Sunday 20 January 2013

'PUBLISHERS', PROMISES & P*SH - (I'VE HEARD THAT SONG BEFORE)...

I didn't know what to illustrate this post with, so here's a photo of me looking young,
windswept and interesting in 1976 or '77.  What a handsome chap, even if I say so myself

Sometimes I'm too soft for my own good.  Allow me to elucidate.  There's a small-time, part-time comics 'outfit' who produce the odd publication every few years, for whom I once did some lettering.  I did it for half my usual rate, on the understanding that if any future issues were to be produced, I'd get to letter them at something closer to a more realistic amount.  A few years went by, and I happened to meet the self-styled 'publisher' (it's not his real job - he's got a nine to five one doing something else), who mentioned that he was going to produce another issue featuring the same character.

"And will I be lettering it?" I enquired of him, mindful of his previous promise to me.  "Er - well, I'd like that," he said, hesitating, "but because you do hand-lettering and everything's done on computer these days, there'd be a few practical problems to sort out.  If we can work our way around them, I don't see why not.  Leave it with me - I'll do my best."  I was left with the strong impression that he was going to go all-out to facilitate my participation on the project.

On a couple of subsequent occasions when I ran into him (in an art studio in Glasgow), it was pretty much a repeat of the same.  A few minutes after our last chat, I walked into another room in the studio to find him and another fellow hunched over a computer, lettering the strip with a computer font.  The same fellow to whom I had given my lettering samples (for nothing) on a previous occasion so that he could letter his own artwork.  I don't think he ever got around to transferring the fonts to computer.  If he did, at least he had the 'decency' not to use them on the job which I'd been led to expect I'd be doing.

"I thought you said I'd be lettering these pages once you'd worked out the practical problems?" I put to him.  "Well, that's not quite what I said" he lied, in finest weaselly fashion.  Obviously, he'd only been stringing me along and had no intention of involving me, but was just too spineless to say so up-front.  Even allowing for a genuine misunderstanding of our recent exchanges however, he was clearly in breach of the promise he had previously made to me when I did my first lettering job for him.

Which just goes to show that some people are full of p*sh and will say whatever is expedient to get what they want at the time.  Never mind - what goes around comes around, so they say.

******

I found a review of the publication I lettered for this outfit which originally appeared on a website and thought you might be interested in this relevant extract:  "The whole thing (is) capped by bravura hand-lettering performance by Kid Robson who, in these heady days of Blambot Fonts, PCs and iMacs shows us what can still be done by a talented human."  So, no question I did a good job then - and for a vastly reduced rate.  I can only assume that the short, bald 'publisher' resents me for being tall, with a full, luxuriant head of hair.  It won't be for my obvious integrity - that's clearly not something to which he aspires.
   
The end of the world - from a signboard outside The Salon cinema at the bottom
of Albert Road, Southsea, in 1981.  The cinema was demolished in 1985

However, it's not only people playing at being publishers who let you down: those with less exalted pretensions are also prone to taking advantage of folks of a helpful disposition such as myself.  Case in point: Someone I knew had started up a business somewhere in Glasgow.  It was a Fish & Chip shop with an adjoining cafe, and business had been slow.  Would I go in and bestow the benefit of my professional calligraphic skills upon their fitted menu boards and thereby improve the look of the place?  They couldn't afford to pay me much, but....

"Say no more" I ejaculated (behave), "I'll help all I can - and won't charge you a penny!"  I had a job at the time which was three days on and three off, so at the first available opportunity, I was driven into Glasgow and set about my task.  I was busy until early evening, at which time I was asked "So - how much do we owe you...?"  "Nothing," I said, "I told you it wouldn't cost."  "Would you like something to eat then?" enquired the grateful hubby.  "Well, I wouldn't say no to a fish supper" I replied, salivating at the prospect.  And what a huge fish it was - with loads of chips and a can of Coke to wash it down. 

However, the chap's wife wanted a few more signs up around the place, so I consented to return the following day.  Again, it took a good few hours, and when I finished I was once more asked if I wanted a fish supper.  "Lovely, thanks very much" I said, dribbling at the mouth.  However, just then the hubby's attention was required elsewhere for a few moments, so he asked his wife to attend to my seafood sustenance.  As she was instructing the assistant behind the counter, I heard her mutter "Just give him a small fish."  The supper I was handed was a poor second compared to the generous helping I'd been given the night before - with fewer chips, to boot.

