Oh, please! You pseudo-clientele who believe you’re pulling the wool over our writerly eyes – wake up! We shan’t be blinded by your obvious lack of ethics any longer! For where amongst any in the client world would you be so silly as to think we’ll work without a contract?
Dearies, you’ll just love this one. The pseudo-client posed as a legitimate publisher of “quality” content for the specific niche market. When Frump was hired, she was quite excited to get to work. However, she had to first be “tested” with an article: a paid article, for Frump is no spring chicken to this game. The test article went well, and Frump received payment. The problems began with the very next article.
That, dearies, is when Frumpie decided to get her relationship onto paper. She sent over a standard contract, asking pseudo-publisher if he wanted to use his own or use Frump’s. The response was a bit unsettling, for pseudo-publisher said he didn’t use contracts, but that his terms were XX cents a word (unacceptable, thank you!) for whatever copy was accepted. Once Frump stopped giggling and uttering “stupid man”, she wrote back to pseudo-publisher with her concerns: what if pseudo-publisher used only 200 words of 2,000 or more? She kindly insisted on some more formal arrangement that spelled out more clearly what financial commitment pseudo-publisher was willing to make for Frump’s work. That the pseudo-publisher was already suggesting a “rounding down” of Frump’s word count (that’s right – Frump was expected to accept a word count that was “rounded down by five” instead of left put) gave Frump the clear message that this was a prime example of the need for a formal arrangement.
Again, a surprising response, for Frump was now accused of being unreasonable. How dare this Frump for questioning his moral terpitude! How dare she for not trusting him! Why, in all his years of publishing, he’d never been mistrusted so! (It was adorable, this mention of his years in publishing, for it came on the heels of Frump expressing her concern for the rounding-down issue, saying that in her 15-plus years of writing, she’d never quite come across it.) Then the pseudo-publisher had the audacity to say that he expected Frump to complete the assignment that was due in five days minus that increasingly important contract. Frump politley declined, noting that in business, one doesn’t work without a contract, no matter how forthright the client is.
Silly man.
November 12, 2007 at 10:15 pm |
I’ve also recently decided against using my clients’ contracts unless they are a well-known company. I was recently approached by someone who wanted me to sign his company’s contract but I’d never even heard of the company. I believe that traditionally, the establishment providing the goods also provides the contract. Good call Writing Frump!