Very Bad Publishers Part IX

Again. With Screaming

This post includes the original conclusion to the Very Bad Publishers series, but does not include the nearly 40,000 words I wrote in the Redux which went into even greater detail about adventures with Donning, Teh Crazy, “Harold” (the wannabe agent, and no, I didn’t date you when I was an underage kid in my Galadriel costume you creepy lying sonofabitch, and how’s your wife,) The Woman and her jawdropping battle with the trans editor, the battle over Publishers Weekly (where I sank into a faint at the restaurant dinner table,) and the rest of the mess that nearly made me run screaming into the night from publishing forever, but didn’t, because I didn’t want to give anyone the satisfaction.

Frank Miller, Larry Marder, me, Jeff Smith. Chillin’.

The Redux was written after I spoke to a counselor about getting back on track after going into a major creative slump during my cancer treatment. My counselor assumed the issue was due to stress. So she asked me to write down the sources of my anxiety.

A week later, I’d written almost 40,000 words, was shaking like a leaf, and could not sleep. I shared some of Redux elsewhere, and then realized if I didn’t drop it, I was just going to sink further and not get my work done.

So, I dropped it.

Then I started using Focusmate, and went right back to work after all.

Not every counselor is right for you.

Whatever.

Whether or not I will ever publish this epic tragicomedy of awful is anyone’s guess. At the very least, it’s going in an archive.

In the meantime, you get this.

Nice recommendation from the late Tom Spurgeon over at The Comics Reporter: 

Colleen Doran is detailing one of those protracted publishing horror stories that has to be read to be believed and that everyone should read before fully committing to making comics with any sense of professional devotion.

Thanks.

And at one point Frank Miller popped in to have a look since his name was taken in vain in a previous Very Bad Publisher installment. Here is his note in its entirety:

As ever, Colleen, you put things in focus. And you stand on principle, which is harder. But you can’t do one without the other. You do both well.

What a pack of gibbering losers out there. It’s like an Ayn Rand nightmare. 

Let them eat Jus.

Hang Tough,

FM

PS: Yeah, this is OK to print.

Man, reviewing all of this was draining…not nearly as draining as living it, though.

I appreciate the letters from Son of Tom, because they validate some of my memoirs, even though he disagrees on the role of Tom in the development of GN’s. As I said, didn’t really know the guy, and never worked directly with him. While Tom’s Son may not remember that his dad called himself The Father of the Graphic Novel, the term showed up in his obituary.

One thing I did learn from all this explains the puzzling problem of people who bubble up from the oubliette to raise a stink now and then: they are frozen in time, and think you are, too.

If they met you when you were 21, starting out, broke, then in their minds you are always there. No matter how much time goes by, how much you accomplish, they will assume you can still be had on the cheap, will sign crap contracts, have never done a thing with your life since they saw you, and have never learned a damned thing, either. They never do, that’s for sure.

Nothing is stranger than dealing with someone who saw you at a convention and can’t forget the sight of you in your Galadriel costume. Yes, Harold, I mean you.

And speaking of Harold, all the while he and Tom’s other minions were trying to persuade me to run off and work for Tom’s new company, at the same time, they were writing letters like this:

"It's just been crazy--I wrote to (Tom) and told him the $1,000 a month he was paying on the new book just wasn't enough to pay the bills, and if I couldn't get everything due at the end of the month, I need to know NOW, and I need to know what's realistic. And told him that's one of the reasons I won't commit to doing another book because a $1,000 month check isn't enough for me to AFFORD to spend the time writing it over a four or five month period."

And...

"(Tom) hasn't responded...this is why I am anxious to go to (REDACTED) with the (REDACTED) book. I may not be able to afford to sell it to (Tom) because of low advance and prolonged payment on royalties--and finding it out only after three months after the sales period closes. The problem isn't my book sales, it's getting paid what's due when it's due."

Just because people you knew in the past never change, don’t let that stop you from moving on, no matter how much they whine when you do. If they can’t keep up, tell them to enjoy the slower pace, and leave them behind.

I appreciate the internet, because back in the day, I couldn’t point you to this.

A case law website posted some documents from the lawsuit.

(The original link was dead, so I posted a direct link to the transcript as well as screen shot above. Basically, Donning was trying to force arbitration, but because loss of royalties was non-arbitratable, this "intertwining" with the fraud and breach of contract required the matter be decided in court. The court agreed.)

I’d say this pretty much backs up what I remember about it all. Keep in mind, the lawsuit was settled, so none of these people were found liable for anything. Our settlement was confidential, and not only have I never revealed it, I spent so much time trying not to remember it, I forgot what it was, except I was very happy about it. 

