Lessons Learned From Getting Stiffed On Writing Jobs

My writing business has changed a lot since I started freelancing. Then, I did lots of one-off jobs for a wide range of small clients, getting many of them through copywriting agencies and the occasional job board posting or ad. Now, I work for a few bigger clients, and many of those have come to me via word of mouth and referrals from other people who have been happy with my work.

One of the advantages of having this type of client is that it makes for a more stable and reliable income. I know that each month, unless something major happens, there’s a basic amount that will be coming in — and I can always increase my earnings by taking more work for a couple of clients who offer regular single item jobs (like resumes).

Of course, that only works when the clients pay up on time. Most of them do, but then there are the others. I’ve been lucky enough not to get stiffed too many times in the last five years. That’s because I ask for a 50% deposit on all work for new clients and keep that up till we have established a relationship of trust. But it’s after that point that things can go wrong, especially if your client runs into financial difficulty.

Case Study One

One of the sites I blogged for a few years ago (I won’t say which one, as it’s now under new management and it wouldn’t be fair to the new owner) started off as a good gig, where the owner always paid in arrears, but on time, promptly on the first of every month. So when he was a couple of days late one month, I didn’t panic. I figured he was on vacation and would pay when he got back. After a while, though, so much time had passed that I realised that there had to be another reason. After several weeks he finally responded to my email, saying that he’d had a health problem (read ‘an addiction problem’) and had no money but would pay up when he got on his feet. I’m still waiting. One of the problems I had in this case was that I didn’t have all his contact details. That was a $500 lesson. It’s something that’s now at the top of my client questionnaire.

Case Study Two

In the second case, I was writing for a publication that operated like a print magazine. In other words, you invoiced and got paid once you had delivered the articles. That’s the way it works, and they weren’t going to give a deposit to suit me, though they did make a one-off good faith payment at the start.

I feel a bit sorry for this client, actually, because the recession hit and the client’s advertising income (which basically funded the publication) dried up. Big companies moved from 30 to 90 day payment and the client’s ready cash disappeared. The only trouble was, the client still owed me money and tried to persuade me that I should hang in there a bit longer. I did the maths — had I waited another month, the client would have owed me double the amount, with even less prospect of paying me. So I got out, and the client has paid the debt in increments, though some is still owing. The lesson I’ve learned is to only work on that basis for a bigger, well established publication and to make sure it’s not a big part of my income.

My writing career is a constant learning experience and there’s nothing to make you learn like not getting paid. I have to be honest — the missing money isn’t hurting me financially, it’s just the principle of the thing. I did the work, I should get paid. The big lesson is that even when you do everything right in managing your career, random events can affect the bottom line.

The Lessons

1. Make sure you have full contact details for every client.

2. If you have clients who pay in arrears, make sure they don’t represent too big a chunk of your income — and be rigorous about collecting payment on time.

3. Know when it’s time to end the relationship and get out; don’t be sweet talked or pressured into continuing to deliver work you’re not getting paid for.

4. Remember to consider the effects of random happenings and chance events on your writing income.