Shall I Simply Bend Over to Make it Easier for You?

Dearies, remember the controlling soul who went silent on Frumpie during a major group project? He returned a few weeks ago. Well, he’s back again, only this time to strip Frumpie of the credit for the project entirely.

In the project, Frumpie coordinated all the copy, assigned editorial staff, and made damn sure the edited copy was returned on time. I worked with the authors in the process to ensure they were meeting deadlines so that the editorial staff could meet deadlines. I appointed editorial staff and I managed the editorial process.

Well, it would seem once this person pre-empted me months ago, bringing in his own “editorial oversight committee”, he removed me from the project altogether. And thank you ever so much, you freak, for letting me know. I was to see this through from compilation to publication. Yet when it got to committee, he decided he wanted to run the show. So he put another editor on the project, an anonymous man (I say with a raised eyebrow) who now he says did the majority of the work. Of course the “man”, whom I am sure looks quite a lot like this man’s mirror image, did do a good deal of editing, for the process Frumpie had laid on in writing to this jerk from Day One was that the first edits would be compiled before I began sifting through the copy to make sure it all flowed nicely and that the editors in fact had done their jobs correctly. I had tapped three editors to stand by for round two of our process.

Alas, now I’m being told that golly gee and shucks almighty, we’re hoping to give you a different title in the process. Let’s call you assistant editor, he said, because the “man” he put onto the project did, as he called it, the lion’s share of the work.

Let’s call you a loser, shall we? And let’s call you a sniveling moron for not communicating with me whatsoever until it was time to assign credit. And let’s just say that if anything less than managing editor appears next to my name, you’re toast. Hell hath no fury comparable to a Frumpie who’s being rearended so someone else can name himself Lord and Master of the process.

And Those Who Can’t Do Teach

Do you darlings smell that? It’s the sound of a fried and still smoldering Frump. I have just had a condescending note back from a client who is probably the age of Frumpie’s oldest child. This young thing, who knows it all, has just told Frump how to do her job properly. And she’s given me examples.

Yes dearies, this young one has told me, a veteran writer, how to put together a proper document because in all her years of business, she’s determined the proper way of doing things that everyone must follow. If only her methods were sensible. If only the moon really were made of cheese.

Oh, sweetheart. If you had a clue in that little brain of yours, you’d understand that the key to winning people to your side is not in showing them how wrong they are from your perspective. That you said, “To demonstrate, I have just done this in order to show you that” shows how terribly young and naive you are. Your methods are straight out of a 30-year-old textbook, which is surprising given that you couldn’t be anywhere near that old.  Oh, and next time you expect miracles of me, please provide proper information as requested so I can deliver said miracle. Otherwise, you’ll be just as disappointed as you are right now. Oh, I guess that’s a lesson you just learned, isn’t it? Perhaps you’re not the only one who can teach.

Brat.

Let’s Pretend It’s My Fault

If it weren’t for people telling Frumpie how wrong she is, she might actually believe she is right. Here’s an example; Frumpie talked with a lovely PR person who set up an interview with a client. The PR woman gave Frumpie a specific time to be at her phone so this client could call for the interview. Mind you, Frumpie doesn’t like this type of interview situation, because often clients forget to call. That seemed to be the case last week.

Ah, but no. I contacted the PR woman after her client failed to call. She promised to follow up with her client, and she did, for I got a message on Friday night. It went like this:

“Hi. (PR Woman) told me to give you a call to reschedule. I waited by the phone at 9 a.m. for you to call, then I get this message in a meeting from (PR Woman) to call you back. Here I am. I’m home all weekend.”

Well you see, I’m not. I’m in a different time zone, too. So while you were thinking I was calling you at 9 a.m., it was actually you who was supposed to call me at 10 a.m. Since I didn’t have your number, calling you was obviously not something anyone besides you expected. And I do want to thank you so much for not being at the phone when I called you just now. I asked if you were available at 5 p.m. your time, to which you said yes and you thanked me. Here it is, 5 p.m. your time. Unless you live in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, which I know you don’t, you’ve once again not been where you said you’d be.

Forget it, interviewee slouch. Your story may be compelling, but it won’t be told. Yes, you’re busy. Honey, so am I. My life does not revolve around your work schedule, and I’ve been more than a little accommodating, given that it’s 8:20 p.m. my time and you’ve yet to call me back. Just don’t bother.  I have many other contacts who are eager to make appointments they intend to keep.

Oh Yes, I’d Love for You to Steal My Clients!

Dearies, it’s very rare we have issues with those in our ranks. Yet on the rarest of occasions, a writer will make the ultimate faux pas, planned or unplanned. This one dear soul, upon hearing of my upcoming client meeting, has actually volunteered to “allow” me to send my clients to his website. Yes, Frumpie is more than welcome to send the clients right to his site where he can then sell them on his products (and no doubt services).

Frumpie’s jaw is still agape at the sheer audacity of someone who would suggest so blatantly that she send her work to him so that he could make money off her networking.  For he has handouts and white papers for sale that my clients would be over-the-moon to receive. For a price, that is. His price. One with which he says he and Frumpie would share a finder’s fee. Tell me, dear soul. Why would I send the clients to your work when my very own is just as suitable, and frankly much more relevant to my business?

Pardon me for not taking you up on your offer, Oh Foolish One. Methinks your marketing attempts in general are quite thorough, but you need to learn to stop short of stealing work from others in such an obvious manner.

Shall I Hold the Match While You Burn Me?

Once upon a time there was a client who seemed quite nice at first. The dear soul wasn’t the most communicative. Emails went unanswered and Frumpie spent a lot of time wondering if the check would really arrive when he said it would. Luckily for Frumpie, the first one did.

The second one, however, went from being two weeks late to being three months late. The client contact person had also changed. The nice client who eventually got to the point was replaced by the nice-on-the-surface client who danced around and avoided the point. Instead of paying the months-late invoice, the new client replacement instead dangled carrots in front of Frumpie in an attempt to deflect from the obvious; payment was long overdue. Frumpie took no bait. The bill was finally, thankfully, paid.

Guess who’s back in Frumpie’s email? Yes dearies, this client, who is as organized as a riot, actually wrote to Frumpie asking her to send over a recent resume and to indicate what months she’s available to work for them again.

Excuse me? I have to threaten to sic my lawyer on you before you pay me and you want me to put my hand back into that flame again? A) Are you serious, and B) are you crazy? Dearies, some emails are best left unanswered. This one certainly was.

Frump you, unorganized and unworthy client. Frumpie has moved on to better paying, more deserving souls.

When You Can’t Control It, Pretend You Were Never In Charge

It’s been about four months since the project lead on the doomed collaboration decided he was now the editor. Now he’s back. Suddenly, we’re back to being a cohesive group. Why? Silly, because the work is now needed again! I cannot understand, will not understand, the incessant need of some people to have ultimate authority. I understand what it is like to herd animals, but herding your writers and editor without one word of discussion on a collaborative project of which you were not elected or appointed head?

Dear man, we’ve heard nothing from you in months. Months. Yet today’s email comes in with due dates and publication dates that I, the editor, am only now hearing about. Excuse me? Ironic that this is in fact a communication project given your lack of exercising any form of it.

Frump you. Oh, and frump the project. I was dropped from it ages ago, remember? I don’t play clean-up hitter so someone else can reap the glory.