Moreover, I haven’t a clue who most of those people are, and don’t know what role they played in all this. I suppose they could get mad at me for these posts, but in ten years, no one bothered to come to me directly about them, except for the Son of Tom. This series of articles has been re-blogged 3 times since I began this chronicle in the late 1990’s. The final follow up was dated July, 2009. One month later, the original publisher (Tom’s former partner) died after a short illness. The original publisher remains primarily as a publisher of vanity and subsidized books. And Tom died a few years back.

I have no hard feelings toward the company as it exists today. Those people didn’t do anything to me, and these posts aren’t about them. None of the people I once knew are with the company any longer. 

The date here is later than I recall: 1992. Yet one more reason why my early years self publishing were particularly stressful. I started self publishing in 1991. This legal snafu ran on for nearly four years.

I also have no recollection of the court’s decision to split the suit between matters which required arbitration, and those which went to court.

A minor point; some of us had books reprinted with improper copyright notices. The book was published with an incorrect birth date in the copyright info. For years, someone spread the rumor that I changed my birthdate in a scheme to trick everyone into believing I was years younger than I actually am. Here are the court documents which show that not only did I have absolutely nothing to do with the edition of A Distant Soil that has my incorrect birth date in it, but I sued its publisher. (UPDATE: and because there are a lot of whackjobs out there, I no longer give out any private info. Including my real name or birthdate.)

It’s odd that some see a conspiracy in a typo. Stop sniffing the loser dust, people.

I also want to emphasize that Tom was gone from the publisher years before the suit, and is not named in this document. 

Reading the letters from the Son of Tom, I am happy to know this kid didn’t have a clue what was going on. I repeat, his dad had nothing to do with the legal stuff.

Shortly after this final series of posts went up, Tom’s company was sold and became an imprint of a larger label. It still publishes New Age books, but now serves as a self publishing service, charging fees for editorial and design services, as well as offering author training courses. Whatever.

A lot of the treatment I received at the old publisher was bizarrely unprofessional. I’ve said over and over that real fans are never a problem, it’s the pros (including aspiring pros) you have to watch out for. It is highly doubtful your editor at Harper Collins (I know, I worked there, too) will induce you to draw slash porn for them on the sly in exchange for food, or will publish and sell fanfic, but Starblaze was that kind of place. 

It’s not that I’m close-minded, it’s just that I subscribe to the wisdom of the Five Geek Social Fallacies, which should be required reading for anyone who comes anywhere near fandom. Just because I don’t want to draw slash for my editor for food does not mean I am making a judgment on people who enjoy kinky manga. Just don’t tell me about it.

My connection to this publisher came about in part because the man who created the Starblaze line was my mentor, Frank Kelly Freas. Kelly was discreet to a fault. Though he had a bad split with Starblaze and with Teh Crazy, he barely mentioned them until after I had signed on with them. Then he couldn’t shut up about them. Too late!

The Woman waged epic battles with fellow employees that were so hideous and personal I won’t go there. I decided not to elaborate upon them, but cannot resist a momentary mention of, because that place reached stratospheric heights of uberdrama. If I were to go into it all, then the whole epic jumps the shark and I don’t want to ski with the Fonz. I have decided not to link to blogs that do because they don’t address issues about contracts and publishing that will be of any use to you. However, I admit it was strangely comforting to discover that I was not the only one revolted by the personal dramas.

The Woman is not named in any court documents, though she was to be a witness against the authors. I leave it to you to decide whether or not it was ethical of her to stand by the publisher in this contract dispute.

Rus Wornom contacted me to let me know details of The Woman’s dismissal, from his perspective. I’ve heard various tales over the years, and have seen written accounts which conflict on all points. Rus was working on a post about his battles there, but he died last year.

He was a great guy, and I miss him a lot.

The letters by her which have been forwarded to me over the years repeatedly stress that I “overreacted”, “misunderstood”, and did not appreciate all the wonderful things she did for me at the company. I also leave it up to you to decide whether or not a professional artist is better served drawing porn for their editor in exchange for food, or if I would have been better off seeking more meaningful work that also allowed me to keep my original art. 

The Woman, despite her whining that my Teh Evil ruined her creativity, has held on to every piece of art she could grab of mine like a stack of papery totems. She even has the original art to the cover of the GN I illustrated. I got the interior art back. 

In an orgy of catharsis, one day I gathered it all up, went out to the back yard, and struck a match. 

Ashes to ashes.

It is highly doubtful most people who read this would have a clue who she is. I doubt I would recognize her if she were to walk up to me. It would be a mistake were she to attempt to seek me out again. 

