Slander and Libel, Unite!

Yours truly has had a busy week. First, a firing and an insult at the same time, and then the accusation of slander. It came from our favorite scam artist/pseudo-client. Since the net was clearly poised to capture the sleazy little butterfly, Writing Frump felt it important to send correspondence that left no question of where the working relationship was: DOA.  And why. Like a good little passive-aggressive, pseudo-client could not let the Frump have the last word. So the correspondence back (full of typos and, heaven forbid, grammar problems) accused Writing Frump of numerous crimes of humanity, including slander. Slander. Yes, that would mean that Frump stood on a pedestal in Times Square and told the world this person was a scam artist and not to be trusted. Only Frump didn’t. No, Frump didn’t even publish anything that would be considered libel, which is what this misinformed perp really meant. Now, had Frump gone on television and said what an untrustworthy person he was, slander would certainly apply.

 Writing Frump resisted the urge to send an educational note back to said pseudo-client. You’ll be pleased to know the Frump also resisted telling this person what the definition of harassment is, since he was told not to contact the Frump again.  But it would be akin to wrestling with a pig, and we don’t enjoy getting dirty.

The Meme of the Moment

Writing Frump thanks Kathy Kerhli for including her in the latest and most enjoyable meme. This one is just deliciously evil – and exactly what I’ve come to expect from my favorite Irreverent Freelancer. I am to impart evil blogging advice upon the masses, thus driving them away forever (or perhaps just letting them have a laugh, eh?). So if you follow any of this advice, woe to your blog! Consider this your warning.

 1. Type “tee hee” at the end of every post. Unless you’re being sarcastic, “tee hee” sounds like a squirrel caught in a dryer vent and clawing to get out. It’s the cyber equivalent of nails on chalkboard. Come on – grow up to at least LOL, will you?

2. Be too cool for the rest of the world. We’ve all read blogs that are trying so hard to be edgy that, well hey, they fall right over that edge. If your blog is so full of inuendo it would take a GPS to navigate to your point, try talking like the rest of us. Oh, I know we’re no fun and we’re a bunch of frumps. But we’re your audience. If we can’t understand you, you’ll soon be the sound of one hand clapping. How cool is that?

3. Talk down to us. We so love bloggers who can’t help but impart either wisdom or their important snippets with that air of “if you were as smart/rich/beautiful/important as I am” in them. Keep talking. You may not notice you’re playing to only your oversized ego.

4. Don’t use Spell Check. Nothing screams “person whom I should listen to” more than typos and grammar gaffes. If your participle dangles lower than IQs in a beauty pageant, perhaps you should take up art.

5. Overgeneralize – a LOT. Dontcha love the political and religious blogs that claim members this faction are all heathens and everyone who voted for Pat Paulsen are Iraqi sympathizers? Take care when lumping people into categories; you never know which category you’ll end up in.

6. Get racist on us. You know you’re dying to tell the world about all the anti-semites you know, or how one race is more unbalanced than yours. Unless your goal is to get your cyber ass kicked (or your real one kicked should anyone find out where you live), keep your bigotry in check. Two other reasons: A: it’s boring, and B: it shows how much tunnel vision you have. Grow up and learn to get along with your earthly roommates.

March of the Morons

I was just fired in the nicest way. “It’s not you; it’s that I really respect and trust this person giving me advice.” Oh, so you don’t respect or trust me, is that what you’re saying? No matter how you sugar-coat it, it’s the big “frump you” to me, isn’t it? I’m fortunate that you were decent enough to pay me, I guess. But that you took the advice of “friends” who don’t understand the conversations leading up to our writing decisions pisses me off royally. Do they know what you asked for? Do they understand that we had detailed conversations and that I delivered exactly what you were happy with until they tampered with it?

 I read the results of their work, and guess what? It’s the same thing I handed to you weeks ago. Oh, there are some graphics in there to make you happy, but honey, you ended up with exactly what I gave you, minus the organization I had given you. They claimed there was no point to the copy. Yet the larger point seems to be that they’re changing next-to-nothing and claiming victory. What makes me scratch my head was the posse didn’t like the wordiness, yet they added back into the copy the very wordiness I had removed. Do you really know what the hell these people are doing to your project? Or are you following blindly those who aren’t paid to deliver good writing? Don’t bother responding. I already know the answer.

