As a writer I've done a lot of projects that were a struggle to do. Not because of the work itself, but because of the content. I worked for an ad agency in Dallas that had a client list that made people yawn. I could literally see them zone out about two clients into my list as soon as they had asked "Who are your clients?" My own mother once told me she guessed that I must be good at promoting boring things. I had never looked at it that way, but I guess she was right, because I've had a successful career.
When I started doing "my own thing" again here in Texas I decided I would focus in on areas of interest to me. It helped that I had a good customer base of clients who had hired me for my expertise in certain things (initially crisis communication, then economic development, then media relations and PR, and now I guess because I'm cheap). Long story short, I've always had the "luxury" of working for people I want to work for doing things I want to do. The few times that I've lost a plum assignment working for someone I really liked, I've grieved. I like my work.
Over the years and through the economic ups and downs, I've adjusted my business strategy and philosophy as needed. A few years ago I decided I would not work with people I didn't like, no matter how good the money or how interesting the product or service. About a year ago I amended that rule (economy and all), as long as the pay was good and needed, but I still am careful what I work on.
More importantly, perhaps, in the internet age than liking the client is having a sincere interest in their product or service and in having a desire to do what Jesus would do and help them out, no matter how much I like or dislike them individually.
Based on that measure, I've fired only a few clients who didn't deserve that treatment, who didn't treat me with the same kindness, but for the most part I have had the privilege of helping a lot of people, and I feel good at the end of the day. I price my services fairly, I give a fair days work -- more than a fair day's work, often to the point of not making much money on something at all -- but I do it because it helps someone.
Today I met the point where there was a definite line in the sand. I had been alerted as I am every day to a dozen or more jobs posted on a service to which I subscribe, and which, in all honesty, brings me in a not unhappy piece of revenue on an annual basis.
I usually find one or two things on this service every week or so that make sense for me or that I want to do, sometimes because they offer a unique challenge or because it gives me a chance to learn about something interesting. But today I found one that I considered for just a moment, but then clicked away, both saddened and disgusted, and energized to write this post.
I will not, I found out, take on the challenge of assisting with a grassroots campaign to sell an ointment that cures foot fungus. That's where I draw the line. I realize that ten million people suffer from foot fungus, which I assume is a rotting, icky thing that I've seen portrayed on TV by a nasty cartoon character (shown lifting up the big toenail and jumping inside with his nasty friends). You've see the ad. It's nasty. Anyway, two people have already bid on the foot fungus job, and so they obviously need that work worse than I.
So I'll return to the pile of work I do have and quit looking for more. That should make my current clients happy, since most are waiting for me to deliver something or call them or call someone on their behalf.
I return to my work knowing that I do have choices with what I do, and today writing about a company's marketing campaign, writing a few press releases, and calling a few clients and their customers for interviews to write a feature story will have to fill my need to do something productive. I don't have any new business to work on today, but I have lots of old business, for some really great people who have businesses that are doing well if not thriving in this economy.
This little exercise this morning also has given me another reason to be thankful. Not only is the sun shining with promise of the most beautiful day of the year thus far, but I, thank the dear Lord, do not have foot fungus.
