I recently got a note from a fellow FLCW and friend of mine up in New York. Here’s what he wrote:
Peter: Do you sometimes anguish over the waiting period, after you’ve submitted work to a client and then anticipate their thumbs-up or thumbs-down response? As I write these words, I’m waiting on a client to whom I sent what I believe is some pretty solid creative copy. But the longer it takes to hear back from them, the more that glass-half-empty side of my mind’s town crier belches out, “Now hear this: they hate it! They hate it!”
Do others ever go through this kind of self-doubt? Do you sometimes think the worst? Or wonder if you’re good enough to be doing this sort of work? Do you find yourself too needy in the “I-need-validation” department? I confess that this yoke finds itself around my professional neck more often that it ought to. But, I can’t help it! Am I totally alone in my self-imposed angst?
My reply?
You’re absolutely NOT alone in that. Believe it or not, I go through the same thing on every project. Thanks to a lot of successes and happy clients over the years, I’m not nearly as crazy about it about it as I was some years back. In fact, in the rare cases in which I DO miss the mark these days, in most cases, it’s a matter of the client changing direction or not being clear, because I will ask the right questions to get the copy right. But yes, until I hear, I’m always a bit concerned.
In fact, as I write this, I’m waiting to hear back from a client about the third ad I’ve written for their company in the past few weeks. The creative director loved the first two, and I’m sure she’ll like the latest, but she also usually responds within a few hours. It’s been closer to 24, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t nag at me a bit…
Perhaps it’s something in the nature of writers (okay, some writers; I’d be curious as to Jon McCulloch’s take – the subject of the 5/12/08 blog post (just scroll down) – a fundamental insecurity about putting our creations our there – especially when money’s on the line. Perhaps it’s just human nature – the propensity to think the worst when an outcome isn’t certain.
So, if that sounds familiar, you’re not alone, and if you’re still on the outside of the business looking in, know that even the seasoned pros chew a fingernail from time to time. And in a perverse way, I see an upside: that mindset will always keep you a bit humble, and humble writers listen carefully to their clients to make sure they DO create work that hits the mark. Which, in turn, will keep those angst-ridden moments to a minimum.
Do you experience those pangs of insecurity if you don’t hear back from a client after turning in copy?
Have you gotten beyond it, and if so, what made the difference for you?
Peter,
I still feel this anxiety (or at least some) if it’s a new client. Even though I take great care to ask all the questions and extract all the necessary info up front, you never know what you’ll get until you do a project or two with someone.
However…when I do feel inadequate and insecure, I think back to an interview I once read of Dustin Hoffman and Gene Hackman. In that interview, both actors sheepishly admitted that they both still feel insecure every time they work with a new director or producer.
How about that? Two of the finest, most admired and wealthiest actors in the world…and they still have anxiety and insecurities.
That makes me feel better. Not because I’m glad they feel insecure sometimes. But because it tells me that it’s a normal thing. Accepting it for what it is seems to take its power over me.
Peter,
Good points and good questions.
First, one caveat: I’m not just a copywriter — I’m a marketing consultant, too. I don’t do the “corporate” stuff and no-one ever comes to me asking if I’ll write them a brochure or “do some copy”. OK, very occasionally I guess they do, but I very quickly either put them right or send them on their way.
See, I don’t think you can be a truly effective copywriter of sales materials if you don’t understand marketing (probably ruffle some feathers here with that, but that’s not my problem). When someone comes to me wanting me to write a “killer sales letter”, as often as not that’s not really their problem. Usually their entire marketing strategy is flawed.
So, because of that, when it really comes down to it, I’m not really too interested in whether my clients “like” the copy or not.
I’m not writing it to please them or make them feel all warm and fuzzy: I’m writing to make them money. End of.
Obviously, if I’ve made factual errors, I’ll correct them; or if I’ve presented them in a way they don’t like then I’d change it, but their aesthetic opinion of ads and sales letters isn’t relevant to the extent they’re not intended to be liked by anyone who’s not a prospect of my client; and they’re not intended to win awards, either.
I repeat: an ad or sales letter exists to make money. That’s it.
Now, if I was writing stuff to massage my clients’ egos or to impress people who are impressed by glossy brochures, I’d probably care what they thought and worry about getting their approval. I’m not, so I don’t.
