The human side of business

Small Business

The Ten Minutes.

·

Two ads for Women’s Wear Daily. One took me under an hour to conceive and write. The other took three rounds of creative over the course of two days. I billed the same for both.

This may sound familiar: “Can you help me with XYZ? It will just take a few minutes.”

The hilarious thing about anything “just taking a few minutes,” is that it only takes you a few minutes to review the creative, rewrite the copy, fix the logo, talk someone off a cliff, post the social, adjust the picture, modify the brief, call the vendor, dissect the invoice, take the call, design the invite…because you’ve spent years getting really familiar and good at that thing – and as a result, it only takes a few minutes. It’s actually WHY it just takes a few minutes!

Sometimes it can feel like people minimize this – they incorrectly calculate that because it’s 10 minutes of your time, it must cost ten minutes of their money or ten points of their appreciation.

This lesson was made really clear to me with a client in New York City, an older gentleman who’s pearls of wisdom come from stories of days gone by. I lamented sending him a sizable invoice for an ad concept (above) that had only taken me a few minutes to create, because similar types of work had taken me two days for the same price. This disparity bothered me – and I was transparent about it.

“How can I charge you the same fee for work that took less than half the time?”

He shared of a friend who had gotten himself into serious tax trouble, to such a degree that his lawyer called him and told him not to come back to the office, or go home, because the authorities were at his door. The lawyer reassured him that he would initiate resolving the issue immediately. The troubled client wondered how long he would have to flee the city in order for his lawyer to fix things with the government. Four hours later, the lawyer called and said, “I fixed it and you can go home now.” The client was thrilled at his efficiency and smarts, until he got the bill on Monday. He called the lawyer in disbelief at how four hours work could possibly cost this many thousands of dollars. The lawyer said, “Sir, you don’t pay me to read the book. You pay me to know which page to find the answer.”

This is why charging by the hour is problematic for certain types of work. Whether it took you 8 minutes or three days, some “services” need a flat fee. Others are time-intensive, no matter what, and your experience has to be calculated according to the efficiencies, expertise and insight you bring to the hours it really takes.

Know the difference on this for yourself. When I create ads, they have to be short, disarming messages that run in national or international publications, like the New York Times. That’s a big weight to carry, but I charge for that. Sometimes it comes easily. Sometimes it doesn’t. But it always costs the same.

Share

Instagram

  • A good day to celebrate 48! #hbdtome🎉 #aliveandwell
  • Today, I got down on my knees and did something I’m slightly ashamed to say… I haven’t done in a very long time. I cleaned all the floors in my house. I scrubbed the corners of the bathrooms, the places that no one sees until they look too closely. I scoured the kitchen, edge to edge. It is a privilege (under normal circumstances) to be able to outsource this work. At the same time, it was on my knees that felt right on this day. On one’s knees there is humility. It’s the way we pray; it’s where we play with our babies, and where we come to understand what vulnerability really means. It’s often where we cry. There’s something about being close to the ground, the earth. The act of lowering our bodies also lowers our walls, our egos, our pride. Once, when I was in India, I saw something that I still think of often. I was sitting in the courtyard of a shrine, an open square surrounded by an ancient wall whose center housed a divine Hindi god. There are hundreds like them. Thousands of people, of all socioeconomic groups, were making their way in and out. The very, very poor – shoeless, toothless, penniless – stood alongside the very rich, with expensive watches and waiting drivers. Some were moving slowly, others in a rush. Worship, in India is a daily devotional practice – a stop on the way to work as much as a holy family outing. I watched as throngs of people poured out of every doorway, walking briskly past the others who had prostrated themselves in front of the structure itself – some, kneeling, noses down, others laid out on their bellies, arms outstretched in supplication. This chaotic scene plays out often there – to the curiosity of Westerners who can’t imagine ourselves face down in our own sacred venues – which might be church for some, or a concert for others. A young man, maybe 20-years old, in his rush to leave, inadvertently stepped on the arm of an elder woman still in the process of worship. With her face down buried into the stone, she most certainly felt the injury – it was the full weight of his body on her frail wrist. But she didn’t move. (Cont. in comments)
  • A very happy 10th birthday to this lil stinker. Have a feeling we’ll remember this one. #hbd #noparty #morecake
  • I can’t remember the last time… I had time. When I wasn’t in a hurry. When I wasn’t doing two, three, even four things – at once. This is unprecedented. Perhaps even sacred. Strangely, I’m now beginning to realize how upset I’ve been at never having enough… Hours…..Space…..Width…..Depth. We, as a culture, know so little about staying in one place. About settling in. About being quiet, within the quiet, in the soft corners of our interiors. We talk about it. But how much do we embody it? Our footprints are on everything, even while we talk about stillness. Our minds are everywhere, even as we preach about mindfulness. Yet, there are some of us – many of us I’m learning – who see the gift in this (undoubtedly) finite moment. We are doing things we haven’t had time to do in years. Our schedules are empty, and one thing doesn’t have to be sacrificed for another, because the day just got a lot longer. We aren’t checking the box, we’re climbing out of it – even as we’re confined to it. For the first time in a long while, we can hear ourselves think. Yes, the thoughts are scary, uncertain, confronting and even bleak at times. We see suffering, and fear. But somewhere, deep inside, is that relief I also feel? A regeneration is happening. What can we learn? What can be birthed – in all this space? What closure – within us, around us – has been forced, that needs to take hold? I hope this time can and will mean something. Because unequivocally, we are getting a message, if we’re willing to hear it. Could this be the beginning of everything that needs to be next? I’m going to let it come. And then, let it roar. I want to be ready for something precious and bold. I want this to be the time… we didn’t go back to that. We have some change to make. #covid_19
  • Instagram Image

About

SMARTY began as a thriving community in Los Angeles and Boston with weekly panel discussions and events designed to better understand the mindset and growth strategies behind successful entrepreneurs. Today, SMARTY is a weekly blog written by Amy Swift Crosby who chronicles her life as a creative, parent, entrepreneur and spiritual seeker. As an urban refugee living in a New England seaside village, she unpacks topics ranging from uncertainty and doubt to the built environment and advertising. More on Amy.

Never Miss a Post

Follow Us

Latest Posts