I’m not talking about my recovery, but yours. Mistakes, errors in judgment, bad decisions just happen. Sometimes it’s because we’re inundated with too much work, sometimes it’s because we open our mouths and insert our foots, sometimes we take on something we’re not sure we can handle. It happens to everyone. How we recover, well, that’s the real trick, isn’t it?
Last year at this time I was sitting amid six projects, five of which had two-week deadlines. At the same time. My days and nights were blurred, but I got the work done. I was concerned about the quality. Turns out I should’ve been – one client responded to my “Did it look okay? Does anything need to be revisited?” note with the dreaded “There were errors” reply. Worse, the client’s client had caught it, hadn’t liked the research I’d dug up, and was calling my client out for it. Ouch. I was sick about it. In this case, there was no opportunity to fix – the client had already sent it on and they’d dealt with it directly. It’s one of those embarrassments I’ll never recover from because had I not been juggling so much at once, I’d have caught the errors. And the client hasn’t called back.
I don’t care how far along you are in your career. When you screw up, it sets you back eons in terms of confidence. If it’s not your fault – demanding clients, changing project parameters, unruly mobs of people all editing at once – you can shake it off. If it’s you, you can’t. But the doubt that creeps in needs to be replaced with a process for fixing your errors. If you know how to deliver satisfaction, you could well please your client in the end and give them what they want while salvaging a piece of your reputation.
Here’s what I do after handing the project over:
Ask. You can’t fix what you don’t know about, right? You have to ask. Repeatedly, if necessary. I ask until I receive some response, but only up to three times. After that, I have to assume things are fine. Ask if it was what the client intended, and ask if there’s anything more needed, such as revisions or additional information.
Offer. Their deadline was yesterday, but they told you today it’s not right. Offer to fix it immediately. This is your reputation on the line – making sure that client is happy is your primary focus (or it should be). Drop what you’re doing and get the job done right.
Ask again. Don’t think because that second chance came that they’re now thrilled with your work. Ask again within a day of the revisions if it’s looking okay. If not, have a more detailed conversation with your client. State what you believe to be the project’s direction as you interpreted it. Is it in line with what they want? And look at what’s expected and the amount of space you have to meet that expectation. I had a project once in which the client expected a full-scale overview of the state of workers compensation – in 800 words. If it had been 8,000 words, I’d not have had the troubles I had. Needless to say that project goal wasn’t met.
Be courteous. It could be that you’re just not their writer. It could be that the mistakes you made were enough for them to back away permanently. Suck it up, apologize again (professionally – no groveling), and offer to help them find a more suitable writer. Grace under such situations is never misplaced, and that client will remember your gesture. Sure, they’ll remember your mistake, but it leaves a better impression.
When was the last time you made a mistake? How did you recover?
All great points. We have to remember that the relationship with the client is fluid, in motion, and we're partners, not antagonists.
I think my last error was when I interviewed an "expert" and wrote it as narrative. HE said a few things that were totally incorrect, and one sharp eyed reader wrote in to the magazine to tell them.
My recovery came from the editor who fortunately knew my work and knew me well. I still got work from him.
My recovery came from me, by writing to the lady that had written in to complain – she wrote to the publication concerned AND she wrote to me care of a different title she also read that I wrote for.
My recovery continued when I vowed to always, always put someone else's words in their own mouths – i.e. write it in Q&A form. That way, all errors definitely belonged to them. I am, after all, reporting what they say.
And, of course, I rarely write about something I have so little or no knowledge about any more, so I usually at least get a dinky little alarm bell go off.
My first error was one I had no right recovering from, let alone getting the commission.
I wrote to the editor of one magazine, addressing it to the editor of a competitor magazine … They sent it back to me, saying I'd got the wrong publication and address. I left it a while, and sent the same query to the right editor …
In my letter to the right editor, I told him, quite confidently, that I was off to Cornwall to see Red Kites at Tregaron. He wrote back saying he thought Tregaron was in Wales, but he was willing to accept the article from either destination. Tregaron *is* in Wales … BLUSH.
I still got the commission. I should never have got that commission. I had no right getting that commission, nor the byline, nor the rather hefty cheque.
But it was a bloomin' good article. :o)
Oh, Lori, I can't tell you how refreshing it is to hear about all the ups and blush-inducing downs of your career.
I'm sick of seeing writers in my Twitter stream banging on (in an admittedly rather brittle way) about how busy/successful/efficient they've been that morning.
