million (or was it $2 million?) in liability insurance OR a box saying I would assume all liability for all injuries, accidents, and damage (“including normal wear and tear”) to the facility for the day of the workshop.
What? I asked a local poet who does frequent readings and workshops at the library, and she had never once been asked to sign a waiver. I wrote to the library’s board and our then-Mayor, since the city funds the library about it, explaining why it was unacceptable – no definition of “facility” – just the workshop room? the whole building? the entire library system? It covered the full day. And everything in it should be covered by the library’s own insurance. I even said that as a tax payer, I was appalled to think the library I help fund might not be properly insured, LOL.
Also the most recent ghost client also had me sign an NDA.
Great info. Did you really say they wanted you to do accounting reports? Hmmm.
Really said that, Gina! Crazy, since we never talked about that. At. All.
I think the part that gets me most is that they had to know you spent time prepping for a completely different meeting than the one they planned (as you point out). It is crazy the extremes of how writers are perceived – either wannabe artists or special geniuses. It really can be a skill. : )
Almost fourteen years in I still have people telling me about job openings, often for work that pays substantially less than I make now. It really gets under my skin. Like, did I ever say I was looking for work?
I get the “are you still freelancing?” question a lot. I think after 17 years of full-time freelancing, they can kind of stop asking, right?
Apparently not. I get asked that too. And maybe I’m over sensitive, but I always feel like there is another part of the question that is left unspoken: “…or did you find an actual job?”
I get that every so often. I usually reply with something like “Thankfully, yes. I’d hate to have to go corporate.”
A little off topic, but do you run into the liability insurance issue with contracts a lot? I’ve come across it a few times, and each time I refused to sign unless it was removed. I lost a couple of potential clients because of it. One of them told me something along the lines of, “well, we’ve never had to actually ask a freelancer for it.” But it is still there in black and white that I would need to provide the details if asked.
I have run into it, though not a lot. And I won’t agree to it, either. It’s a client trying to pass the risk on to you, which isn’t the way it’s supposed to work. I get why they do it — they would for any construction contractor, for instance, where they’re onsite or making changes that could impact health and safety. But not for writers. Please.
They have approval responsibility. If they approve that job, that’s on them. It should never be on you unless you’ve done something so heinous — fraudulent quotes, plagiarism, etc. — that it really is your fault.
They have errors and omissions insurance, or they should. That would cover it. And I know some insurers do press their customers to reduce as much risk as possible by transferring it to their contractors. But again, writers?