Whatever. It’s your life. If you want to have the posse pre-empt your business decisions, knock yourself out. Oh, and thanks for adding that you’d like to use my services in the future. No thanks. If you call, I’ll be quite busy working for people who trust me as a professional.

Frump you!

In the Kingdom of Overreaction

Today’s tale comes from the annals of Writing Frump history. The was once an amicable client who had the Massive Project to complete. He hired Writing Frump to complete it. Writing Frump worked tirelessly for months on end (and was so intent on getting said Massive Project done that Writing Frump’s friends were called in for writing reinforcement). Writing Frump was given to sending weekly updates to Client of the Massive Project. In said emails, Writing Frump would give a short progress report and page count.

Enter typo! In Writing Frump’s haste to get email to Client, a word count was superimposed. Writing Frump didn’t catch it immediately. However, Client did. Overreation began. How dare Writing Frump lie to Client in the past about the word count! How dare Writing Frump get paid a whole nickel more per word and take it with a clear conscience! Client was upset, disappointed, disenchanted and thinking Writing Frump was a criminal of highest degree.

Writing Frump realized the mistake, sent an urgent email apologizing profusely. To which Client of the Massive Project says, “I thought perhaps that was the case. No sweat.”

Uh, yes. Sweat. For Writing Frump had sent in emails prior copies of work done to date, which clearly showed the word count well above that which Writing Frump mentioned in the now-infamous email. Also, “no sweat” when Client has just torn Writing Frump to bits, and done so on a typo that Client claimed was already on his mind – well, kids, that seems like just a wee bit too little of an effort on Client’s part.

Despite huge urges to do so, Writing Frump did not go there. Writing Frump instead completed the project, cashed the check, and lost the client’s name. Once Writing Frump left the Kingdom of Overreaction, Writing Frump lived quite happily ever after (until the next shmuck showed up).

Pssst…..

Once upon a time, there was a client who hired an experienced writer. This client insisted the writer sign a nondisclosure agreement before beginning any work. So the writer did. Only … the client who made the writer sign isn’t the client at all. In fact, the writer was working for another client – an undisclosed client. Writing articles. Writing articles that the client is then turning around and selling to the other client. But the writer isn’t supposed to be smart enough to figure that out. The writer is also being paid (and argued with about the amount of payment) for articles that the client shreds free of any type of attribution before passing it on to the other client. The writer voiced concern, but the client was quite happy to send a point-by-point editorial on why changes were made without addressing the real issue: the removal of all attribution.

But since the only thing the writer and the client have connecting them is the nondisclosure agreement, there’s nothing to trace the complete lack of ethical standards back to the writer. And that makes her snicker, giddy with satisfaction. And it makes her glad the client no longer calls.

Where is the Love?

Dearest A-hole Client:

 Thank you for your note and your subsequent screwing of me regarding your book project. Thank you also for paying me peanuts to take eight months of crap from you, and for making me listen to your ego-filled accounts of how special your book would be. It’s sad that you screwed me over on payment in the end, but that’s okay. For your ego was so large that you rejected all my edits, thus turning out to the public the largest piece of crap since the National Enquirer.

That your book was nothing more than a string of ideas from everyone else was disturbing enough. That you quoted verbatim these other experts without attribution had me in a fluff: a fluff you completely ignored. That you stiffed me out of my full payment by using that sad “I have editors working for me and they said you aren’t doing your job” line pisses me off. Let me ask you; do you think all writers are that stupid? If you really did have editors working for you, why the hell hire me? Oh, I know: because you’re a freakin’ liar. Your secretary’s boyfriend with the English degree does not an editor make, nor does the stockroom clerk who does crossword puzzles. Just a hunch, but you didn’t learn your fabulous style from a real professional.

