How to Charge More Money for Your Time: A Guide for Introverts & Nice People

IS THERE PEE RUNNING DOWN YOUR LEG?

There is, isn’t there!

Well, first thing’s first, let’s get you a towel.

Second, let’s get you a smoke.

Just kidding, don’t smoke.

Is this excellent business advice so far, or what???

So, here’s the schtickity lick: I’ve been working for myself for the past 3,000 years, which in normal human “I actually took a shower today, you scab” years, is fifteen (15). Do you like how I put that in parentheses? Just wait until you see what else I can do.

In fifteen years, you can make a lot of mistakes.

You can miss deadlines.

You can work with boneheads.

You can suck.

You can get behind.

You can gain weight.

You can eat cheese.

You can wear embarrassingly big undies.

AND—you can charge such little money, that you will eventually start buying drugstore lipstick and frozen DiGiorno pizza pies, and we all know it’s a slippery slope from there. (Next comes the jumbo-sized bottle of Tums.)

This affliction—something I lovingly refer to as “Shoulda Added a Fuckin’ Zero to That Invoice”—is especially common amongst newbies to the freelance scene, but also people who are chronically insecure about this whole business of “placing a numerical value on me, myself, and my ideas, thus triggering an existential crisis the size of a hurricane” thing.

IT IS UNCOMFORTABLE.

IT IS THE WEDGIE OF THE BUSINESS WORLD.

And, it all goes back to one little problem: price is subjective.

There are no rules about what something should cost, only decisions.

Most people really want there to be a rule. Wouldn’t it be nice if there were rules?!?! Photographers make this much, and writers make this much, and interior designers make this much, and the people who jerk off Bert & Ernie on TV make this much. How relieved would you be? Because you know what that would be called?

A salary.

We are used to jobs paying a set amount, based on our experience, and based on the job description: Senior Analyst I, II, III, IV??? Senior Cupcake Designer I, II, III, IV??? Senior Bullshit Artist I, II, III, IV???

But, when you work for yourself, there’s no set pay rate. No salary range. No guidelines, no instructions, no one telling you what you’re going to earn.

You have to decide.

And, that’s what I’m going to teach you today: what you charge is a decision.

Here’s how you make a good one.

In my past life, I worked in advertising sales, when getting clients to spend a hoo-hah of money was my actual job. I won very weird awards for this job. Honestly I would have preferred an award for my excellent hairdo at the time—the famous asymmetrical razor bob, which made my jawline look like ice (or maybe that was the elixir known as ‘youth’ and ‘cheekbones’). But, you take what you can get, and what I got were these weird awards for having the most contracts signed on first meeting out of all of our staff across the nation. This was rare in my industry, where you’re selling big ticket items with big ticket price tags and lots of big ticket important people who all have big ticket egos, all competing ideas for how to spend the budget.

Then, you compound that with the OTHER problem—a problem that you definitely have, too: nobody knows what things cost.

That’s because of one teeny tiny fact: most people are not in your industry, and that means that (a) they probably eat less mediocre tuna fish sandwiches at lunchtime and (b) they can be classified as an “uneducated consumer.”

An uneducated consumer is someone who’s interested in buying your stuff, but has no idea what this stuff actually costs.

For example, just the other day I called a guy about sanding and refinishing some of my hardwood floors. Some of these bitches don’t match, and it bugs me. (Maybe I do have OCD?)

So, anyway, I’m thinking, like, how much can it really cost to run a floor sander and slap down some stain? Honestly, I could probably do it myself—AND HERE I GO THINKING ARROGANT THINGS, JUST LIKE YOUR CLIENTS PROBABLY THINK ABOUT YOUR WORK (THEY DEFINITELY DO IF YOU’RE A WRITER)—but I’d rather have it professionally done, because I CaRe AbOuT InTerIoR DeSigN. I care about these floors! So, I’ll let some guy named Frankie have a look.

Well, Frankie is a VERY nice man.

Like, I kinda love Frankie?

We text and he uses the giggle emoji (I love when people use emojis, soothes my soul) and I send him photographs and I even send him all the dimensions just like a good little homeowner (I used my iPhone’s measuring app, I am a champion) and I wait with bated breath until how long it’ll be that Frankie and I are skipping off into a sophisticated walnut-hued sunset. (I’m obsessed with this kitchen and am mimicking it as much as a weiner like me can.)

Then, Frankie texts me back.

There’s a number with dollar signs on the screen.

I don’t like the number with dollar signs on the screen.

The number with dollar signs on the screen makes me feel like someone just dumped hot tar down my ass crack.

