More questions about spec work. This one's from Ed Smith and here's what Ed has to say…
One thing I think makes the prospect of spec work harder to evaluate for a beginner artist versus a writer is that for the most part they don't know the value of the work they are being asked to do. The Writers Guild does a great job of giving pricing guidelines for various types of writing work, but I've never seen anything similar for artists. Obviously the time spent on the work doesn't necessarily correlate to the value, i.e., a comic book cover and a character design for a cartoon might take roughly the same time to draw, but they have nowhere near the same use or value to the company. Do you know of anyplace that does give any sort of guidance along those lines?
There are a lot of artist organizations like the Graphic Artists Guild that can help, though I suspect your best source would be to get acquainted with artists who are established in the specific arena where you yearn to work. Just out of sheer camaraderie, most artists are not reticent to share that info with new folks. Also of course, most of 'em recognize that it is not in their own interests to have good new kids roaming about their business naively undercharging for their services.
I also think you can figure out a certain amount of this yourself if you just dump the "dream" part and fixate on the practical aspect of a job. The amount of time you spend on something is a factor in the price but generally only as a bottom line.
Most commercial artists I know have a certain, secret hourly figure below which they will not go except in extreme financial emergency. They might share that figure with a colleague but they'd never share it with an employer. A few years ago, a comic book artist I knew told me his was $60 an hour. It's probably more now but let's say it's still $60. When he's offered a job, he does a quick mental calculation.
He estimates how long the job will probably take him. Learning how to gauge that only comes with experience but even an amateur can learn how long it takes him to finish a given drawing. If this artist friend of mine decides it's ten hours, then $600 becomes in his mind the least he'll accept for it. He never quotes that number to the buyer. He asks for as much as he thinks he can get but $600 is as low as he'll go.
How much above $600 he'll feel is proper can depend on many factors, the main one being the value of his work to the buyer. If his contribution will be an important element of a multi-million dollar project, the price for it shoots a lot higher than if he's an expendable, interchangeable component of an endeavor that might only gross $15,000. Also, is this a drawing they're going to use once or many, many times? As you note, a character design might have a long usefulness to them.
Beyond that, there are dozens of factors to consider — the prestige of the job, the odds of it leading to other jobs, the promotional or educational value to him, how wealthy or cash-poor the buyer seems to be, etc. The likelihood and richness of other offers he might otherwise do in the same time period is also a big concern. But the main one is the value of his work to the buyer. That's the main consideration as to how much above that bottom line price of (in this example) $600 he'll quote as his price.
The trick, he told me, is to get out of that mindset whereby you say, "Well, since they'll only pay $400, I'll take it. $400 is still higher than zero." Unless it's a matter of his electricity being turned off or him not being able to afford the $350 to fix that toothache he has, he'd prefer to not take the $600. He'd rather spend that time practicing or studying or even doing drawings he might sell somewhere at a later date — say, at a comic convention.
And of course, the secret to being able to turn down the $400 offer is to not be financially desperate. You know the old saying that wealth leads to more wealth? Well, an artist or writer with money in the bank usually makes even more money because they can afford to turn down the lousy offers without the slightest hesitation. They even get fewer lousy offers in the first place because it's known they aren't desperate and can say no.
If I were an artist now who felt clueless about what to charge for my work, I'd talk to other artists and I'd investigate entities like the Graphic Artists Guild and I'd do whatever I could to get more information. But when I got into a haggling situation, I'd also do my best not to appear clueless. In this world, acting like you're well-informed can often be just as good as actually being well-informed.
I'd keep this in mind: The person offering me the deal has as few resources as I do to know that the going rates are for our kind of work. He may even have less. It is quite possible that he's looking for me to give him a "tell" (the poker term) for what the price should be.
So to the extent it's possible, I'd try to act like one of those guys who's done a lot of this and knows exactly how the prices run. And even if I wasn't one, I'd try to behave like someone with enough cash in my checking account — and other offers — that you wouldn't dare offer me bad money. Don't announce you are what you aren't because that usually sounds bogus and obnoxious. Sounding like you're bluffing is worse than sounding like you're desperate.
I hate talking money. Whenever possible, I leave that to agents and lawyers because it always makes me uncomfortable. When I have to do it myself though, I remember that in any negotiation, the one who gets the better of it is usually the one who seems more likely to be ready, willing and/or able to walk away from the whole deal. If you can keep that in the back of your mind, you can usually — not always — get the best possible terms. Even when you don't know what they should be.