If there's one aspect of freelance work that drives me insane more than any other, it's the tendency of some clients to mistake the work we do for magic. They expect their money to conjure an almighty genie from the lamp of idea, a marketing daimon ready to do their bidding. But the work is never like that.
For one thing, it takes time. Real writers don't sit in leatherbound offices, puffing pipes in tweed jackets, waiting for inspiration to strike before the thing gets pounded out in ten minutes. Real writers spend hours beating the work into submission. We review meeting tapes and notes over and over, we spend serious time testing the balances of each sentence and transition. It's an involved process and hard work, and it takes time.
As the client, you are an important part of the process. You're the expert; I'm the guy communicating what you do to nonexperts. When your writer asks for background material, that's what he needs - brochures, website material, documentation, articles, whatever you have. That material and your participation are necessary to complete the project on time and on budget.
I know what you're thinking: wouldn't it be easier just to find a writer who already knows your business inside and out, so you don't have to provide background?
Probably not. No matter how lucrative your industry is, few working writers can afford to isolate their expertise into just one or two key fields. We're generalists, a key part of our job being the quick assimilation of information. Among other fields, I've written copy for the energy, financial management, absorbent materials, corporate HR outsourcing, specialty vodka and homebuilding insurance industries - with no experience in those industries prior to the first project. How'd I do it? With client interviews and background materials - just like every other working professional writer out there.
Don't expect to be blown away by the first draft. It almost never works that way, because the first draft - the rough - starts discussions and kicks up ideas that never presented themselves when the project started. I intentionally refrain from spending much polishing time on the first draft, because I know it'll be rewritten: there's no point in wasting your time or mine tweaking language until we have the concept work done.
There's also an old joke in this business, that nothing is done until everyone has pissed on it. Especially for corporate clients, nearly every first draft kickstarts art-by-committee, in which a half dozen interested parties all have to make their mark on the draft before it's approved for second drafting. That's where the real magic comes in, as the writer manages to consolidate multiple (sometimes conflicting) opinions into a single work. Look for the sparkle starting in draft two.
It's not all going to make it into the final draft. Most decent-sized brochures have, at most, about 1000 words of copy. That's about two-thirds of a feature length magazine article. A single website page typically has between 100 and 350 words of copy. We simply don't have the room to list every detail, talk up every benefit, outline every case study highlight.. all while engaging the reader in a casual and enjoyable reading experience. In any writing project, there's a natural word count limit to how deep and wide we can go with our message. After a certain point, anything new that goes in means something has to come out.
And lengthening the word count usually isn't an option. The human brain generally will only read so many words at a single stretch without a break (usually about 300 words). Also, most media have natural copy boundaries - that 1000-word brochure could possibly go to 1200 if you remove all the graphics. Do you really want to do that?
I live and die by word count, and I can do a lot with 150 words. But I'm not a miracle worker - you simply can't cram 1000 words of facts into 150 words of copy. It can't be done. Don't expect it to be done.
Finally, your writer is a working stiff. Artistes don't last long in this business; the job is hard enough as it is without bringing ego into it. When I'm working, I'm not "wordsmithing". I'm not pondering my muse. I'm not doing this to make a few bucks while waiting for my screenplay or novel to land, sitting writing bad poetry in a coffeehouse somewhere. I'm a guy doing work - think of me as a plumber, only using the English language instead of pipe.
Plumbers don't get offended when you point out that a pipe is leaking, and neither do I get offended when I don't hit the mark perfectly. It happens (since I can't read minds), and addressing it is part of the job. If you have something on your mind, by all means, say so - we're working together here to get a job done, preferably on time and on budget.
It's not magic, guys. If you want the best value for your copywriting buck, take my advice and don't expect magic. Instead, expect flexibility, skill, attention to detail and good ol' hard work.
In the real world, heavy lifting beats magic wand-waving any day of the week.
http://www.rswarren.com/blog/article.php?story=20061001214537916
http://www.rswarren.com/blog/article.php?story=20061001214537916