Proof Pros: how to part ways with a client respectfully and well

Pistols at dawn? Not necessarily. When we decide to part ways with a client, it doesn’t always have to be acrimonious. With tact, an appropriate level of honesty, and careful balancing of our needs with theirs, it’s usually possible to avoid dramatic showdowns.

The decision to part ways with a client can be a hard one to make. As I explored in a recent post on how to tell when it’s time to fire a client, all the good reasons in the world won’t necessarily be enough to dispel the sadness of leaving carefully nurtured relationships and projects behind.

In that post, I covered some of the main reasons you might want to fire a client, including issues with fees, a desire to work on different topics, unreasonable expectations, ethical concerns and downright bad treatment. Some of these might lead to a tense or tricky situation, but in most cases you have some level of choice about how you handle yourself. Exercising that choice can make all the difference if you want to look back without regret. Below I’m joined by four other experienced editors in musings on what we have done (or would do) when a client was no longer the right fit for our businesses.

Carla DeSantis: ‘With honesty and respect for the journal’s timing’

I recently had to part ways with one of my favourite long-time clients, for whom I had worked for five years on a scholarly journal. I guess you could say that I had ‘outgrown’ their rates, even though I had successfully advocated for several pay increases over the years. I was told at my last increase that the rate had reached their limit, and I was now their highest-paid copyeditor, due to the specialized skill of me editing for them in both English and another language. Yet, they still remained my lowest-paying client.

Why had I stayed so long with lower pay? Sometimes other factors come into play. I knew that working on the journal provided regular work in my schedule that I could count on. It was a high-quality peer-reviewed journal, so I enjoyed reading the content. Working with one of my non-English specialty languages gave me good experience and kept those skills up. And I enjoyed working with the journal editors in a positive working environment.

But when another similar journal offered me a much higher hourly rate, it was no longer logical to stay with the lower-paying client. It was a difficult decision for me to make because, to be honest, I felt loyal to my good client! But in the end, I had to move on for myself and my business, and I couldn’t fit both journals in my schedule.

How did I part ways? With honesty and respect for the journal’s timing. I sent the managing editor an email several months before the next issue to let her know that it would be my last, and they would therefore have more than six months to find a replacement for me. I told her, honestly, that I had kept with the pay rate as long as I could, but that I had another offer with higher pay, and so it was time for me to move on. I provided them with suggestions of replacement copyeditors who I thought had the pertinent skills, and I offered to help their new copyeditor with the transition. In the end, my client was very grateful for my loyalty over the years, for giving them so much advance notice, and for my offer of help in finding my replacement.

Ayesha Chari: ‘I said I enjoyed working together and if they changed their processes, I’d be happy to hear from them’

Relationships are the backbone of my life, professional and personal in equal measure. In my editing business, I build relationships with a whole lot of trust and transparent communication. I’m intrinsically, socially and culturally wired to make every effort to make them work. (Fact: I also have excellent clients.) Figuring out when a relationship is no longer functioning healthily takes time, empathy and a great deal of (self-)awareness. I seem to have none of those in the right proportions and have (thankfully) never had to ‘fire’ a client in real life!

OK, that’s not entirely true because I have amicably parted ways with one long-term client. Why? Because our objectives changed and our paths diverged, naturally and with intent but not necessarily without conflict.

So, how did I go about it? The long way!

My decade-long much-loved client asked me to ‘copyedit’ books at proofreading stage, already typeset on PDF. A new slicker business model to help publish more titles in the year. I mulled. Brooded. I tried to realign my expectations and talk myself out of it. I gave in and did two book-sized PDF copyedits. Shoddy work that, for the first time ever, didn’t make me proud.

Then I did what I do best: I wrote an email (not) without fear. I stated the problem, offered a solution and gently asked for a raise. That led to being offered more of the same work (and in the client’s view, more money)! I got off the fence. I wrote more clearly, repeated the problem and explained why I couldn’t do this work. I offered to find them other editors for this service. I said I enjoyed working together (truth), and that if they changed their processes, I’d be happy to hear from them. It’s been two years. A much harder parting but a door left open. Just in case.

It freed me to find more joyful work, space that I’d recommend all editors learn to make.

In short, practise letting go with empathy for the client and for yourself. Breathe in, breathe out. Sleep on it. Get other perspectives. Communicate clearly.

Amanda George: ‘Offer your client essential information, and champion the cause of editorial professionals everywhere’

I don’t remember having to deal with this situation, so my answer will be hypothetical. The options available also depend on how the freelancer–client relationship works: retainer, contract, or ad hoc. Since I work with my clients on an ad hoc basis, I would be choosing between an avoidant route and a more honest one.

