My Punctuality Sucks, But This Is Ridiculous

Once, early in my freelance writing and editing career, I novelized a screenplay a client had written, sending him sets of three chapters for approval and payment. The contract was clear that he must pay for each set of chapters before I’d start on the next set, and he was good about paying in a timely manner. We successfully made it all the way to the last three chapters, which he was to pay for before I delivered the complete manuscript.

Money hadn’t been a problem up until now, but suddenly, he couldn’t pay me the last installment. He claimed financial distress and said he’d pay as soon as he could get the money together. He asked if I’d send the chapters anyway, but I respectfully declined.

He disappeared for three years only to reemerge, claiming he’d gotten caught up in a natural disaster in which he’d lost a family member. He asked me to give him the chapters for which he’d gladly pay three times the amount he owed… as soon as he could afford it. I declined again and, again, he disappeared.

When he reemerged roughly another three years later, he told me he knew someone powerful in the entertainment industry who had promised to publish the book and make us all rich. It was a sure thing and he could prove it. He sent me a link to this person’s website, thereby proving that they (or at least their website) existed. All I needed to do was send the last three chapters.

Believe it or not, I passed on this “sure thing.” I just wanted what I was owed right then, not a larger slice of pie in the sky (which, due to the existence of gravity, is not a Thing).

Long story short, the client disappeared and reappeared yet again with promises of a huge payday and cover credit… if I’d just give him the last three chapters. When I declined once more, he was silent for about a week, then claimed he’d managed to cobble together the money, asked if he could Venmo it to me, and… crickets.

At some point in all of this, I Googled the fellow by his business handle and discovered that during one of his absences, he’d been in prison on fraud charges — more specifically, for promising something he could not produce while being paid a lot of money to produce it.

Ten years after the original contract was executed, he finally paid me what he owed (plus $25 for my trouble). I immediately sent the complete novel.

The last I heard from him, he asked if I’d design a cover for the book. I have the perfect image for it, but he’s disappeared again.

Suffice it to say that my contracts now have a rider for late fees.