From this adventure, I learned the difference between objective reality and emotional reality: there are people out there who, despite all evidence, will insist that everything they ever said and did was absolutely right and true. They really need to believe that. After lying to themselves long enough, the lie becomes real. And they seem very sincere, because they are. And that makes them difficult, indeed.

A very important reminder: the enemy of my enemy is not my friend.

Read those court documents and decide for yourself.

Over at Facebook, WH Rauf wants to know who the FIRST worst publisher I ever worked for was.

I signed a confidential settlement with Teh Crazy decades ago. The settlement agreement was breached by them within a nanosecond of my signing it, and has been breached time and again. The obvious question: why don’t I just sue them and have it out? 

When I made my lawyer aware of what the ex publisher was doing (ten years after I had last dealt with them), he said: “Check back with me and let me know if any of it sticks. If it does you any harm, we’ll act. If not, let it go.” My lawyer was not the only attorney whose assessment of their behavior boiled down to, “They’re crazy.” 

Before you get into any conflict, ask yourself “What is my outcome?”

The last time I had a serious problem with Teh Crazy was some years ago. My team had a look at their finances to consider whether or not there was any chance of getting a return on a lawsuit for libel, slander, breach of contract, breach of confidentiality, and all that. 

Teh Crazy was $300,000 in debt to their printer alone. I have no idea where their finances stand now, but in the 1990’s, they weren’t in great shape.

Anyway…

Never sign a confidentiality agreement with Teh Crazy. In Crazy Land, they will expect you to fulfill the terms of every agreement (especially the confidentiality clause) no matter how much Teh Crazy lies, cheats, or steals, even if the US Supreme Court informs them that slavery is dead, and copyright squatting does not make them a creator. That said, my lawyer advises me to take the high road with them, and that is easy enough, for they are so low. 

Five years after we last did battle with lawyers, Teh Crazy boss asked me out to dinner (!?!?!?!) 

Damn crazy.

There is absolutely no reason a creator needs to sign a standard publishing agreement which contains a confidentiality clause that covers anything but trade secrets. Trade secrets are things like plot points, marketing plans, etc. You shouldn’t blab about those whether you sign a confidentiality agreement or not. It’s just bad form.

Any publisher who wants you to sign a blanket confidentiality clause should be avoided at all costs. This publisher is attempting to silence you in advance of their screwing you over in future.

Some publishers will attempt to silence you with threats of lawsuits if you inform others of failure to pay or to fulfill the terms of your agreement. Don’t be intimidated. If they owe you $1500, and they claim they are going to sue you for talking about it…dude. 

Clue stick…beat yourself with it. 

No publisher files suit across state lines over $1500. Seriously, that’s daffy.

While it may not be worth your time to chase after and sue Teh Crazy yourself, don’t be afraid of coming right out and telling others Teh Crazy is Teh Crazy. Let others know what landmines to avoid. You may save another creator’s career.

And for God’s sake, stop worrying about being blacklisted. If anyone would have been blacklisted for squealing about publisher naughtiness, that would be me. And I’ve got more work than I can handle.

There is no blacklist. There is no secret cabal. This industry will hire drug addicts and wife beaters, and creepy men who stalk underage girls at conventions. They are not going to avoid you because you squealed on Teh Crazy. All they want from you is the money you can make for them.

Stop being scared. You have nothing to fear but some flabby guy on the cusp of senior citizenship who is still fuming because he did not get picked for volleyball in high school. 

You’re not dealing with Alexander the Great. These people do not command armies, control nations, or even build roads. They take stuff you make up, print it on paper, and put it in stores. Big deal. 

If they deal with you fairly, they deserve your respect. If they don’t deal with you fairly, they are not worthy of your fear. The only power they have over you is between your ears, and that is territory you cede yourself.

Anyway, I leave you with this spin on the cosmic wheel:

Because it’s a small world after all, the author who decided to dump my new publisher – from whence came the lawsuit over the definition of reprint edition – was also an ex-publisher of mine. If my Teh Crazy had not sued Donning, Donning would not have approached me about getting people to define reprint for them. 

When I went into that deposition years later armed with reprint edition info, Teh Crazy’s lawsuit gave us the ammo we needed to fight Donning.

Wait! Teh Crazy made my happy ending possible? 

Not on purpose! 

In the end, I earned three times what I would have earned from both publishers in the first place.

Strange how things come around, innit?

Outside of this odd circle of people and circumstances, I have never even come close to being in another lawsuit. 

So, here’s a final lesson, one you probably already know:

That which does not kill you only makes you stronger.

Sometimes. Sometimes it just doesn’t kill you.

But I’m stronger.

And that’s good enough for now.