Of course, I don’t let Frankie know that. Instead, I play it super cool. I feel like I owe him the dignity of not balking at his price.

The number is $5,500, plus tax.

My first instinct, of course, was “that’s the cost of a four wheeler” which is apparently the benchmark against which I measure everything now. And then I thought, “shoot, I could re-tile the Taj Mahal for that price,” which is obviously an exaggeration but my whole personality is an exaggeration so please enjoy the ride.

Now, whether or not refinishing my hardwood floors should cost $5,500 is irrelevant (just kidding, is this reasonable?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!?!)—the point is, I’ve never done this before, and have no idea what these kinds of things cost. In my brain, I was thinking around $2K-ish, which is a completely made up number that has no basis in fact and is entirely unfounded. But, that’s the figure I had in my head, because I AM AN UNEDUCATED CONSUMER WHO KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT WOOD, and therefore! Anything that comes in over the $2K mark is going to give me sticker shock.

It is not rational, but it’s how brains work.

We’re all operating on a made-up narrative.

That narrative is entirely imaginary.

But, it’s what we imagine that things “should” cost.

(Just yesterday I was all up in arms about how much faux florals & greenery cost. Why are these like $34 per stem?! And you’ve used twelve to create the bouquet in the photo?!?! Please explain why these do not cost $5 per stem, which is what I have in my brain from the time I was twelve years old and roaming around an A.C. Moore.)

Frankie then sends another text.

“Everything has to be removed prior to our arrival. We’ll be in the space for about a week.”

And now I really have anxiety. Where am I going to put it all? How can I do that? Do I have to hire the movers again? The floors I want refinished are all the ones downstairs—am I supposed to move the furniture upstairs??? How am I going to make all this happen???

So, now we’ve got three factors at play:

1. Holy shit, it costs what??????
2. Holy shit, I need to do what???
3. Holy shit, it’s going to take what???

These are called objections.

What’s funny is, I didn’t have these before the conversation.

They only came as a result of the conversation.

And—here’s the secret—more than the money, it was the anxiety of the other two combined with the price tag that really made me decline.

I want to talk about this, because this, right here, is not selling: it’s telling. And, this is the difference between being a struggling freelancer, and having so much money it’s coming out your eyelids.

Most people TELL.

You tell a client what the price is. You tell a client what it includes. You tell a client how it works.

“Includes 25 edited photos.” “Cost is per double-spaced page.” “Cost does not include sniffing my dirty socks.”

That’s telling.

But telling is not the same as selling.

Because you know what the client hears?

RETREAT! RETREAT! THAT’S WAY MORE EXPENSIVE & HARD THAN I WAS THINKING.

Once they see that big, fat, glaring number and all sorts of new complications, it’s game over. There’s too much sticker shock. And, it doesn’t feel like they’re getting a fair deal.

People want a fair deal.

So your goal?

Is to make your number feel fair.

This is the decision you have to make when it comes to your pricing: how can you do that?

It doesn’t matter if it’s a big number as long as it feels fair to the buyer. ← This, right here, is critical.

So, how do we make things feel fair???

We listen to the client.

We figure out how we can best help the client.

And then we give them several options.

This is called selling.

For example!

Let’s say Frankie didn’t just shoot me a random number. Let’s say, instead, he listened to what I was saying—”hmmmm, I’m not sure how I’m going to get the furniture out of the way and where to put it and how to make this all happen????”

All these questions are opportunities.

If I’m Frankie, here’s what I’m going to do instead. I’m going to consider how I can best help this client, based on her specific situation, and based on the things she is literally telling me are a barrier to the sale. I’m going to ask her questions. I’m going to see what matters to her. Equally, I’m going to see what doesn’t matter to her. All so I can frame my proposal in a way that’s going to feel not only fair, but DREAMY.

You want to be a hero in your client’s life.

What I would have done instead is this:

