The Pre-Project Note: A Short, Honest Guide to Collaborating With You
Photo: minimal desk notebook laptop natural light collaboration planning, via 3.bp.blogspot.com
Every few weeks I have the same conversation. It starts somewhere around minute twelve of a discovery call, just after the bit about timelines, and it goes like this: how do you prefer to communicate, what does good feedback look like, and what happens if we disagree halfway through? I answer honestly, the other person nods, and we both pretend I will remember to say the same thing next time. I usually do. But it is a lot of talking for information that could sit on one page.
That is the case for a short collaboration guide on your site. Not a services page with a list of deliverables. Not a contract in disguise. A plain-spoken note that says: here is how I tend to work, here is what helps, and here is what we do when it goes sideways. It is the sort of thing a thoughtful freelancer would tell you over coffee, written down before the invoice appears.
Why a page beats a speech
A discovery call is a poor place to store operational detail. You are both trying to work out whether the project is a fit, and the practical stuff gets squeezed into the last five minutes when everyone is already thinking about their next meeting. A page gives those details a home. It also does something quieter: it shows self-awareness. Anyone can say they are 'collaborative'. A short guide that explains how you actually run a project is evidence.
The trick is to keep it human. The moment it reads like a terms and conditions document, people stop reading. Think of it as a note to a new colleague, not a policy for a supplier.
Start with the boring bits, because they matter
Channels and hours are where most small frictions begin. Say where you like to work. For me, email is the record and WhatsApp is for the day-to-day. I check messages between nine and five on weekdays, and I do not answer them on a Sunday unless the building is on fire. That sounds obvious, but plenty of people assume everyone is reachable at all hours. Writing it down gives the other person permission to relax.
Be specific about response times without being rigid. 'Within one working day' is clearer than 'promptly'. If you are away, say so. If you work compressed hours, say that too. A line about bank holidays and the odd Friday afternoon off will do more for your professional reputation than a paragraph about 'passionate communication'.
Feedback needs a rhythm, not a barrage
Most projects do not suffer from too little feedback. They suffer from feedback arriving in the wrong shape at the wrong time. A quick note on Tuesday, a long email on Thursday, a passing comment in a call on Friday, and suddenly nobody is sure which version is live.
A collaboration guide can set a simple rhythm: comments consolidated in one place, a weekly check-in, and a clear note on when feedback is due. It helps to say what kind of feedback is useful. 'Tell me what is not working and why' is better than 'let me know your thoughts'. You can also say what you will do with it: acknowledge, group it, respond with a plan. That small promise makes people less likely to fire off a nervous message at 11pm.
Decisions and who holds the pen
This is the section people skip, and it is usually the one that matters most. Who makes the final call? If the client is the decision-maker, say so. If you need sign-off from two people, say that too. A short line like 'one nominated decision-maker keeps things moving' is not political. It is practical.
It also helps to explain how you handle disagreement. Not in a dramatic way. Something like: if we disagree on a direction, I will explain the trade-off, you will make the call, and we will note it so we are not relitigating it three weeks later. That is not weakness. It is a project management skill dressed in normal clothes.
Turnaround is a diary, not a promise
Clients often hear 'two weeks' and imagine two weeks of your undivided attention. You know it is two weeks alongside three other projects and a school run. A collaboration guide can gently explain how your time works: when you batch work, when you are available for calls, and how much notice you need for a change of direction.
Keep it factual rather than defensive. 'I plan my week on Monday morning, so requests that arrive after that may land the following week' is honest and useful. It also gives you a script for the moment someone asks for a same-day turnaround. You can point to the page without sounding like you are quoting legislation.
When it goes sideways, have a reset line ready
Every project has a wobble. A missed deadline, a brief that shifts, a piece of feedback that lands badly. The collaboration guide is a good place to say what happens next. Not a disciplinary process. A reset.
Mine is simple: if something feels off, we book twenty minutes, name the problem, agree one change, and carry on. No post-mortem unless someone wants one. That line has saved me from more awkward email threads than any contract clause. It tells the other person that friction is normal and manageable, which is a surprisingly rare thing to say out loud.
Keep it short, keep it current
One page is plenty. Five sections, a few bullet points, a sentence at the top explaining what the page is for. Review it twice a year, or whenever you notice yourself giving the same caveat on every call. If a line stops being true, change it. A stale guide is worse than no guide, because it makes you look like you are not paying attention to your own working life.
And remember what the page is not. It is not a services list. It is not a substitute for a contract. It is not a set of rigid rules designed to keep people at arm's length. It is a small act of clarity: here is how I work, here is how we can work well together, and here is what I will do if we get stuck. That is worth a page on anyone's site.