Freelance rules

If you’re fast, I’m fast.

If you’re slow, I’m slow.

If you’re nice, I do extra work for free.

If you’re a pain, I’m expensive.

Your project is the most important thing I’m working on right now. Until I start working on something else, that is.

If you’re trying to save the world, I’m delighted to work with you. But not gratis.

My clients are all genders, races, ages, nationalities, professions, and political persuasions. Diversity makes life interesting. The only people I won’t work with are people who have a problem with that. And liars, of course.

If you got referred by a friend, I’ll treat you as a friend. If you subsequently behave like an ass, I’ll tell the friend who introduced us.

If I refer someone to you, treat them well. If you don’t, I’ll hear about it, and the referrals will stop.

If you’re fake, I’ll get real. You might find that uncomfortable.

If you need an ear to listen, I’m there for you. Up to a point, of course.

I don’t care if we haven’t spoken in years. Just don’t fake it as if we’re tight.

Take a second to check what I’m up to. Google and LinkedIn are free, you know.

If you’re all about profit, I might not have time for you — and you’ll pay top dollar.

If you’re smart, you’ll learn from me.

If you’re unwilling to learn, I won’t waste time teaching you.

If you’re passionate and kind, my resources will seem endless.

I appreciate your thanks, really I do, but you still need to pay me.

If your accounts payable process is slow and arcane, you’ll end up paying for that.

If you’re impatient, I will be, too.

You wrote a book. Congratulations. But if you want me to promote it, I’ll have to read it, first. A lot of people have written books.

I’ve been doing this a long time. If I want your advice, I’ll ask for it.

If you’re wordy, I have a sharp scalpel. You might be amazed at how smart you sound once we cut out all those extraneous words.

If your writing has a problem, I’ll tell you the truth about it. I’ll be honest, but not mean.

If you insist on writing full of passive voice, jargon, and weasel words, there’s only so much I can do. And I won’t be happy.

I recognize how strange it is that you’re paying me to tell you what’s wrong with what you made. We can make it work, we are professionals, after all. Right?

If you want my advice, you’ll have to stop talking for a moment and listen.

I like to take a moment to laugh. I hope you do, too, or our time together will be very grim.