This is a story about enemies

... And sparkle. There's always space for sparkle.

The Clothesline is a weekly newsletter from Vanessa Chiasson offering cozy business content for writers who love to plan, read, and travel.

This is a story about enemies.

At least, that’s what I tell myself it is. What else would you call an opposing force with which you are engaged in a battle of wits and wills?

After more than a decade of freelancing, I have finally met the enemy, an adversary many of you know all too well but, hitherto, I was fortunate to avoid.

Of course, I knew about the enemy. I had even seen them before, flitting around, acting all nonchalant until the final hour, engaged in a will-they, won’t-they struggle until they finally folded their cards and walked away. But they never actually stuck around long enough for us to get acquainted and engage in battle.

I’m talking, of course, about a publication that was late — woefully so — to pay me. So naturally, I had to “go to the mattresses.”

I’ll share my spoiler now. This tale has a happy ending. I got my money. I’m sure they’d say that there was never a shadow of doubt that I’d get it. But their terms are an already-audacious net 60 and it took them nearly double that time to pony up so you tell me. 

The exact details of said battle are inconsequential (though, if you really want to know, buy me a coffee and I’ll name all the names). It doesn’t really matter what punches they threw or how many metaphorical and actual receipts I threw down. What matters is that it was one of the most demoralizing situations I’ve ever experienced and no one talks about this. I’m gonna talk about it now.

I can’t tell you what ammunition (er… make that resources) are available to you as it depends in part on things like what jurisdiction you’re in and what guilds and unions are available to you. However, I can tell you what I’ve learned about myself and our industry in the process.

1. Battle lines may appear to be drawn between a publication and a writer but, in truth, the real division is between people who are salaried and those who are not and, as such, you have very few true allies. Salary earners do not understand financial urgency the way freelancers do. They may feel a sense of obligation, responsibility, or kinship. But are they really going to give up their paid coffee break in order to track down your lost invoice? No. 

(I once told a friend about freelance struggles at a Christmas party. They said it was just awful that some people are so irresponsible. And then they said that they feel, like, SO BAD when they forget to pay someone).

2. The gaslighting is subtle and relentless all at the same time. Am I sure that I filled out the banking information correctly? Am I certain that I haven’t been paid already? 

(Say what you will about freelancers but we are really, really good when it comes to checking our bank balances. Yes, I’m sure. Very sure.)

3. Some people are “openers” (they are energized by starting something) and some people are “closers” (they are recharged when they finish something).  And nothing is more frustrating than when you desperately want to close something, when you want to shut down that open file that’s living rent-free in your brain, and you just can’t, even though you have done absolutely everything right. It creates a mental block unlike any other, making it all but impossible to start anything new.

(It also makes it impossible to register for a conference or get some new editing software because YOU HAVEN’T BEEN PAID.)

I have cheered on countless colleagues when they’ve been engrossed in their own battles with this enemy. I’ve told them to be fearless when it comes to getting an accountant on the phone or adding a late fee to their invoice. Now I know just how draining, isolating, and demoralizing this experience is. I easily spent double the amount of time on tracking down the money for this project as I did on the actual writing. I have sobbed from sheer frustration. My creativity plummeted as I directed my energy to mobilize the fighting force which is “brave Vanessa”.

And it was all for less than $500.

There are three things I’m going to do differently from now on.

1. I am not going to start work on a project until I get my contract and I’m going to make that clear. There are 100 sensible reasons for this but here’s number 101: They’re gonna know from the get-go that I’m a freelancer that does things by the books and I don’t have to start demonstrating that for the first time when they’re late with payment.

2. I’m going to start adding in late fee clauses to my contracts (which is something I have done before but I got sloppy with this one because they were already delayed getting me the paperwork and I had worked with them before several times without issue and, well, shame on me.)

3. I’m starting a ‘smite my enemies’ bank account where I can start syphoning a few bucks from each payment to hold in reserve for when this inevitably happens again. At least I can borrow from myself to protect my cash flow and sanity. 

Keep fighting the good fight, my fellow freelancers. I see you.

I’m going to end today’s newsletter on a happy note. Today’s Q2 planning workshop was absolutely wonderful and I’m so inspired by all the words of wisdom shared, perhaps none so much as this.

Sparkle on, my friends. Sparkle on!