My writing monkey spiel
(I pulled this page from my old site, and the graphic I used was a monkey at a typewriter. I liked the verbiage, so I kept it, minus the picture. So if it helps, while you read this text imagine a monkey at a typewriter.)
What it takes to make the monkey write:
- I charge $14-$20 per written page.
- If I’m involved in any aspect of the creative development or marketing of your idea, I charge an additional $1-$3 per written page.
- I charge a fee of $100 per draft edit, max $300.
What it takes to make the monkey write advertising copy:
- I charge $125-$175 per hour, max three hours per day.
- If I’m involved in any aspect of the creative development or marketing of your idea, I charge an additional $50-$100 per hour, max three hours per day.
What it takes to make the monkey come to an in-office meeting wearing pants:
- After our BIG conversation, if I’m required to come to any office and meet with people to talk strategy, I charge $100 per hour, max three hours per day.
In-office meetings need to have an agenda with a definable issue, and the meeting needs to end on time with clear steps of action to a solution.
Here’s a trick to make me show up at your office for free, well almost. I love brainstorming sessions where there’s one problem and a solution is needed, pronto. I’d show up just for a free lunch.
I love leading brainstorming sessions, too. When a company is too centralized in its structure, sometimes, a third-party ringleader is needed to equalize the horizontal flow of ideas. But I do charge for the leading gig. Price depends on the company, the problem, and what other plates I’m spinning at the time.
What it takes to make the monkey write faster:
If the words rush or quick turnaround are used in our small picture conversation, I charge an additional $250-$500 depending on your timetable. The charge is completely up to my discretion, and I usually don’t include the fee on truly small jobs.
What it takes to make the monkey wear a Santa hat, Peter Cottontail’s ears, or a white Stetson:
For seasonal writing gigs, my cutoff date is three months before the holiday, two months on edits. I price seasonal catalogs on size and on the ease of finding product specifics.
If it’s a seasonal job I didn’t write and someone screwed it up and you over, I will put on my white hat and come to your rescue, only if we’ve worked together before and I have my seasonal shopping done.
Cost on seasonal writing is usually much higher, so is the cost for a rescue. I will email all pricing to you before our BIG meeting. It’s your call if we meet.
My cost spiel
Time is why I have a sliding price range. The more comfortable I am with a project the less time it takes for me to write the project.
You will know cost before project begins. However at the end, there’s always a small adjustment in either one or all of the charges. Sometimes the adjustment is in your favor, but mostly, it’s in my favor.
I do not do trades for service. If I did, I’d have a really cool coded website that showed my early print work, some client presentations I’ve worked on, and some radio & television spots I’ve done. You’d be really impressed, and I’d be really broke.
Oddly enough, I do take tips.
Travel cost is a whole other issue that I judge on how interesting your story is to me. You will know travel cost before our face-to-face meeting.
Also please be aware, I only write. I don’t do design, graphics, or set up printing. I just give you the words. I know people that do these things, and I can connect you. But I don’t do them. I just do the words.
My legal spiel
After having our small picture conversation and agreeing we like each other, you get an email containing the following PDF forms (if you still don’t know what a PDF is, Google it):
1. Work Made for Hire Agreement – It’s a standard writer/client contract anyone can find online. Well, except me. I don’t remember who gave it to me. If you can identify where the contract came from, I’ll give them credit. Promise.
2. Exhibit A – In one paragraph, it has everything I will be doing for you and when it’s due.
3. Consideration – What you owe me and when you owe me. Plus, it’s the spot where rights are assigned, and you legally get everything.
4. Form W-9 – I’d love to promise you I could do your job for $599.99 and sidestep the taxman. But I can’t. So I send this little baby to you signed, and I look for my 1099 Form from you in late January. I’ve owed the IRS before, and I don’t want to again. I keep it legit.
5. Anti-Lawyer Agreement – Sorry, but when you use lawyers to quash a disagreement between two mature adults, a unicorn dies. If we don’t agree on this, we don’t work together. I don’t have the time to give up to prepare for a hearing and neither do you.
And here is where I end my pitch.
You now have everything you need to decide if I’m your guy or not. Unless, you want to know why I do this. If so, click on the About tab.
Side Note: Old friends, acquaintances, and creative cohorts that have read this far, kudos. But really, look me up on Facebook. I don’t come by your office and futz up the place.
But you, the confused cat with the idea, if you’re looking for a writer, please click on the About tab and read more about me. But really, it’s very boring stuff. I know. I lived it. So be ballsy, jump over the About tab, click the Contact tab, and shoot me an email. Let’s set your idea free on the world. I’m just sitting here waiting for you.