Quiet Rebel Writer

By the time we’ve become freelancers, we’ve done our share of quitting. However the final scenario went down, whether it was in the heat of a righteous moment, a carefully plotted resignation, or one of those confusing half quit/half fired scenes, the kiss-off was made, and freedom was had.

So now we’re free of the commute, the infuriating office politics, the rigid schedule, and all the other crap we were desperate to escape. Our feelings of sheer joy are mixed with panic, cold sweats, and bladder control issues over the anxiety of making our own way, but that joy is there and it’s infused in every moment of our being.

Until it’s not.

There comes a time in every freelancer career when the “free at last” ecstasy gives way to the reality of day to day work. Usually, that bleak moment comes when the freelancer realizes that a client is making his or her life a living Hades. Just like that sickening Elton John song, it’s the circle of life (or freelancing). Whereas you had to quit to enter upon this storied career, what you hoped would be the last such confrontation as you embarked upon independent bliss, you are now faced with a choice of quitting a project and firing a client to restore sanity.

The prospect of quitting paid work, especially in the early days of a freelance career, is desperately frightening. It seems akin to inviting the shark to gnaw on your arm; turning down work seems superstitiously dangerous and a sure ticket to poverty. But the central issue is about respect and trust. Sometimes, clients (inadvertently or on purpose) take advantage of freelancers because we’re freelancers. They abuse the central tenet of trust that must characterize a good working relationship.

So what to do? There are all sorts of wonderful posts out there on how to identify problem clients and move on. There are treatises on the types of clients that cause you grief, reasons to fire clients, methods for doing so, and more. I won’t add much to this conversation. What I will do is share a case study.

Day 1
I receive a call from a local businessman seeking a writer for his website and other projects. I check out said website, and vomit a little in my mouth. The atrociousness is at 11, but I realize that I will be able to provide some major improvements for this dude. I offer proposal, and he accepts (with a bit of price haggling).

Day 2
We meet. He’s a gregarious fellow, and we enjoy a nice conversation about his business, his goals, his desires for the website and other content, and more. We agree that I will provide him draft copy within a week (a bit earlier than I truly can, but he seems anxious to get started).
Day 2, pm
The stalking begins. Two voicemails and several emails come from the client, following up on our conversation. All are sent and received between 8 and 10 pm.

Day 3
I go through his communication, and some more that’s come in. They’re contradictory ideas and thoughts, but they’re ideas and thoughts nonetheless. I write back thanking him for the notes, and indicate I’ll incorporate them into the draft. He also wants me to take care of a quick edit project not included in the proposal. I reason it will all come out even in the end. So I do it.
Day 3, afternoon and pm
More emails. I’m starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Good lord, does the dude never stop working? And doesn’t he understand I have personal time? I write a very pleasant email detailing my schedule, in order to manage his expectations a bit more.

Day 4
A Friday. He personally delivers my deposit check, for which I’m grateful (not only that it’s arrived, but that I charged it). He talks to me a bit more about ideas, and also invites me to his birthday party over the weekend. I hem and haw – I’m always a bit uncomfortable with non-work engagements with clients unless I’ve worked with them for a long time. And something about this party skeeves me out. I make an excuse.

Weekend
Calls, emails continue. I go about my business of relaxing and unplugging.

Day 7
Monday. Answer emails, and remind him that the schedule I sent him shows I’ll be getting him copy later in the day. I work on said copy, and am pretty jazzed about the results. They incorporate all the ideas we’ve discussed, and a few more. I send it off to him, proudly.
Day 7, pm
Several frantic emails and voice mails, telling me to cease and desist, and that we need to talk.

Day 8
We talk. His complaints are as follows:

• My unavailability at all hours of the day
• My copy, which he claims, and I quote, is too showy and pretentious
• My general demeanor
• My prices

I accept all his complaints, and very calmly apologize for any misunderstandings. No matter that I want to stab my eye out with my pen instead of doing it, I offer to start again and provide some new concepts. He gets angry, noting that that will take too much time, and that I’ve wasted enough of it by not getting back to his emails and calls. I remind him that I am a freelancer, but that doesn’t mean I am available at all hours of the day and night. He says quite plainly that’s what he’s looking for.

At this point, we’re at an impasse, one that can’t be resolved by a test of wills and iocaine powder. So I do the deed. I tell him it sounds like we both had misunderstandings about this partnership. I offer my deposit back to him, and suggest that perhaps another freelancer will work better for him. It’s the classic, “it’s not you, it’s me,” breakup, where I mean, “it’s totally you, you freak.”

The resolution? He insisted I keep the deposit, and bolted off the phone with undisguised relief. I hope he found that freelancer that will be at his beck and call for peanuts. Sometimes I think about him in the dark of night, and have nightmares about voicemails and emails. But then I wake in the morning, and realize all is well. Because I quit.

Do you have stories of quitting clients or projects?

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