If you're so effing busy, how come you've got time to rub my face in it on Twitter? Aargh!!
Keep writing, Lori – as I've said to you before, you're one of the few bloggers I look forward to seeing in my RSS feed.
Hi Lori.
I've made a few ones, and it seems when I make them, I make boneheaded ones. I sent out two queries one day, and on both, I left off the first word of my email. So it started, "a writer…." instead of "I'm a writer…"
Luckily, I caught it right away and emailed both, blaming it on my glasses (that was the honest-a-goodness truth; when I put my glasses on, I saw the mistake immediately!).
One editor still hired me. The other was totally nice and said she's made some mistakes herself, so she didn't hold it against me. Still no work, but I appreciated her kindness.
On a related note, what do you do when you know/are pretty sure you haven't made a mistake but the client goes silent?
I had a great client who loved me until mid-last year. After I wrote my last articles for him, he sent me an email attaching pdfs of the articles, saying he'd probably have something again for me shortly.
Crickets.
I've politely checked in, and he doesn't even respond to those emails.
So I finally got on the phone and politely said, "Hey, what's going on. Haven't heard from you. Did I make a mistake or make someone mad?"
He fumbled all over, saying no, no, no, changes at the company, with the client, and he might have something for me again soon.
Still crickets.
I still check in once in a while, but no response.
I'm flummoxed. Did I do something wrong and he doesn't want to confront me? Did they lose funding? If so, why not just tell me?
Is there something you'd recommend I do?
Thanks everybody!
I second that, Clare. I appreciate Lori's candor – especially on this topic.
My last error was back in October. A fellow writer on Twitter contacted me about taking on a client because her plate was too full and I agreed to work with the the client on his project. The very next day my daughter became severely ill and was hospitalized for a week. I struggled to complete the first half of that project, and a couple of others that were on deadline, while spending my days at the hospital and nights with my other children (my husband took the night shift with my daughter after work).
Needless to say my work didn't reflect my best ability and I felt crushed. I should have just turned down the project. My confidence took a real hit. I remind myself there's nothing I can do about it now but learn from what happened so I never make that type of mistake again.
This post is very encouraging.
My last error? Um…way too recently.
On Friday one of my longtime editors called to fact check a couple things I'd recently turned in, including a really long timeline about a long-running, complex, confusing, and extremely popular TV series. The facts were fine, but she asked, "Who tracked him down and dragged him back? There's a misplaced modifier."
I was mortified, but my editor was very understanding. After all, the timeline spanned five action-packed seasons and I'd turned in six single-spaced pages of events for them to choose from. Each event had to be three sentences or less, so I did a lot of pruning and re-writing. I'm lucky there was only one misplaced modifier!
Gabriella makes a good point. Admitting to an error the moment you find it is always the best move. Sure, a few people will forever brand you as the one who messed up, but most people understand that even writers are human. And those are the people you want to work with.
Devon: "the relationship with the client is fluid, in motion, and we're partners, not antagonists." I'm framing this. So many writers take an us-versus-them stance when approaching client issues. It doesn't have to be that way. You're there to bring their projects to life. If you've not managed it first time out, don't get defensive – get busy. Fix it.
Diane, it sounds like a lesson learned. He opened his mouth once too often and you paraphrased instead of quoting – your error is easier to fix than his faux pas. Too bad he couldn't take the heat for what he'd said in error!
And frankly your first gaffe was so minor – I'd not care where you were going to see a red kite, but moreover that you know the breed! And Cornwall's close enough to Wales…sort of… 😉
Clare, thank you for the belly laugh! I've often wondered how these fabulously busy writers make time to tweet the dickens out of us. And thank you for the kind words. I know no other way of relating to people. 🙂
Gabriella, it sounds like that client lost his budget. Honestly, mid-year is when things dried up for me, too. My clients bothered to tell me their budgets were gone – this guy may not be comfy doing so. My recommendation? Check in with him every two months. Just send a cordial note asking how things are, hoping his business is going well, and asking if there are projects you can help him with. Keep the lines open, but don't sweat it. If there was something wrong, he should have said so, and his indication that all is well should be the one you stick with. If he's not happy, it's up to him to tell you so, not the other way around.
Kim, I think any client would understand that when the kids are in the hospital, deadlines are secondary. Though I did have one client who was irate because I couldn't focus on the work at hand when my FIL was dying. They fired me, and frankly, who wants to work for people that unfeeling?