Saying No to Freelance Writing Prospects

A conversation I started on a LinkedIn forum went something like this:

This has been on my mind a while. And with so many writers struggling (some of them for longer than imaginable), I thought this topic might be appropriate.

Writers, it’s time you become picky.

Ask yourself these questions:

1: When was the last time you turned down work?
2: When was the last time you should have but didn’t?
3: How’d that turn out for you?
4: When was the last time you doubted yourself? That includes how many times you’ve asked “Gee, should I get in touch again?” when that client has gone silent.
5: When was the last time you negotiated with a client over pay?

The conversation was popular. In my opinion, it’s also an important one we need to be having with ourselves.

So we’re going to have it. Right here.

I want you to think of the last five potential clients you’ve interacted with. Not actual clients — potential ones.

In thinking about those conversations, which of these things happened:

• They told you what the job paid
• You told them what you charge

• They gave you a rather short deadline
• You pushed back and asked for more time

• They handed you a contract that required liability insurance or you to take on part or all of the liability should something go wrong
• You negotiated better contract terms

• They wanted you to work without a contract
• You sent over your general contract

• The deal went forward without negotiation
• You said no and walked away

Be honest. Which one did you actually do versus the one you know you should have done? You don’t have to tell me. Just be honest with yourself.

I had a conversation with another writer about this very thing. She was concerned that if she turned down a client, even one who was handing her terms she wasn’t happy with, she’d miss them during the slow periods. Well, here’s a freelance truth you can take to the bank:

[bctt tweet=”You will never regret dropping a #freelancewriting client that doesn’t fit.” username=”LoriWidmer”]

Never. Let me say it again — never.

Here’s why that’s so: When you turn down a client that doesn’t fit, you make room for one that does. But you do something else, too.

You adjust your own mindset.

The ability to turn down a client that doesn’t fit means you’ve put yourself in a position that is equal to that of the client. Too many writers walk into negotiations thinking they have to cave on everything, and that the client’s terms are the only ones that count.

Bullshit.

Your terms count, too. Let’s put it in a different perspective. Imagine your client and you talked about a freelance writing project that would take 35 hours to complete, including interviews and research. You go to your calculator, and figure a price. That price: $8,000.

Your client, however, has a different calculator. Their figure: $500.

Are you taking that job? Hell no, you’re not. I don’t care if that’s the gig you think you’ll use to get into a new area — some things are just ridiculous. That’s ridiculous.

So why should negotiating better terms with a more viable client be any harder?

It shouldn’t. Because it isn’t.

Recently, I turned down a client. In initial conversations, I’d quoted $4500 for the 25-hour project. In subsequent conversations, they behaved as though I’d never spoken. Their “rate” as they put it was $1400.  Hard pass.

Could I have done that gig? Sure. But look at the time I’d have wasted, the money I’d have lost, oh, and the pressure I’d have been under — they wanted me to turn it around in two weeks. So every existing client would have had to take a back seat to the one who was underpaying me and demanding more.

That’s how you should be viewing every new prospect.

Take that lousy client you have or have had in your past. Think about what went wrong, what you could have done differently. Did you assert your own needs? Did you negotiate? Or did you let fear get in the way?

Think about why it didn’t work out, or why it became a nightmare. If you could go back and do things differently, how would you change it?

The answer you come up with is your new approach for every potential client who crosses your path. No one will stand up for your writing business besides you. Treat every interaction like two equals trying to come to agreeable terms. Sometimes you will, sometimes you won’t. And that’s okay.

Writers, how did you get over your inability to turn down clients who didn’t fit?
What advice would you give writers who are stuck in “yes” mode?