For the past couple of weeks I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’ve been dismayed by the particulars of running my own business. Toward the end of last week, I decided to do something about it and fired a client. This may sound simple enough, but when your survival depends on keeping a steady stream of clients and projects coming in the door while an equally steady stream of invoices is going out the door, bidding a client farewell is terrifying.
For several months now I’ve been working with a guy who tries to manage the development of case studies for a small company in the Midwest. The only problem is that all the customers I’ve been assigned to write case studies about thus far are not happy with their purchase. That’s a problem, obviously. “We use the product because we’re forced to,” does not make a compelling customer quote. Rather than confront that, though, the client sends me very detailed notes about how to draft mail to customers, how to draft mail to the salespeople I speak with before contacting the customer, how to address the customer so that he doesn’t feel like I’m requesting his participation in the case study but that I’m calling or e-mailing to confirm an appointment already made. Two weeks ago, this client called another freelance writer with whom I collaborate on many projects – including his – and who is a very good friend of mine, to ask her to keep an eye on me because my communication style is wasting his salespeople’s time. Which is funny, because the salespeople have said the same thing to me about him, which is awkward.
I realize it must be unpleasant when people say your products are crap, but when the finger pointing begins, my sympathy for those in unpleasant circumstances evaporates very quickly. In my experience, finger pointing is always a sure sign that someone is trying to cover up his own mistakes. Reading this, you have to take it on good faith when I say that I am open to criticism about my work. Some projects go better than others. Sometimes I don’t deliver the best I am capable of. Sometimes I miss really significant aspects of a business story because I’m lazy. Sometimes I take the easy way out and rely on the cliché clutch rather than taking the time to find out what someone really means when they say they’ve increased productivity. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ll make more mistakes, and I’m happy to talk about them and hopefully learn from them.
What I’m not willing to do, I discovered last week, is play pointless parlor games that ignore the fact that the customers are unhappy and instead revolve around “the approach” I take in e-mail. That’s like blaming a building’s collapse on the type of handles on the kitchen cabinets while ignoring the fact that the foundation was rotten.
Anyhow, all of this got me thinking about the advice I’d offer my former client, if only we worked in a more honest business, including but not limited to:
· Assume that the freelance PR people you hire because they’ve worked in the field for many years are as familiar with the dirty tricks of the trade as you are.
· Assume that the freelance people you hire because they’ve worked in the field for many years find those dirty tricks so distasteful that they started their own businesses, which they love for the most part.
· Assume that when one freelancer refers another, they probably know each other fairly well, and they may even be good friends who compare notes after speaking with you, especially when you tell lots of lies.
· Assume that state-to-state calls can be easily made.
· Assume the present tense will end in five minutes, and then everything will shift.
· Assume that the guy who owns the company you now work for is a former colleague of one or more of the vendors and that a nice friendship may have developed over the years.
· Assume that sooner or later your name will come up in a conversation between the guy who owns the company you now work for and your freelancers.
So Friday morning, when I received this guy’s e-mail requesting a status update, which he sends weekly, I wrote him back and told him I couldn’t continue working on case studies that never get off the ground. My colleague and friend wrote her reply on top of that, saying essentially the same thing. I was very professional and courteous in my e-mail, as was my friend, but I do so look forward to accepting his invitation to “connect on Linkedin” when he launches his job search.
For several months now I’ve been working with a guy who tries to manage the development of case studies for a small company in the Midwest. The only problem is that all the customers I’ve been assigned to write case studies about thus far are not happy with their purchase. That’s a problem, obviously. “We use the product because we’re forced to,” does not make a compelling customer quote. Rather than confront that, though, the client sends me very detailed notes about how to draft mail to customers, how to draft mail to the salespeople I speak with before contacting the customer, how to address the customer so that he doesn’t feel like I’m requesting his participation in the case study but that I’m calling or e-mailing to confirm an appointment already made. Two weeks ago, this client called another freelance writer with whom I collaborate on many projects – including his – and who is a very good friend of mine, to ask her to keep an eye on me because my communication style is wasting his salespeople’s time. Which is funny, because the salespeople have said the same thing to me about him, which is awkward.
I realize it must be unpleasant when people say your products are crap, but when the finger pointing begins, my sympathy for those in unpleasant circumstances evaporates very quickly. In my experience, finger pointing is always a sure sign that someone is trying to cover up his own mistakes. Reading this, you have to take it on good faith when I say that I am open to criticism about my work. Some projects go better than others. Sometimes I don’t deliver the best I am capable of. Sometimes I miss really significant aspects of a business story because I’m lazy. Sometimes I take the easy way out and rely on the cliché clutch rather than taking the time to find out what someone really means when they say they’ve increased productivity. I’ve made mistakes, and I’ll make more mistakes, and I’m happy to talk about them and hopefully learn from them.
What I’m not willing to do, I discovered last week, is play pointless parlor games that ignore the fact that the customers are unhappy and instead revolve around “the approach” I take in e-mail. That’s like blaming a building’s collapse on the type of handles on the kitchen cabinets while ignoring the fact that the foundation was rotten.
Anyhow, all of this got me thinking about the advice I’d offer my former client, if only we worked in a more honest business, including but not limited to:
· Assume that the freelance PR people you hire because they’ve worked in the field for many years are as familiar with the dirty tricks of the trade as you are.
· Assume that the freelance people you hire because they’ve worked in the field for many years find those dirty tricks so distasteful that they started their own businesses, which they love for the most part.
· Assume that when one freelancer refers another, they probably know each other fairly well, and they may even be good friends who compare notes after speaking with you, especially when you tell lots of lies.
· Assume that state-to-state calls can be easily made.
· Assume the present tense will end in five minutes, and then everything will shift.
· Assume that the guy who owns the company you now work for is a former colleague of one or more of the vendors and that a nice friendship may have developed over the years.
· Assume that sooner or later your name will come up in a conversation between the guy who owns the company you now work for and your freelancers.
So Friday morning, when I received this guy’s e-mail requesting a status update, which he sends weekly, I wrote him back and told him I couldn’t continue working on case studies that never get off the ground. My colleague and friend wrote her reply on top of that, saying essentially the same thing. I was very professional and courteous in my e-mail, as was my friend, but I do so look forward to accepting his invitation to “connect on Linkedin” when he launches his job search.
