Quick! Your client prospect just asked what your rate is. What do you do?
You know your rate (or you should by now). That’s not the problem.
There are actually two problems here —
First, you probably shouldn’t be telling them your rate in that initial conversation (Jennifer Gregory has a great post by Elizabeth Hanes on this topic ). Instead, defer it to a more formal approach.
Second, how you frame it can mean the difference between getting hired and total silence on the part of the prospect.
Two examples illustrate what I mean:
In conversations years ago with Client A, I’d told him my rate was $1/word. He talked with me for five more minutes, then asked for a formal proposal. When I sent over the proposal, I heard nothing for three days.
I contacted the client, asking if he had questions. He said, “No questions. Your pricing is outrageous. Good luck to you.”
His unprofessional behavior aside, he reacted to this — $1 a word. And it was a price he knew in advance. So when I gave him a price for a year’s worth of projects, he knew what it would be, but it didn’t cushion his reaction. Then again, he could well have been someone who had no business dealing with contractors.
That exchange tempered how I approached the next negotiation, which came less than a month later. Here’s how that played out:
In a phone conversation, Client B asked for my rates. I promised to send over a proposal within 24 hours.
I sent the proposal, only this time, I listed out each project type that had been discussed and attached a final cost to it. I did not include my $1/word rate. Instead, I did the math and presented the total. Not only was I not insulted when the client responded, but I was hired. In that case, the client was able to see what services fit within her budget. She hired me for those, and eventually I ended up doing more for them over the next four years.
So what changed? The way I’d presented the cost. The price hadn’t changed — not at all. What changed was the presentation.
[bctt tweet=” How you sell your #freelancewriting rate is as important as what it is.” username=”LoriWidmer”]
So I’d presented the information like this:
- A 500-word blog post would cost $500.
- A 2,000-word white paper would cost $2,000.
- A 1,500-word ghostwritten article would cost … $1,500.
See? The same price.
What’s the difference? To you, nothing. To the client, it’s a psychological shift in thinking. They can see the final total (and I did mention that additional revisions beyond two would result in additional costs). That’s not scary.
It’s like when I mention my $150/hour consultation rate. Some clients get nervous, thinking I’m going to take 8 hours to write 800 words. So I don’t quote per-hour rates anymore. I figure the cost and give them the total without going into the “per hour” or “per word” rates.
Writers, have you had client prospects react badly to your answer to the price question?
How do you frame your own rate when talking with new clients?
6 responses to “The Secret to Selling Your Freelance Writing Rate”
I prefer framing it in per-project. In most cases, that lands me the work, and it’s a good situation for both of us.
Unfortunately, where I live now, most clients ONLY will deal in per hour rates — and they don’t want to pay more than minimum wage, because, you know, writing is something they “could” do if they have time. It’s not a “real skill.” I can’t tell you how often those exact words are used. What they consider a “fair” hourly rate ends up being about .03 an hour, if you break it down, and I’m not working for that. Which is why the bulk of my clients are not local. I have a few, with whom I have a good relationship, but the majority of locals who ask for a quote want it to work out to be 2-3 hours at minimum wage for something that should, at market rate, be a couple of hundred to a couple of thousand dollars.
In my previous location, I’d get pushback on my rate, they’d hire someone cheaper, it wouldn’t work out, and they’d come back to me and hire me at my rate + the rush fee. Here, they’d rather pay less for low quality work, because it’s more important to feel they got a deal than to get good work that would actually grow their business.
The other thing, here, lately, is barter. When I was in my twenties in Seattle, the barter economy was big and workable. But now, it’s not useful. Especially since most of the potential clients who suggest barter are offering me something I wouldn’t normally use anyway. I find the demand for barter especially strong in the over-crowded “health supplement” field. It’s not a field to which I pitch, but at local networking events, 40-60% of attendees are solopreneurs trying to earn a living from selling supplements. So you meet them at these networking events, and they don’t want to pay for their marketing materials. They want to offer you supplements in return. No, thanks. I can’t pay the rent or my utility bills or buy gas with supplements.
Therefore, most of the clients that pay real money are remote.
Oh, I agree with bartering. I bartered a few times back at the beginning of the career, but it’s not feasible anymore.
Your locals are crazy. No way they’d work for those rates, I’d bet. In fact, I’d be tempted to respond to their crappy offers with that very fact: “Oh, that’s the rate? Tell me, would you work for three cents an hour?”
Sadly, I think they wouldn’t understand how to vet quality writing from bad writing. That’s apparent in what I see in some local areas. Misspellings and lousy grammar aren’t even hitting the radar. Ugh!
I had the opposite thing happen couple years ago I applied to a job listing (I know, that was my first mistake) from a well known publication, seeking experienced freelance writers who specialized in covering the TV industry. No mention of rates, only that they required a minimum number of articles per month.
The editor replied quickly and set up a call. All went well until she described their fee structure: a $250 monthly stipend for I think it was 4 or 5 articles per month. She said the articles could range from 250 words to as long as I needed, which is not a good sign since it shows they’re focused on quantity, not quality, BUT writers had the “opportunity to earn more” based on like half-a-cent (or something equally outrageous) per page view. As I recall they had two tiers of the “bonus income” – one rate for the first couple of weeks, and a lower rate for long-term views. She said one contributor regularly earned $1500 a month.
I had to explain to her how professional writers get paid for our work, not for marketing and promoting their site. It’s not feasible for me to spend that many billable hours cranking out articles for $250 plus the hope that maybe one of my articles will generate enough traffic to earn a couple bucks more.
While the editor worked for the digital side of this well-known publication, she said there was always a “chance” that the magazine would pick up one of the website’s pieces. She tried arguing that it was better to earn $250/month for guaranteed work than try to sell a one-off article to the mothership. I told her I’d rather get one well-paying assignment and have time to work for other clients than write multiple articles for $250 and click-throughs.
Paula, that editor was arguing what she herself would never accept as a fair wage. I wish she were the exception, but I’ve seen far too much of it. The Atlantic online editor got roasted when he tried justifying why online content wasn’t compensated. An editor I used to work with was embarrassed that she could offer just 10 cents per word for heavily researched articles. Another potential editor client wanted something similar to what you were offered. It would have amounted to $80 per week for four articles a week. Uh, no.
Yes, like you, I’d rather take the chance with the mothership publication. At least you’re not working your ass off (and occupying precious billable hours) for pennies on the dollar.
If they make money off my work, so should I. And a fair wage, not these promises of more that will never, ever come.
I’ve NEVER understood the arguments for why online contributors are paid so much less than contributors to some of these top-line publications. The costs to run a website are minuscule compared with a print title – no printing costs, no shipping costs. Sure, they command a heftier price for ad sales, but since it’s the same company spread the wealth. (And I’d expect that most of those ad deals probably include online advertising as part of the package, anyway.)
EXACTLY. They have very little overhead with an online pub — no printing costs, to say the least — so why are writers being punished? If the editor from The Atlantic is any indicator, it’s because they have a ton of content to put out now, whereas with a magazine they have a lower amount per month, not per day.
Still, that should never equate to my problem as a freelancer. I’m running a business, as well. Giving away work isn’t smart business. At all.