But there's more!  A sign needed a finishing touch, so I agreed to return the next day.  The wife said she'd pick me up at a certain time in the morning, to which I assented, but said that if she wasn't there for that time and I didn't hear from her to say why, I'd assume she wasn't coming and go out for the day.  I made that very clear because it was the last of my three days off and I didn't want to be sitting around the house waiting for someone who wasn't going to arrive.

The next day dawned with no sign of her at the appointed hour.  No 'phone call was forthcoming, so as I was all washed and dressed I decided to go out and hit the shops and perhaps treat myself to a fry-up breakfast.  Later that day when I returned home, there was a message on my answering-machine apologising for the 'no-show' and saying that she would be along for me shortly.  This had been left a good hour (perhaps more) after the agreed time, and as I'd been out when it was left I never heard it - nor was I in if or when she'd come chapping.

There was no point returning the call as it was now far too late in the day to do anything.  Besides, she'd probably 'phone back and arrange another time.  As I was the one obliging them on my days off for nothing more than an ever-diminishing meal, I wasn't about to put myself out any further - it was really up to them to contact me.  (And I was irked by her meanness the day before.)  Never heard from either of them again, which goes to show how truly appreciative they were of my generous nature.  It was as if they thought they were doing me a favour.

One thing I've learned in this life is that the more you do for for nothing (or next-to-nothing), the less people respect you for it.  So charge the full price whenever you can.  Then you'll have your self-respect - and some cash in your pocket into the bargain.  

10 comments:

DeadSpiderEye said...

So she let you overhear the, "Just a small one..." that's so rich. Those signs they put up in the shops aint cheap either

Kid said...

It's not so much that she 'let' me overhear, DSE, it's just that I had keener ears than she obviously thought. Some people, eh?

Anonymous said...

Most people wouldn't expect a plumber to unclog their drain for free, or a mechanic to repair their car for free, or an electrician to install their wiring for free. With artists and writers, however, there seems to be a constant expectation of free service. "Would you make some signs for our bake sale?" "How about writing a story for our fanzine?" Robert Heinlein said that the most useful word in any language is, "No."

Kid said...

It is indeed a word to be cultivated. However, there are two even more effective words, the second of which is 'off'. I think I'll be using them more often from now on.

Anonymous said...

Well, the thing is you see, plumbers and electricians and folk like that...well, it's work, isn't it?

But you (and by that, I sadly include myself) arty sorts, well, you like doing that kind of thing, you'd be doing it even if you weren't getting paid for it, right.

...And so since it's not really work, you oughtn't really worry about not only doing it for nothing, but standing by as "clients" suddenly become the pickiest, most finicky, demanding b*st*rds whom you'd normally cross the road to avoid.

You (and I really mean we) should be so grateful that they asked you (as in us) to do something for them...it's a matter that's come more to the fore lately with photographers discovering images posted online being pinched and turning up promoting other people. "You should be glad for the exposure" etc etc....but I'm wandering into another whole rant here.



grumpily
B Smith

Kid said...

Sounds as if you've had the same experience as myself, eh? Someone once asked me if I'd draw a portrait of some pop star for her daughter as she wasn't prepared to pay £17 for an unframed print from a shop. I politely excused myself on the grounds that I was too busy. After all, what made her think that an original, unique piece of art would be cheaper than a mass-produced print from a shop? As I said - some people, eh?

NP said...

Don't get me started on this topic. I've long been an advocate of 'You get what you pay for', and if I think the publisher isn't going to pay or is going to 'renegotiate' the rate after the fact, I give them a standard of work that I consider appropriate. Record so far, 55 minutes to do a page I eventually got £20 for. Not great, but not a bad rate!

Kid said...

Good on you, NP. However, if I thought a publisher wasn't going to pay, I wouldn't do it in the first place. Having said that, however, my art jobs were occasional things that weren't my main source of income. As you're a fulltime cartoonist whose living depends on it, I suppose you have to occasionally take the risk in the hope of generating future work. Still, it's a bummer when people try to take advantage, eh?

Mr Straightman said...

It's easy to make promises, but it's hard to make good on them. A certain comic editor back in the day promised to send me a drawing board, set square and art materials in the post, knowing that I was poorer than a church mouse at the time. 21 years later, I'm still waiting.
On the off-chance that he's reading this, stick them up your bum. I'm not interested.

Kid said...

An editor promised to send me some extra back issues of a Summer Special I'd lettered for her (and some more work) back in the early '90s. Like you, I'm still waiting. Let's hope she's now doing a job for which her talents are more suited - working in McDonalds.



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