The publication where I worked (around 2010 to 2015) put out an advertising-heavy special edition. Since we had to do our normal publication on top of this, and since the boss kept trying to cut hours and avoid overtime, he chose to hire an outside production freelancer to lay out the special section.
We sent the freelancer placeholder copy (lorem ipsum) and ads so he could mock up the layout. As approved ads and final copy came in, we’d send him the finished replacements to flow into the designated spaces.
The freelancer worked at home, but our boss kept in contact with him and assured us that everything was going fine in the special section.
Print day rolled around, and suddenly, nobody could contact the freelancer. He wasn’t responding to emails or answering his phone. The boss said everything was fine — that he’d seen the section, and it was perfect.
Two hours past our print deadline, my boss came in, tossed us a DVD with a wink, and said, “See? I told you everything would work out just fine.” The freelancer had dropped by and delivered our section, picked up his check, and left.
Well, we’d be a little late to the printer, but at least we had our section. We’d do some rapid corrections in InDesign and send it out ASAP. Let’s see what’s on the DVD…
Flattened, uneditable PDFs — essentially pictures of each page of the special section. And each page was a disaster.
The boss had sent the freelancer uncorrected copy to use as placeholder text, and that’s what was in the PDFs, complete with typos and notes to the editor, like “Daniel Defresne !!CHECK SPELLING!!”. One article was still completely in lorem ipsum.
Large sections of each page were left blank. The paper was full of outdated and expired placeholder ads.
Full-page color ads for serious advertisers (like, you know, Microsoft) consisted of a blank white page with “ad: microsoft” written in the middle.
We turned to the boss in amazement. This was a disaster. We couldn’t run this. We’d need to somehow create an entire new special section in the next thirty minutes, or else we’d—
That’s when my boss said he’d told the freelancer to send the files directly to the printer.
It was now 4:00 am, it was too late to stop printing, and pulling the special section meant we’d have to pull the normal publication, as well.
So, the special edition hit the streets in shamefully amateur disaster nightmare form, and we had to void $15,000 worth of advertising contracts.