Remember that article I did for that magazine a couple months back? Yeah, well, I still havent been paid for it yet. According to the contract I signed, I was to be paid at the end of the publishing month, meaning my paycheck was supposed to have been in my mailbox/checking account by February 29. March 1, the latest. But time went by, and I got nothing. What I did get was another contract for another story for the next upcoming issue.
Was this how things were done in the magazine world? Were stories handed out like candy, while the paychecks just sat around like a bowl of creamed peas? I had to find out. I had to take a stand. So, thinking like a mature adult would (and maybe even a professional writer), I called my publisher, Harry, and in a very diplomatic manner, I explained to him that I couldnt possibly write another word until I had been paid in full for my last story. It was actually one of the few acts I have done in my life, that made me feel like a grown-up. Of course, it took me a few times (more like fifteen) to say it perfectly, but thank God, voicemails now have that feature that allow you to listen to your message and re-record if necessary!
The next day, I got a mass email from Harry, explaining the fact that the first issue ended up taking a slight loss because the magazine ended up having a larger page count than anticipated. Harry then went on to say that outstanding payments were currently being paid and asked if we could all be patient and bear with the fact that we are a new business still trying to work out all the kinks. I am of course paraphrasing the email, but immeadiately after I read it, I felt guilty. So guilty.
Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe I was too forceful. I almost felt as if he was directing the email towards me, because I had called the day before. I knew it wasnt just me he was addressing the email too, but in the back of my mind, I couldnt help but feel I was the one who had opened up the figurative Pandora's box of regret and apology. I immeadiately signed my contract, faxed it over to Harry and left to Italy the following day.
While in Italy, I forgot about the late paycheck, the email and everything else in between. That is, until I reached U.S. soil. My email and voice mailbox was bombarded with messages from writers and photographers alike who I worked with. From their angry and bitter messages, I learned that they had still not recieved a paycheck and no one was returning their calls. I also learned that Harry had filed for bankruptcy in December of last year, which I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the magazine, but it was being passed in my direction as "general information".
Something wasnt right. I didnt know what to do. Was I supposed to return the messages, which would undoubtedly fuel their fire of anger when I told them I still hadnt been paid? I dont know. Somewhere deep down in me, I I wasnt worried. Something told me I would be paid real soon, as if this was nothing but a minor setback for a new and growing business. After all, if it's true Rome wasnt built in a day, then how could I expect the start of a magazine to be perfect after only one issue? Plus, these people took a chance on me, a complete unknown, and gave me an entire section of a magazine. How could I turn against them? Is it just me or am I being too naive?
Was this how things were done in the magazine world? Were stories handed out like candy, while the paychecks just sat around like a bowl of creamed peas? I had to find out. I had to take a stand. So, thinking like a mature adult would (and maybe even a professional writer), I called my publisher, Harry, and in a very diplomatic manner, I explained to him that I couldnt possibly write another word until I had been paid in full for my last story. It was actually one of the few acts I have done in my life, that made me feel like a grown-up. Of course, it took me a few times (more like fifteen) to say it perfectly, but thank God, voicemails now have that feature that allow you to listen to your message and re-record if necessary!
The next day, I got a mass email from Harry, explaining the fact that the first issue ended up taking a slight loss because the magazine ended up having a larger page count than anticipated. Harry then went on to say that outstanding payments were currently being paid and asked if we could all be patient and bear with the fact that we are a new business still trying to work out all the kinks. I am of course paraphrasing the email, but immeadiately after I read it, I felt guilty. So guilty.
Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe I was too forceful. I almost felt as if he was directing the email towards me, because I had called the day before. I knew it wasnt just me he was addressing the email too, but in the back of my mind, I couldnt help but feel I was the one who had opened up the figurative Pandora's box of regret and apology. I immeadiately signed my contract, faxed it over to Harry and left to Italy the following day.
While in Italy, I forgot about the late paycheck, the email and everything else in between. That is, until I reached U.S. soil. My email and voice mailbox was bombarded with messages from writers and photographers alike who I worked with. From their angry and bitter messages, I learned that they had still not recieved a paycheck and no one was returning their calls. I also learned that Harry had filed for bankruptcy in December of last year, which I'm not sure if it has anything to do with the magazine, but it was being passed in my direction as "general information".
Something wasnt right. I didnt know what to do. Was I supposed to return the messages, which would undoubtedly fuel their fire of anger when I told them I still hadnt been paid? I dont know. Somewhere deep down in me, I I wasnt worried. Something told me I would be paid real soon, as if this was nothing but a minor setback for a new and growing business. After all, if it's true Rome wasnt built in a day, then how could I expect the start of a magazine to be perfect after only one issue? Plus, these people took a chance on me, a complete unknown, and gave me an entire section of a magazine. How could I turn against them? Is it just me or am I being too naive?
|