About a week ago (or two?) someone on Facebook messaged and they asked for a referral, and I said sure—let me see what I can do. Now, I get a lot of messages for referrals or where people are working on something and need direction. I love to help when and if I can.
So, last night, this man asks if I can write a bio for him. This is the chat that ensued:
By the end of it, I was pretty pissed, but I felt I restrained myself. I let myself balk at the incredulity of this man’s self-absorption and arrogance.
Let’s look at what happened—he asked for a favor involving my professional expertise. My response spoke for itself. Sure—give me details, and I’ll give you the rate for the work.
See, people don’t think of it this way—would you, at any point, go into a restaurant and ask the server if they could like, feed you, but you’re not gonna pay them? (Actually, some people DO do that—ewe.) I’d love to see the service you got if you told the server from the word “go” that you just wanted something for nothing.
Listen, I love to help others and do acts of kindness. This is an intuitive process, and not everyone is either someone I feel is right for me to help in that moment or in that way, and sometimes, I literally cannot. And most often when I can, I happily do.
But I felt my response made it clear that I was willing to offer the service.
Then, he revealed—he’s a user. Okay. You’re wanting something for nothing.
I contemplated this—a bio is easy. I don’t know anything about this man other than his name, and I have no idea what the bio is for. What’s the tone? What information needs to be in it? Is there a length requirement? If I’m going to do something, I’m doing it right. I actually do respect myself.
But, I acquiesced—write something for me to start with, get all of the nuts and bolts in, and I’ll polish it right on up. Depending on the recipe I’m starting with, I can be in and out of the kitchen in minutes, but listen, there are some things you think you can microwave but that ultimately have to be roasted low and slow, and that takes time, and you know what time costs? Other than the elasticity in your face? It costs money, sweetheart.
I don’t need experience or exposure. If I want experience, I’ll try mushrooms, and if I want exposure, I’ll check my Twitter DMs. My time and my talent are as valuable as I am, darling. But thanks for playing.
Red Flag #1: Downplaying and trying to negate your response
So, the first red flag is acting like the request isn’t that big of a deal—like, gosh, aren’t I being unreasonable.
No, motherfucker. What’s unreasonable is asking a widowed mother of three to get something for nothing.
But, I kept that to myself.
Red Flag #2: Treating me like I am unreasonable
The second red flag was his bullshit “joke” that “don’t charge me for that comment”. In this, he was trying to—again—project that I was being unreasonable.
I say “project” because that’s what he was doing. He was projecting that I was being unreasonable when in fact, he was the one being unreasonable.
Red Flag #3: Retaliation and lack of gratitude
Though I wasn’t relishing the task, and I will NEVER do this again, so thanks, user, I’d given him options—write it and I’ll edit it, or be patient because unpaid work is not nor can it be a priority. I literally do not have time because guess what—cracker jack—my down time, my time to relax and have fun and to do things.
I should add that my work is one of my “fun things”. But as for time to dick around and do nothing. That does NOT exist. I have a house to keep maintained, a business I’m trying to start and run, online courses I’m creating, stories I’m telling, books I’m writing, pictures and videos I’m taking and editing, and uploading. I really hope you’re exhausted just reading about what it’s like to be me. Imagine BEING me.
But no, you single or divorced or whatever it is you are man, please, shat on me for not being able to write a fucking bio for you. Which, respectfully, I guess I should’ve agreed to and outsourced to my 11-year-old.
Ah, there’s my inner snark. Missed you, baby. Let’s ride.
But yeah. No. I just spent 4.5 years in a masterclass with a manipulator and gaslighter and user and blah, blah, blah who I was delusionally in love with. Boy, I don’t even have feelings for you. I’m loving and kind to you because you’re a human being, but by no means do I owe you shit.
Literally, I know my bar of soap better than this man. Bruh.
And the “not my bar of soap” didn’t even have the courtesy to say thank you that I was offering to help him sans charge if he could wait for me to have free time (in 12-15 business years).
Red Flag #4: Deflection, blame, shame
Oh, he’s going down fast now. Now, he’s going back through our largely nonexistent conversation to find something he can use to shame and blame me.
At this point, he’s feeling rectally wounded, and has decided, like a three-year-old, to get revenge. Ooooh, yes. Let’s see what you have with your tiny swinging fists.
I know, I’m being bitchy, but I’m allowed to be bitchy. This is little-bitch energy behavior, and the way this person talked about what they’re doing and their plans, I thought they had more character than that. I mean, you’re going to start being entrepreneurial, you really think that kind of entitled and abusive conduct is going to get you there—because yes trying to project shame and blame are absolutely low-vibe behaviors, and they will keep you grounded, like the way you sink when you scuba. You don’t have the lightness to rise because you keep blowing hard to get air out, so you can sink. You sink, swim, or rise. I don’t recommend sinking, but that wasn’t my place to note.
I had tried to connect him with a friend—whose a brilliant graphic illustrator and who has an absolute heart of gold, integrity, and character. If it was a mistake I tried to link this person up—my bad. But I’m glad he blocked my number.
