Unquiet
Things

As someone who writes about art and culture and has a modest but established presence online, I get my fair share of collaboration requests. Most are perfectly reasonable; people introduce themselves, explain their project, and clearly outline what they’re proposing. But occasionally, I receive something so bewildering that it becomes…I don’t know…let’s call it a learning experience for all involved.

Earlier this morning, I received an email with the subject line “collaborative project.” Intriguing! The entire body of the message read: “I wrote a book on [insert niche but somewhat vague spiritual topic here].”

That’s it. No introduction, no explanation, no proposal. Just a statement of fact delivered with the confidence of someone who clearly expected me to… do something with this information.

My initial internal response was a confused “and…?” But I try to give people the benefit of the doubt, so I responded: “Hi [Name], congrats on your book. I’m curious/confused…did you intend for there to be more to your message?”

The reply: “No, I was just wondering if you were willing to work through my book?”

“Work through” the book. Still no title, no description, no explanation of what this would entail. I began to wonder if English might not be their first language, or if they were perhaps new to professional communication. A quick search revealed no online presence for this person as an author, which only deepened the mystery.

At this point, I was genuinely trying to understand what they wanted, so I asked for clarification: what type of collaboration they had in mind, what their book’s current status was, what they might be offering in return, and their timeline and budget if applicable.

Their response was a revelation:

“I was looking for someone to read it and maybe draw pictures and submit with me! It’s a manuscript. It’s about [subject matter]. No editing, just pictures!”

At this point, I had to clarify the obvious: “I am sorry to say, I am not an artist. I can’t even draw stick figures! I think you may have me confused with someone else, I’m a writer who focuses on art and culture, but I don’t create visual art myself.”

But anyway, let me break down what they were asking:

1. Read their entire unpublished manuscript (ostensibly for free)
2. Create illustrations for it (no doubt also for free)
3. Do the work of helping them submit it to publishers (I am guessing this would be unpaid as well.)
4. All of this based on zero information about the actual content, quality, or potential of the work

The scope of the request was… impressive.

Plot Twist! It gets weirder! Just when I thought this saga was over, another email arrived:

“Are you sure you didn’t make that tarot deck? I think you might have sent the wrong one.”

I stared at my screen. A tarot deck? What tarot deck? I responded with genuine bewilderment: “Now I am even more confused. I have never created a tarot deck, or any oracle deck, or divinatory device. I am the author of The Art of the Occult and assorted titles and the creator of the Unquiet Things blog. Which tarot deck are you referring to? And what is it that you believe I sent you?”

Because truly, I think I’d remember doing something as awesome as creating a tarot deck.

At this point, I started wondering if I was dealing with a bot, some kind of automated outreach gone wrong, or someone who had me thoroughly confused with multiple other people. The combination of vague collaboration requests, complete lack of research about what I actually do, and now mysterious tarot deck accusations was starting to feel less like ordinary confusion and more like a glitch in the matrix, or the beginning of that horror movie where the masked killers just knock on random doors to see who answers.

So. What Went Wrong Here? This email exchange is a perfect example of how not to approach potential collaborators. The failures include:

Lack of basic information: A collaboration request should include your project’s title, a brief description, and your credentials or experience. “I wrote a book” tells me nothing.

No clear proposal: What exactly are you asking for? Editing? Promotion? Creative partnership? The word “collaboration” covers a lot of ground.

Assumption of free labor: Creative work, whether writing, illustration, or editing, is professional work that people get paid for. Asking someone to illustrate your manuscript for free is like asking a plumber to install your bathroom “for the exposure.”

No research: It became clear they had no idea what I actually do. I write about art; I don’t create visual art. A few minutes on my website would have clarified this.

Backwards approach: They led with the vaguest possible description and only revealed the actual (unreasonable) request after multiple exchanges.

Just a few thoughts on better outreach from someone who has reached out a time or two. Although…look, I really resent being put in the position of delivering “teachable moments” here—who am I to teach anyone anything? We’ve all been beginners at some point, I’ve sent my share of cringey emails in my early days, and I’m sure many of us can look back and wince at our first attempts at professional communication. The learning curve is real, and there’s no shame in not knowing how to do something you’ve never done before.

That said, from my own experience receiving these kinds of emails, here are some approaches that tend to work better when I get them:

In my experience, I respond better when people lead with who they are: A brief introduction, including background and relevant experience, goes a long way.

I find it helpful when the project is described clearly: Title, genre, current status (published, manuscript, proposal stage), and a concise description of what it’s about.

What works for me is when people explain the collaboration: What specific role would I play? What would they contribute? What would I contribute?

I appreciate when there’s some thought about mutual benefits: What’s in it for me? Payment, shared credit, promotional opportunities, creative fulfillment?

It’s obvious when someone has done their research: They demonstrate that they understand what I do and why I might be a good fit for their project.

Basic professionalism matters: Proper grammar, relevant links or samples, and respect for people’s time.

Here’s the thing that seasoned or more experienced writers and artists understand, but people who haven’t navigated this might not: creative folks get a lot of these requests. We have to be selective about how we spend our time and energy. A vague, poorly thought-out approach suggests that the project itself might be similarly unfocused.

Moreover, asking for free creative work reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of the creative economy. Illustration, editing, design—these are skilled professions. Would you email a lawyer and ask them to casually “work through” your legal case? Would you contact an accountant and ask them to “maybe do some numbers” for your business?

But it was important to me to be kind (no matter how annoyed I was.) Despite my internal eye-rolling, I did try to help this person understand how to approach this better. I explained that I’m not an artist, suggested they research freelance illustrators who might be a better fit, and gently noted that for future outreach to potential collaborators, they might want to lead with more details about their project.

Because I really don’t think they were intentionally trying to take advantage. I think they genuinely didn’t understand how any of this works. We all have to start somewhere, and figuring out professional norms isn’t always intuitive.

Whether it’s automated spam, a confused individual managing too many conversations poorly, or someone who’s simply not operating in consensus reality, I’ve decided this is where I get off this particular train.

The Takeaway: If you’re a creator who gets these kinds of emails, remember that setting boundaries doesn’t make you mean, it makes you professional. You can be kind while still protecting your time and expertise.

And if you’re someone looking to collaborate, maybe take a step back and ask yourself: Am I approaching this person the way I’d want to be approached? Am I offering something of value in return for what I’m asking? Have I done my homework about what they actually do?

We’re all figuring this stuff out as we go. A little preparation and consideration goes a long way to making the recipient more receptive and to making you look less of a weirdo.

Have you received memorably strange collaboration requests? I’d love to hear your stories—and your theories about what’s actually happening in exchanges like these.