Ultimately it comes down to this: clients engage me because I’m an expert. They have a problem and they want me to solve it for them. That’s what I do, and I guarantee results.
For this reason I now limit my clients to a maximum of 4 at one time and have them on minimum 12-month rolling contracts. If they start changing copy and forcing their opinions on how it should look, they quickly become ex-clients and they lose any right to a guarantee. Think of it this way: you wouldn’t sit up halfway through your triple bypass surgery and start telling the surgeon how you think he ought to be performing the operation would you (assuming you could :-))?
Frankly, most clients aren’t qualified to have an opinion. Sure, they’re entitled to LIKE it or not, but as a technical piece of marketing work, they’re simply not qualified. If they were, they’d be doing the copy themselves. Similarly, their spouses, kids, colleagues, parents and church ministers aren’t qualified, either.
The ONLY people whose opinions matter… are the intended audience of the work I’m producing. And they vote with their wallets.
This is all a lot easier than I’ve made it sound.
My whole marketing machine — the one for my own business — is aimed at attracting only the clients who’ll see it my way. By the time I get to talk to clients on the phone, they know exactly whom they’re dealing with, how I work, and how it’s going to be.
I don’t get tyre-kickers and “what can you do for me and how much will it cost?” phone calls; I get “when can you start?” phone calls.
I DO have a very small and select number of very special and exclusive clients for whom I do just write copy, however. These guys are very competent marketers already, and are all multi-millionaire entrepreneurs. In these cases their opinions do count, and I not only get paid by them, but I end up learning from them, too.
— Jon
What he said… 😉
Seriously, what I’m hearing (and I think it’s smashing), is that when you know who you are and what you bring to the table, you can stop caring about what clients think of your work and focus instead on whether they want what you can give them. And that certainly makes life infinitely easier. For everyone. Are all of you reading this getting the power of what he’s talking about here?
PB
Peter,
Yes I am. That’s how I feel about the work I’m doing now. The next step is to re-create that experience in my business.
Peter, I spent 20+ years as a daily newspaper writer before going into this side of the writing biz, and I will tell you I felt the same way every day, every time, I turned in a story. I took solace in a quote I once heard attributed to the great Gene Roberts of the Philadelphia Inquirer, who said that the best reporters/writers come to work every day thinking “this is the day they’ll find out, this is the day they’ll realize I’m a phony…”
I think the best writers always feel that way, because they care about what they write, about who they write for, and about how they do their job. That’s what makes them the best. When we stop caring, when we stop worrying, we stop trying — and then we fail.
It was an eye opener when I finally grokked how insignificant my precious copy was to busy marketers.
I worry less and less about hearing back immediately from clients–or being praised. Some of the marketers I work with are so stressed and overwhelmed they barely look at the copy before they send it to print.
I recently delivered extensive content for a website and didn’t hear much more than “thanks” for almost a month. When my client came up for air he had already sent the copy along to the tech department–and he had more work for me. But still no effusive praise.
All right.
Though I wouldn’t put it quite so (cough) confidently, I agree with a lot of Jon’s post. I laughed out loud at his point that “…most clients aren’t qualified to have an opinion.”
I wouldn’t say MOST, but SOME don’t think for five minutes about differentiating their product/service, speaking to a targeted audience, identifying their competition, i.e.: basic strategy.
I try to obviate client misunderstandings by writing an “Assignment Sheet” that details strategic goals, tone, voice, word-count (or range), etc. BEFORE I start working. With the Assignment Sheet I include a price estimate.
I encourage the client to alter the Assignment Sheet as much as he/she likes. Then I alter my pricing accordingly. When we agree, the client signs off and I deliver as delineated.
Of course, it’s nicer to work for savvy, appreciative clients. They get first priority when I have a choice.
But I don’t always have a choice. And it’s nice to pay the bills regularly:)
Thanks Mike, Joe and Lorraine. Great stuff, all of you. Per Lorraine’s comments, it IS amazing how little many clients think about basic marketing strategy vis-a-vis the competition. Constantly amazed at how much work there is to be done out there. And Joe, you’re right – I think we feel that way because we care and because we do our best. I suppose the end result is when we do our best long enough, and get kudos long enough and understand the difference we bring to our clients, we should be radiating the confidence and take-no-BS attitude Jon puts out there. And Mike, I’m right there with you – also recreating that experience in MY business.