I’ve always had a hard time with blocking people, energy. I do love everyone, and this was hard. I had to be firm with myself because I blocked his number, and after I said my peace, I blocked him on Facebook.
REAL TALK IF YOU WANT TO WORK WITH AN ARTIST
Okay, so if you want to work with someone, abide the golden rule—do unto others. Do you want me to ask you if you can find and sell me a house for free? To tutor my kids for free—just this once? To shoot my wedding? No? Okay, then you’re getting somewhere.
What you do when you ask an artist if they can do work “for free” is (1) insult them, and (2) show everyone the kind of person you are.
You have no respect for yourself. That’s obvious because of your disrespect for me. You might also be a sexist and think that as a woman, I’m your glorified secretary. Awwweeee. No.
I did have a client like that, an elderly gentleman who is no longer living (I had nothing to do with it). I made a lot of mistakes with that client, but I learned a lot, and I chose to not have boundaries, but I calculated how much being “nice” cost, and it was just under $8,000, and that client, who was pushy and demanding and needy—who clearly thought he was my only client or priority—even when my husband was sick and even after he died—never paid me. Yep. Because I was trying to “be nice”.
The Takeaway for Artists
Okay, love-bugs, this isn’t the happiest truth, but you’re going to have to say “no”. You’re going to have to demand payment up-front because cheap SOBs, as my graphic artist friend was recounting when we ran into each other by divine intervention on Tuesday, he learned the hard way (don’t we all) to charge on the front end. People can see his work, decide if they like it, and then there you go. But in the past, he said, he’d do work for clients and then they’d come up with some reason to complain or not to pay.
As a writer and editor, in the past, I’ve split the percentage for projects—pay a lesser percent up front, pay the majority before the work is returned, and pay the final 10% on the back-end, and this isn’t a bad approach, but I think for those of us who write or edit on a per-project basis, go ahead and charge the full amount, but only do this if you can deliver on your deliverables and timeline.
I realize it’s difficult to meet deadlines as artists and creators—or just anyone with ADHD, but I’ll note that I would not adopt the approach of charging fully on the front end unless I could meet all of my deliverables because you not only lose credibility when you don’t do what you say you’ll do and when (and yes, I’ve dropped many balls), but you’ll also open yourself up to lose both time and money because in any contract done right, your failure to meet the contract terms gives the client leverage to redact their work and reclaim their payment, thus wasting your time, and it also makes you look bad. So, take this with a grain of salt.
But to be sure—know what you can and can’t do. Know what you will and won’t do. Know that your TIME and TALENT are valuable. Tell any cheap MFer to go use ChatGPT or an AI module like I did.
I hate for the people who don’t respect themselves that they feel the need to show up this way. It makes me sad. It’s a disappointment. It’s unfortunate because what they show is a lack of respect and value for their own skills and talents, and it shows a need for approval and acceptance. Because his response was totally emotional, illogical, and unprofessional. And his attempt to manipulate me by using our Facebook “friend’s” status was pitiful.
I meant what I said. I am friendly. I love and respect and care for all souls, but we are not friends because we’ve spoken online a little bit. Being a friend is an honor. It’s earned. I do know people who act like every person they worked with or had a decent conversation with or friended on Facebook was a “friend”. No. That’s an acquaintance you like enough to speak to again.
Tell me my birthday. Tell me my favorite color (okay, that one is easy.). Tell me something true about me. Tell me what I did last week. Tell me what I’m writing. Tell me what I’m most concerned about. Tell me what I’m working on. Tell me where I hope to travel to soon. Tell me something about me that only a friend would know.
Yeah. A body count isn’t an indication of friends. If you don’t show genuine interest and curiosity about people, you can’t be friends, and you sure, sure as shit can’t be more. Not that this person was barking up that tree, but I mean, how is life if you don’t get curious? What do you talk about if you’re not trying to discover and then invest in the people you call friends? The weather? The pedantry of your day-to-day? Your favorite TV show? I don’t get it. I don’t get shallowness. I’m sorry, but I don’t.
So, when he had the audacity to try to manipulate me like that, I said, “Hold up, bruh.” I wasn’t trying to be mean, but I was letting him know that either he’s clueless about what friends are or he’s being manipulative—and really, it was both.
Trying to hit a nerve by saying “I thought we were friends” in so many words is pure manipulation. Again, it’s like a three year old saying, “But I thought you loved me,” after you refuse to let them sleep in the washing machine.
Artists and writers and editors, as largely caring and empathetic people, I know this is hard work. It was hard for me to even not offer to help this man for free. A bio isn’t that much work, but I considered—my kids, my own work, my own ambition, and then I considered my scant free time, how I don’t get to see people I want to, and I said, “No.”
I can see now why for some, no doesn’t mean no. Because they can’t take “no” for an answer. And maybe that’s the biggest red flag.
Trust me in this, writers, editors, artists, creators—anyone—if someone tries to push your boundaries, don’t even go as far as I did. Fuck what they think. Say, “I’m sorry, but this won’t work out. Please seek services elsewhere,” and don’t reply after that. If you struggle to not reply, block them. Protect your energy, my creative and expressionistic love. You deserve the best, but you must show the rest what that looks like before you can obtain it. Trust me.