The way I work with my clients means I have a degree of freedom – a freedom that can be experienced as a lack of stability. If the relationship no longer feels right, when the next job arrives, I can say I am fully booked, indisposed, or unwell. Or the cat is having a crisis (trust me, it happens when you adopt feral cats). This freedom, of course, works both ways: my clients hire me when they want to; and if they don’t want to, they keep quiet. And I don’t chase them, because they know where I am; we are connected – by an invisible bond – but not chained to each other. For the record, I am not advocating avoidance (in this or any other situation), but it is definitely an option for those who dislike confrontation, or even just uncomfortable situations.

The more honest route to client disengagement takes courage (or plain speaking), but it promises personal and business growth, for both freelancer and client. For example, if you are able to clearly articulate that the client doesn’t respect agreed timelines, doesn’t pay on time, or sends material that is written entirely ‘in robot’, you will create excellent professional and personal boundaries, open the door to better fits, offer your client essential information, and champion the cause of editorial professionals everywhere. They will either take note of what you have said or the relationship will end.

With age and experience, I have become much better able to articulate things that matter, so I would like to think I’d take the second option. But either way, this scenario underlines the importance of creating really healthy and joyful client bonds, where you find yourself wanting to work with them all the time rather than running away.

Debbie Emmitt: ‘Bake preventative measures into your business to reduce the likelihood of having to finish with a client’

I’ve rarely had to part ways with a client, but for my sanity and self-worth, I’ve occasionally had to knock a professional relationship on the head. Before throwing the baby out with the bathwater, consider the nub of the issue. Shifting project scope? Low rates? Client contacting you at all hours? Nature of the work? Non-payment? If the issue can be rectified, thereby solving the relationship issues, tactfully raise your concerns. If the client doesn’t take them on board, they don’t respect you and it’s time to say goodbye. Or, there may be too many issues to broach.

Once you decide to part ways, the approach depends on (a) whether it’s a one-off project or ongoing work and (b) how much of a showstopper the issue is.

For a one-off project with problems but no showstoppers, I would complete the project at hand (unless the issue is outstanding payment, in which case, halt work until payment is made). Any future enquiries from this client can be batted away (you could be tactfully honest about the issues or explain you’re not currently taking on work).

For an ongoing relationship, there are a couple of approaches:

• If you’re comfortable doing so, explain why you’re not willing to continue the work and agree on an end date.
• If honesty is not an option (e.g. for safety reasons), give a plausible reason for ending the relationship – maybe you’re pivoting your business to focus on a different type of content.

You can bake preventative measures into your business to reduce the likelihood of having to finish with a client:

• Find out as much as possible about the scope of the work before preparing a quote. Be clear about additional costs if work changes.
• Set boundaries on working times and contact (frequency, platforms). Include these in your contract/terms of service and email signature.
• For regular clients, state in advance your hourly rate will increase annually by x%. Include this in your contract/terms of service.
• Be discerning when taking on work. If your gut’s telling you not to take on the job, don’t!

Hazel Bird: ‘I spent several unpaid hours putting together detailed handover notes’

Over a career of nearly 20 years, I’ve parted ways with a client a few times. It’s rarely been a dramatic or difficult experience, largely because the decision was usually a natural evolution for my business: either I moved on in terms of the topics I wanted to edit or my experience moved above the level the client’s budget could cover.

In one case, the matter was exceptionally simple as I was just an occasional freelancer – one of many – on a packager’s list. At first, to give myself a bit of a buffer, I simply stopped responding to the packager’s notifications of new projects. Then, once I was 100% sure of my decision, I asked to be removed from their notifications altogether. Short, friendly exchange of emails with no loose ends on either side – job done.

In another case, the scenario was completely different as the client depended on me, and me alone, to deliver an ongoing project. To discharge my responsibilities, I needed to take a much more carefully planned approach. First of all, I didn’t make the decision lightly: it took a couple of years of reflection before I decided that, sadly, the relationship no longer suited my business. Then, when I’d taken the mental leap, I contacted the client with plenty of notice to allow them to find someone else and suggested a replacement whom I’d vetted. Then I spent several hours putting together detailed handover notes, and I let the client know I’d be available if they had any questions during the transition.

The hours I spent on the handover notes for the second client were unpaid, but they were essential for my sense of fair dealings. When a key person leaves a project, there will always be some drift as their replacement gets up to speed, but good handover notes can help to avoid the most damaging misunderstandings. We editors often care deeply about the projects we work on, and we can do a lot for our own peace of mind by thinking carefully about what our successor needs to know – a clear win–win.

The Proof Pros are all independent contributors. Each person’s words are their own and are not necessarily endorsed by the other contributors.