PB
I second Lorraine’s post. As often as not, I will work like a dog on someone’s website copy, after having met and thoroughly discussed the nature of the project, the goals, and the need for feedback from the client. They always nod enthusiastically, taken up by the momentum of the project. Then once I complete the project and submit it, I hear. . . nothing. Silence. The large abyss of absence of sound. Does this mean they hate it? Am I worthless? Generally, no. What it usually means is that crazy things like, say, running their business, has taken top priority and non-critical projects like revamping a website have taken back burner. I do try to make a few follow-up emails and calls, and then, if I still haven’t heard anything, I send the remainder of the invoice. But it definitely helps with the nagging writer’s insecurity to adopt the client’s viewpoint for the moment, where our project is many times but a drop in a very large bucket to them.
Lorraine,
Ewe sed: “Of course, it’s nicer to work for savvy, appreciative clients. They get first priority when I have a choice. But I don’t always have a choice. And it’s nice to pay the bills regularly:)”
You ALWAYS have the choice. Bad clients are worse than no clients at all. The day this dawned on me, I got into the office and unceremoniuously fired 2 of my (only) 3 clients and on paper I “couldn’t afford” to. My wife Sarah’s expression was priceless…
Man, I haven’t felt that good since the day I was 7 years old and kicked out the front teeth of the school bully, who never ever bothered me ever again (I got a lucky kick in his “sensitive parts” and he went over… I was horrified and thought, “if I let him get up, he’s going to kill me… so I made sure he didn’t get up).
Anyway, within just a few days of firing those clients, more work flowed in from QUALITY clients to fill the void. Always does.
I was visiting a client yesterday going over the packet o’ stuff I’m creating for him, and he and his assistant told me they’d fired 3 of their clients after taking my advice. The phone rang in the meeting, the lady apologised and took it in the other room… came back and said, “there goes another one”.
The most telling comment she made? “I value myself more now. And the company. And everyone in the office has said the same”. Put a price on THAT feeling if you can.
More important, their attitude and self confidence will radiate from them meaning THEIR clients will be better quality — the low quality ones will shy away. Immediately, they’ll be making more money, too, because they’ll be confident about charging more and the clients they attract won’t worry about paying them.
No amount of money a client could ever pay me, no matter how badly I needed it, is worth the emotional damage working with a bad client causes. Sooner or later you’ll realise how important this is for your own sanity.
— Jon
Hi all,
I think Jon’s comments have been spot on. In reverse order:
1. Firing clients: I’m a great believer in the principle that to allow great things into your life, you have to make room by getting rid of something (say, the merely “good”).
2. Sweating client approval. Solution, get clients that think like you do, and this will never be a problem. PB has always pushed face-to-face meetings with prospects because someone who’s met you is more likely to hire you. Here’s another reason – you can vet them as a possible client. I’ve met with several such over the last couple of days. By doing research beforehand, I pre-qualify them on paper. But during the face-to-face (or phone-to-phone) conversations, sometimes the sparks fly and sometimes not. After one “sparks fly” encounter the prospect hired me on the spot, and several projects later, she’s considered every one to be “completely right the first time.” She thinks I simply “get it” (which is true), but I think it’s also that we “get each other”.
3. Whether the client is right, Jon’s right – usually, we’re the pros. But sadly, clients feel they are entitled to their own opinions. So my answer is “see (2) above.”
Peter,
I really have to say “Thanks
All,
I think nervousness is misplaced — if clients could write, they would. Average reading age in the US and the UK is 10 1/2. Writing age is necessarily going to be similar. Most people can’t put a sentence together without either falling over it or writing gibberish. We ALL have a job for life, as I’ve said before.
But here’s one thing: I often wonder if I’ll get “rumbled” one day… for being handomely rewarded for doing something I love. I’d sit and write just for the hell of it if even if I wasn’t being paid.
Surely it’s got to be illegal, immoral, or fattening, right? Probably all three.
Don’t we just have the BEST job in the whole world?
— Jon
Color me fortunate or naturally optimistic, but experience has calmed any angst over clients’ sounds of silence.
No news can be good news for these reasons:
* Deliverable is fine and client contact is busy moving it into production/distribution.
