My Dearest Writer, I Want You To Work Without Pay
My sincerest apologies: I would get up to shake your hand but the bags of money I am cradling weigh me down.
Please, sit. Do you like the emeralds encrusted in the chair’s armrest? If I had paid you for your work, I would only be able to afford a chair made of gold.
My Dearest Writer, I’m afraid paying you is not within our budget.
It’s a shame. But I feel the company benefits more from other expenses, such as paying my offshore accountants. It is a sad state of affairs how much accountants these days charge for the simplest of tax evasions.
But I assure you, My Dearest Writer, I have a plan. I am pushing Deans of prominent colleges to include mandatory accounting courses in Literature degrees. One day, perhaps we can all live in a perfect world, one where writers like yourself can handle my unpaid accounting too.
What’s that? Can’t I spare minimum wage?
My Dearest Writer, let me tell you a story of a boy who delivered food to me. He believed money would make him happy. So, I handed the boy $1 million dollars. And you know what? He felt like a complete fool as he counted to $999,990 in change.
There is pain in wealth, My Dearest Writer. My shoulders feel weary, my back worn down. I regret using improper posture to set my crates of thousand-dollar bills on the shelf.
What’s that? You don’t see what you’re getting out of this job?
Writer Dearest! You get exposure. If I gave you money, you’d buy things that make you happy. But I know you also take great joy in having your hard work read.
So, I reasoned, why not take the middleman of money out and give you happiness directly through exposure?
And oh, such tales of exposure I can regale you with! Alas, if only the rings and giant gemstones on my fingers did not render them immobile! I would take off my shoe and show you the underside of my small toe, whereupon I have written your co-worker’s name. Were I to walk barefoot on the glass floor of a multi-story building, your proud co-worker’s name would be broadcast to all below.
What? You feel we’re taking advantage of you?
My Sweet Writer, there is no Us vs. You. We are a team. In fact, we’ve replaced your name with the company name on the bylines of all your articles.
You are not alone. Rest assured we want your work to reach as many audiences as possible. Why else do you think the legalese in your contract gave us the right to use your writing any and everywhere we like?
If anything, you are taking advantage of us. Using us as a great learning experience.
And you know what?
We’re glad. It has been a joy to watch you grow at this company. I remember how, just a few months ago, you did not know the value of reading, and re-reading, the fine print in job contracts that lets us avoid paying you.
And here you are today, able to single-handedly stop an entire industry from blackballing you, just by continuing to work for us without pay! We’re proud of you!
What’s that? You’ll sign on for another month in return for a good reference letter?
I am heartened, My Dearest Writer. Sign the contract in front of you. I would get you a pen but all the stacks of cash on my side of the desk are like a mud pit to push through.
But we encourage out-of-the-box approaches. The emeralds jutting out from your armrest are great for pricking a finger on. Perhaps you would like to exercise your right to sign the contract in your blood?
There we go! Dearest Writer, I look forward to our continued and prosperous partnership.
