Commission Without The Commiserating
Years ago, when I was starting out as an illustrator, I worked a full-time job and took commissions on the side. As I was still starting out, I didn’t charge as much as I perhaps should have, but not so little that I was basically working for free.
The office job was absolutely soul-sucking, but hey, you gotta pay the rent somehow. To make it a little more bearable, I would often draw during my lunch break. It would always be for pleasure, rather than commissions.
One day, one of my colleagues saw me working on a piece and complimented it.
Colleague: “I love your art style.”
Me: “Oh. Thank you.”
Colleague: “Do you take commissions?”
I admit, I had been both expecting and dreading this question. The moment people find out you can draw – or do anything creative, really – they waste no time in trying to get you to make stuff for them. This wouldn’t be a problem if not for the fact that people also tend to expect to get such things for very little or even for free.
I could deal with such entitled requests online. It’s easy enough to ignore or block a persistent, entitled virtual person. But when they’re somebody you see every day, in person… It’s harder and more awkward. Still, I needed the money.
Me: “I do. I can send you my rates if you like.”
I expected pushback, but [Colleague] just smiled and nodded.
Colleague: “Of course! I’ll email you details of what I’d like, if that’s okay?”
Me: “Yes, that would be great!”
When I got back from lunch, there was an email from [Colleague]. Her sister loved frogs, so she wanted an A4 illustration of frogs at a Renaissance fair (her other favourite thing). I draw a lot of animals, and I’ve certainly been to my share of Renaissance fairs, so this was no problem.
I sent her a link to my website, which contained my portfolio, gave her a quote, and braced myself.
Sure enough, a while later, [Colleague] came to my desk.
Colleague: “Oh, hi, [My Name]. Do you have a minute to talk about the commission?”
I nodded. Better to get this over with.
Colleague: “It’s just… I’m not sure your rate is very fair.”
I cursed myself internally, wishing I’d told her I wasn’t taking commissions right now.
Colleague: “It isn’t nearly as high as it should be for the quality of your work. I can’t believe you’d charge so little for a full illustration like this.”
At first, I thought I’d misheard her. It took me a minute to process what she had said.
Colleague: “If it’s alright with you, how about I pay you [double the amount I had quoted]?”
Me: “I… uh… sure.”
Colleague: *Smiling.* “Good. Where can I send the money?”
When I finally picked my jaw off the floor, we went over the details, I gave her my payment info, and we went back to work. [Colleague] paid me the full amount by the end of the day.
I finished her piece a few weeks later, and I presented it to her at work. She was absolutely thrilled and left me glowing reviews on my website.
Now, you might be thinking that’s how commissions work, right? It certainly SHOULD be, but in my experience, it rarely is. I’ve lost count of how many people rail against me for daring to charge for my work. Excuses range from “But it’s just a hobby!” to “Your work is s*** (even though I desperately want you to draw me something)!” and everything in between. Even some members of my own family have felt entitled to illustrations for free.
So, you can imagine how refreshing it was to deal with [Colleague]. She commissioned me several more times, and I even received commission requests from some of her family members. Thankfully, all of them were as respectful as [Colleague].
From what I gathered from our chats here and there, she wasn’t creative herself or anything, but she was a lover of all things creative. Maybe she couldn’t draw or sew or sculpt, but she loved and enjoyed art in all its forms. As far as she was concerned, such things had value, and therefore creators should be paid for their time and effort.
Whenever I’m having a rough day with an extra entitled client, I think about [Colleague], and remember that not everyone is an entitled selfish douche nozzle.