* Client expected it would meet or exceed expectations, as usual, and neglects to send ‘well done’ note for same reason we don’t say ‘I’m pleased the sun came up this morning.’
* While we focus on one project at a time for each client, perhaps, they juggle multiples. Our ‘atta boy’ notes understandably slip lower on the task list or fall off.
So keep the faith, fellow FLCWs, and recognize that if they want tweaks, you’ll hear . . . and that silence can be golden indeed.
I love Alan’s advice, keep the faith. This week I celebrated 10 years of being a FLCW. That experience has given me (1) the ability to ask the right questions in the process and (2) deliver the right copy in turn.
My ego does get annoyed at times when clients don’t comment at all on my work, simply passing it to the next step or sending a few edits. But that’s the kind of environment they and we work in. Few take the time to stop and praise anymore. If the copy gets results, then that’s the reward.
Thanks for the great discussion!
Casey
Do I EVER experience pangs of insecurity when a client is slow to respond–or slow to pay, or slow to deliver material for a project already agreed on. ESPECIALLY when the wait gets so long I have to take the initiative in reminding them that they’re late. My head is full of little voices whose theme songs are “You were born to be unlucky,” “You never do anything right,” “You HAVE to follow everyone’s advice and seize EVERY opportunity,” and “Everybody hates you.” Right now I’m waiting to clinch the final deal on a project that, God willing, will be my first long-term contract in the specialty I’m attempting to move into (regular newsletters for apartment complexes, events companies, and related businesses)–and the fear that they’ll find me too expensive refuses to shut up completely.
Inferiority complexes seem to run rampant in the creatively oriented fields–perhaps because sensitivity and creativity tend to go together. But there does need to be a healthy midpoint between “I deserve nothing” (groveling) and “I deserve everything” (arrogant and demanding). Not many of us are so important as to invariably and immediately trump every other possible concern a client (who is, after all, a fellow member of the world of insecurities and overloaded schedules) might be dealing with.
I still feel the pangs, especially early in the client-writer relationship. As we move into our groove together, there’s less and less stress each time, because each successful assignment is a confidence builder, and a trust builder between us, and communication tends to be clearer each time.
One thing I try to do during the stress times is to use the same criteria as when submitting fiction — a quick response is usually a rejection; a longer response means it’s going through all the meetings/committees and there are people fighting for your work.
While fiction-writing is a whole different animal, remembering those protocols often eases the stress in the short term.
I am often called upon to write something different, something funny…and with a new client, you can never be sure you are wavelengthed. Who said, “Dying is easy, humor is hard”? Somebody. Anyhow, a certain indefinite time can go by and suddenly my mind thinks, “Uh-oh.” I have trained myself to realize that people in a job don’t work at night, they are home on weekends, they have a different timetable.
I absolutely get pangs of insecurity when I don’t hear back on a project, especially when I’m working with a new client. But the funny thing is, I can’t even think of a time when dissatisfaction with my work has been the reason for their avoidance. It’s always been something in their professional or personal lives that pushes the project back.
I come from the non-profit world, where situations like this are quite common, even with the most well-intensioned, organized pros. The project I’m working on may be a top priority one day, then something else comes along and its pushed back. It’s pretty much the nature of the non-profit world.
But from my experience, insecurities are quite common among writers. I just try to deal with it by doing the best work I can. Each time, before I turn in a project, I ask myself if I’ve done the best work I possibly could. If the answer is “yes,” then knowing that is what matters most.
I’ve been a FLCW now for 10 years (almost 11) and there are still times I second guess myself, wondering whether I have the ‘it’ factor the client was looking for. Sometimes I think I am better when I am presented a topic I know absolutely nothing about and have to create winning copy. Because I am learning it from scratch, I am writing from the perspective of a neophyte, so it feels fresh, new and I probably explain the topic well because I had to learn all about it first.
But I always give my client my best, and only once have I had a client who told me they absolutely hated the work I did for them. Which over a period of 10 years is pretty darn good, I think!
I echo a previous comment though – I reckon if we didn’t care about our work we wouldn’t sometimes be so angst-ridden. It’s only when you care about something that you worry about it.
hi Peter,
After I send in the web content, I generally move on to something else. It’s like playing badminton. Once you’ve hit the shuttlecock in the other player’s court, you have to wait for it to ome back. one can’t run n the other person’s court to hit it.