After a few months of pitching stories from home in my pajamas and slippers, a friend told me about an opening for an Associate Editor at a women's magazine. I had left an Assistant Editor job at another women's magazine to freelance-and I did enjoy the schedule-but I was ready to return to an office where I could talk to people instead of the squirrel on my window ledge. I sent in my resume and a few clips, and I had a meeting with the Managing Editor the next week.
During my interview, I met the Managing and Executive Editors, as well as the Editor-in-Chief. The job duties sounded fantastic-covering international issues in a section that would be mine to edit and assign-and I was excited at the prospect of going back to an office. I turned in an edit test with story ideas and the next week.
When HR called to arrange another meeting on behalf of the editors, I thought it was a good sign. I couldn't wait to hear if they'd make me an offer. I filled out the official application form, listing my previous positions and salaries. When the HR rep looked at the form, her face dropped. "Oh," she said. "They're actually offering a little bit less for the Associate position than you used to make."
Bummer. This was a position I really wanted, but I knew I was worth more than what they were offering-about 10% less than I made at my previous job. I was honest with the HR rep and told her politely that I couldn't take the job at that salary. She said she'd talk to the editors, but I walked away thinking it was over and resigning myself to a few more months at the freelance desk (where, by the way, I was making about 20% more than what they were offering).
The next day, I got a call from the Managing Editor. She asked me if I would take the job at the same pay that I had been making at my old job. As nice as it was that they upped their offer, I really wanted more, and I told her so. Then she asked me for an exact number.
I had never negotiated a thing in my life, let alone a money issue, and I felt really uncomfortable naming a specific figure. I told her I'd have to think about it and call her back in the morning.
Having bought myself some time, I emailed editor friends at other magazines and checked the ed2010 salary board to figure out my magic number. I decided to ask for about 30 percent more than their original offer, thinking I might be able to get 15-20 percent more after we bargained.
When I called the Managing editor, I was willing my voice not to waver. "I would love to take this job, and I know I would be a great fit in the position, but I really can't do it for less than…" and then I named my number. After an excruciating minute of silence (ok, so it was probably five seconds, but it felt like an hour), she said she'd get back to me, and she hung up.
Just 20 minutes later, she called me back and just said, "Ok. See you Monday." I couldn't believe it! I'd gotten exactly what I'd asked for-which was much more than I expected.
Who knew that doing some background research, knowing your worth and standing fast could work in salary negotiations? Well, I guess that all makes sense, but I felt young and inexperienced. I realized that they're probably not going to retract an offer because you asked for more money-more likely they'll respect you for it, and tell you what's possible. In my case, that was 30 percent more than the original offer. Now I can afford the Grande lattes at Starbucks-and sometimes I even spring for a Venti.