1. I would have first talked to the client and asked allllll about the house and the floors and her dreams and ideas. This shows you’re invested. Clients really appreciate this, and they become emotionally attached. Compare that to the contractor who’s in a big rush and speaks in a huff and tries to get off the phone quickly. More importantly, you get to hear what they really, really want and need and what they value. This is critical. Most people skip this step. You should not: it’s where you’re getting all of your most important intel.
2. Then, I would have asked questions about their “ideal scenario.” For example: “In your ideal scenario, what’s more important: that we get this done fast, or that you don’t have to leave the house during the process?”
3. Thirdly, I would walk a client through the whole process and how it usually works—e.g. “Typically we’d be in your space for about a week, and we’d need all of the furniture removed.” I’m waiting to hear a reaction. In my case, when Frankie told me this, I was flummoxed at the idea I’d have to have it all removed all at once—and how would I pull it off by myself?
4. Fourthly—this is clutch—I’ll then present the client with A FAVOR. “I know you work from home and you said you’d rather not have to leave the house during the process. I also know that it would be hard for you to move all of your furniture out by yourself, especially when you just moved it all in. So, I have an idea for how we can fix that.
5. Then, finally! I’d present the client with three (3) helpful options, increasing in helpfulness, and taking into consideration everything I know about their situation (and what their ideal scenario looks like). I know three seems like a random number, but it’s not: it takes this decision from “yes/no,” to “which one of these options would be best for me???” Most people, FYI, will always choose the middle option. They justify that they’re not going with the cheapest, but they’re also not being rash and going with the most expensive. Though some people will totally go with the most expensive option, and YOUR KNICKERS WILL BE KNOCKED RIGHT OFF.

Here is what I mean!

This is an example of how I’d pitch a client if I were Frankie (and especially if I want to increase my average client spend from $5,500 to $7,500 without hardly doing anything different…all while making the client’s life better, easier, and more awesome).

Behold, the options I would send:

Option 1: The fastest & cheapest, for swanky new floors in record time.
We’ll come in and make your walls jealous of your floors. Walnut dreamboats, here we come! All we’ll need you to do is have all of your furniture moved out and ready for us in time, so we can do our finest work sanding, refinishing, applying 1 stain, 1 sealer, and two coats of polyurethane. Yup, comes with all of that! This is extra love we give your floors to make sure that your investment stays protected. Timeline: One ultra productive week, with a November 1st start date. Includes: All four rooms, no unfinished business. Fee: $1375 at reservation, $1375 on our project start date, $1375 after we’ve completed our staining step, and the final $1375 upon project finish. Just reply and say Option 1 if this is the best option for you.


Option 2: The convenient & calm option, for swanky floors without the hassle.
Not sure where to put all of your stuff—or how to get it out? No problem! Instead of doing it all at once, we’ll go one room at a time, so you can move your furniture throughout the house as required—without needing to put it out on the lawn. Also includes sanding, refinishing, applying 1 stain, 1 sealer, and two coats of polyurethane, but the timeline is extended, since we’re doing each room independently from start to finish, making it easier to work from home without interrupting your life. Timeline: ten exciting days, with a November 1st start date. Includes: All four rooms. Fee: $1625 at reservation, $1625 on our project start date, $1625 after we’ve completed our staining step, and the final $1625 upon project finish. Just reply and say Option 2 if this is the most convenient option for you.


Option 3: The superhero option, for swanky floors without lifting a single finger.
We know it’s hard to move furniture by yourself and interrupt your life and have to manage that whole process, so with this package, we’ll do it for you! GO TEAM. We will work room-by-room, and our staff will take care of moving your furniture from place to place (you won’t have to hire movers or strain to do it yourself), making it a breeze to make your floors the gorgeous walnut gaga color you crave. All you’ve got to do is give us the go, we’ll include it all—you’ll barely know we’re there. Timeline: ten short days, with a November 1st start date. Includes: All four rooms, and loads of muscle. Cost: $1875 at reservation, $1875 on our project start date, $1875 after we’ve completed our staining step, and the final $1875 upon project finish. Just reply and say Option 3 if this is the easiest option for you!

And voila.

You know what I would have picked? Definitely #2 or #3. Because now the price tag feels justified. (And it’s also helpful that I broke it down into more digestible payments, to reduce the initial sticker shock and make the project feel more financially manageable. Pro tip!)

But you know what the best part is?

Instead of feeling sold to, you feel like this guy is doing you a favor—and, you’ll be happy to pay the additional fees to have your problems solved. (Budget pending, of course.)

This is soooooooooo important to note: great selling doesn’t feel like selling. It feels like helping.

If you focus on helping your clients as much as possible, you will be the hero every time.

People don’t mind paying for good help.

They mind paying for things they don’t understand.

A big part of the selling process is simply helping to hold a client’s hand through the uncertainties. If they feel secure with you, they will be much more likely to buy from you—and making a client feel secure is all about seeing them, and hearing them, and responding to them, and making a genuine effort to help them.

There is no “one price fits all” if you’re doing this right. Not because you’re trying to charge people as much money as possible, but because you’re trying to help people as much as possible (and be compensated accordingly).

And that, right there, is the key to how you can charge more without feeling icky or salesy about it. You aren’t selling, you are helping.

And guess what?

More often than not, you’ll earn far more than you would have quoted them in the first place.