Your website will be live in days, not months. That isn't a shortcut.
Ask most agencies how long a website takes and you’ll hear the same answer. Eight weeks. Twelve weeks. Sometimes longer, and always with a slight wince, as if you’d asked something unreasonable.
We do it in days.
The first thing people usually think when they hear that is: what’s the catch? Fair enough. That’s the right instinct, and it deserves a straight answer. So here it is.
Why most websites take months
It isn’t because the work is hard. It’s because the process is broken, and because you’re sat in a queue.
Here’s what those twelve weeks actually contain. A fortnight waiting for someone to get round to you. A discovery call that could have been an email. Three rounds of mockups because nobody established what you needed in the first place. A month of silence. A chase-up email. Another round of revisions because the original brief was vague. More silence. Then, eventually, a site.
Almost none of that is work. It’s waiting, backtracking, and rework caused by not knowing what you were doing at the start.
The client pays for all of it.
The speed is the output, not the shortcut
Here’s the bit I’d like you to sit with, because it’s the whole point.
I spent six months building INKON before I took it seriously as a business. Not building websites. Building the system that builds them. Working out what actually needs deciding, in what order, and what the right answer usually is. Writing it all down. Testing it. Throwing half of it away and doing it again.
And on top of that sits thirty years of doing this trade. Letraset and spray mount, then PageMaker, then the web. I’ve watched every Google shake-up since 2011, and I’ve learned which ones mattered and which ones were noise.
So when your site is live in days, that isn’t me cutting corners. It’s six months of condensing three decades into something that just works, arriving all at once, on your project.
The speed isn’t the achievement. The six months that made the speed possible is the achievement. You’re getting the benefit of it.
What that means in practice
Because the thinking was done up front, the deciding is quick. I already know what a plumber in Poulton needs on his site, and how it differs from what a hotel in Lytham needs. I’m not working it out on your money.
There’s no queue, because the system does the repetitive work. There’s no third round of mockups, because the questions that cause round three got asked before round one. There’s no month of silence, because there’s nothing to be silent about.
You get the site. Then, because it’s live rather than sat in someone’s backlog for another six weeks, it starts earning you enquiries six weeks earlier. That, in the end, is the actual point of the whole exercise.
Which brings me to the hourly rate
The way this trade usually prices itself is genuinely backwards, and speed is what exposes it.
If you bill by the hour, you get paid more for being slow. The designer who takes three weeks to do a thing earns three times as much as the designer who gets it right in a day. The bloke still learning bills more than the bloke who already knows.
Read that again, because it’s mad. The hourly rate punishes the person who’s actually good at it.
And it puts you and me on opposite sides. Every hour I save you costs me money. Every inefficiency I fail to fix earns me a bit more. I don’t want to work like that, and you shouldn’t want to buy from someone who does.
So we price the outcome
That’s why every price is on the pricing page, in public, with no “request a quote” nonsense. You know what it costs before you speak to me.
You’re not buying my hours. You’re buying the decisions. You’re buying thirty years of knowing which things matter and which things people only think matter. That value doesn’t change based on how long I sit at the desk, so it shouldn’t be priced as though it does.
The honest caveat
I’ll be straight with you, because that’s how we work here.
Fast doesn’t mean instant, and it doesn’t mean you do nothing. I still need things from you: what you actually do, who you do it for, the towns you cover, some decent photos of your work. If you take three weeks to send me the photos, your site takes three weeks. That bit’s on you, and no system fixes it.
And fast doesn’t mean finished. A website isn’t a thing you build and walk away from, which is the whole reason the plans are monthly rather than a one-off invoice. The build being quick is what frees up the time to keep working on it afterwards, month after month. That’s where the results actually come from.
So: live in days, yes. Then looked after properly, for as long as you want it looked after.
What you should take from this
If someone tells you a website takes three months, ask them what happens during those three months. Ask them how much of it is you waiting. You’ll find the answer interesting.
Speed, done properly, isn’t a red flag. It’s what expertise looks like once someone’s bothered to organise it.
Want to see what your site should be doing for you? Get your free audit, or email hello@inkon.co.uk. I read every message myself.