Copyeditors and copywriters are human. We don’t always nail that white paper or website copy. We sometimes miss commas or garble sentences. We might not capture your voice perfectly. We aren’t machines.
And that’s why if you’re in the biz, as I am, having a realistic contract is non-negotiable.
What do I mean by “realistic”? Well, the contract that I give to my clients says that I will make every reasonable attempt to give them an error-free product. It also stipulates that they have up to 4 weeks after I deliver what I, the contractor, deem to be the final draft to request revisions. Why me? Because every once in a while, you’ll have a client flake, and the finality of your project could be in limbo until they resurface. I’ve only had that happen once to me, and maybe someday I’ll get around to writing a name-and-shame post, but I prefer to leave those karmic ties severed.
I digress.
That kind of language can clarify that writers and editors are only human. And as a client of mine recently said to me, “I understand that there are different styles” of writing. A client may have liked what they saw in your portfolio, but the product you turn around to them ends up being, well, not what they’d hoped for. In that case, you better also have language in your contract that says that you, as the contractor, will determine whether to offer a refund or to rewrite/reedit/repreform the services. That needs to be your decision. Why? Because otherwise you could be at the mercy of an unreasonable, not to mention angry, client. And because you might have cleared out your whole calendar for that one big project; if the client wants a refund, then you’re without rent money for however many weeks that you were working on it. That means no money coming in for weeks past and weeks future. Look, you got hired for a reason, and your client needs to respect your labor. That’s why you need that kind of language in your contract.
I’ve had three attorneys in two states—one from an award-winning national firm—refine my engagement letter language. If you want their names, send me an email.
Why have I dusted off the blog to tell you this? Well.
For the first time ever, I’ve had a client say “This doesn’t work” about a LinkedIn profile that I wrote. He graciously said he’d pay me for the work anyway. But like I said to him, that’s just not my style. I’ve got it relatively good in that I don’t have to worry about making ends meet. But if I were just getting started, I might really need the chance to redo the profile and earn my money. In this case, the client had already rewritten what he wanted for a profile and sent it to me, so I just copyedited it and sent it back to him with a note saying that I wouldn’t be charging him for work that he’s dissatisfied with. We mutually agreed to terminate the engagement, in other words.
Right now, I’m also editing a dissertation off the clock and an academic article for an early-career academic, also off the clock. Again, I’m lucky in that I don’t need the money. My objective is to be helpful. As long as I’m making enough money editing and writing other projects, I don’t need to make a lot from people who genuinely need help (young academics, especially). Nor do I want to insist on being paid for work that doesn’t work. Nothing about that would please Saint Philip Neri, I think. Each case is different, but in some cases, it’s better just to cut my losses, learn my lessons, develop some new trainings to improve my skills, and live to edit another day.