I loved your last note to me, which was about as professional as a four-year-old’s tantrum. I ruined the “sprit” of your book (typo? Three times? Not!) by  doing what you paid me to do – clean the thing up. You don’t know how close I came to editing that nasty note and sending it back with corrections. Frankly, if I had taken you to court (and buddy, you’re lucky it didn’t come to that), that was evidence enough that you were clueless and couldn’t be saved. That you broke the contract by firing me, citing all these mistakes I allegedly made, three days before our deadline was just too coincidental, you cheap bastard.

I love that your book is on Amazon. I love that I can make an anonymous comment. I love that I did. If I save one person from plunking down honest cash on a rip-off manuscript, it was worth going underground to do it. By the way, you’re not that special. You’re a thief. You steal copyrighted material. Luckily, you were stupid enough to write to me and chide me about how your publishing house took “only three days” to edit “correctly” your book. That leaves me completely off the hook.

 Jerk.

 Hugs and Smooches,

The Writing Frump

My Own Personal Groundhog Day

I’m living Bill Murray’s nightmare; the Project With No End is still here. They’ve edited it to DEATH. I’ve made the changes per the 15,003 emails this week alone. I’m making more changes apparently as soon as yet another person peruses the project that one of the heads of this particular project called pointless. I’m all for perfection, but I’m not all for insanity-inducing nitpicking. My entire ability as a professional is being called into question over things such as “inconsistent spacing” that occurs whenever I’m forced to, yet again, make another change. Okay, it’s one instance. Even the most anal proofreader would miss one thing, dontcha think?

 Pardon me, but will Punxsatawny Phil ever see that damned shadow??

Our First Review

Bless the dear soul over at Getting Paid to Write Online, for we just received our first review and it’s a positive. What a nice gesture, and given that this blog is less than a week old, it’s a nice start to what I hope is many years of anonymous frumping!

 Remember, no clients were harmed in the posting of this blog….

When They Call Your Talent into Question

Oh, I love the smell of my burning temper in the morning….

 Here’s where you draw the line with your client: at the very first hint of his or her doubting your abilities. Why? Because at that point, you’re forced to play “prove it to me”, a game I do not recommend to any writer. If, like my uninformed friend of a few posts ago, thinks you’re sucking at what you’re doing because Grammar Check says so, dump him. If she calls and says her mother doesn’t like the way you phrased something, thank her and send her your final invoice. If you suddenly find the rules under which you were working changing, get out. Don’t try to take control back; it’s gone.  Cut your losses and collect what’s owed you.

 If the project focus shifts, send a final invoice and mention your ongoing hourly rate. You contracted for one project, not a never-ending, ever-changing one. If she decides on a whim that no, she doesn’t want to write about that anymore, send the invoice and say you’d be happy to draw up a contract for the new, refocused piece.

But honey, if they say their friends are seeing mistakes or that their niece with the graduate education in Marketing thinks you need to rework it, run. Run far and fast, for now you’ve introduced a posse and you’re the one being hunted.

I Sent Her Into a Comma

One of the inhabitants in the house has a shirt that says “People like you are the reason people like me need medication.” I should send that to the overreacting client. Thankfully I was out on a true emergency today, for there were seven emails and yes, one lengthy voice mail, with “I can’t find this!” and “Oh wait – I found it. Never mind.” types of messages.  I cannot help that you’re feeling under pressure to get this done. I cannot help that it’s an impossibly large project. I cannot help that my version of Word is newer than yours and thus, operates differently. I cannot help thinking that I could walk through fire and not singe a single page and you’d still complain of the smoky smell, for I delivered what you wanted in under two weeks (when it would take someone working at an acceptable pace a good three weeks to get it all completed). That you’re nitpicking is fine – it’s your project, after all – but that you’re having panic attacks with each message is waaaay unnecessary. And frankly, it’s starting to piss me off.

 I want this project to be OVER. I want this client to be OUT OF MY LIFE. I like her plenty, but I don’t like her tendency to pee her pants the second a comma disrupts her otherwise period-filled existence. I cannot, and will not, take on another person’s stress and terror. I cannot, and will not, be sucked into the drama that doesn’t need to be there. And as much as this is an opportunity to break into a new market space, I cannot, and will not, work with these people again if she’s involved. Maybe it’s a market space that will come through another means.