Los Angeles, CA
I hate invoicing clients. I like getting paid, but invoices are a pain in the ass. Well, that's not true. Invoices should give me erections because it means I'm getting paid for doing something I enjoy, which is writing. Every invoice means I'm still living the dream, despite the drastic circumstances that obliterated the freelance field (online poker and poker media) in which I flourished the last six years.
So, invoices don't actually cause physical pain, but I often cringe at the emails I must send along with the invoices. Those two or three sentence emails cause me more stress and pain that writing assignments that are 2k and 3k words in length. I have zero confidence in email writing these days. I'm off my game! I blame my CrackBerry because it caused me to go Hemingway-esque and write short, powerful responses. But CrackBerry also makes me lazy because I'll read emails but forget to answer them.
Anyway, with invoice emails, I never know if I'm saying too much.... or too little... or I'm worried that I'm not acting grateful enough without sounding like a dubious sycophant of the Eddie Haskell variety... then again, sometimes I opt for standard business professionalism, but as a writer those words sound so cold and insincere.... and yes I over-think this way too much. It's just one fucking email that no one ever reads, because it's gets forwarded to the accounting office, where it eventually gets deleted.
Whenever I get stuck or in a rut with writing, I just shoot from the hip, which in modern day writer's terms translates into... I write from the gut. The gut speaks the truth.
Luckily, I have an editor at Bluff Magazine who has a sense of humour. Lance is from Canada -- now you get the U in humour, eh? As far as I can tell, he likes my gut.
Here's an excerpt of the last email I submitted to Lance...
Please be advised with accelerating world doomsday events and with Black Friday fallout, I have drastically increased my daily consumption rate of liquor. A swift, timely, payment from the Bluff Media coffers will do wonders to chronically depressed writers like myself and replenish my rum fund which allows me to tune out the misery around us all...one cocktail at a time.Yes, I just tasked Bluff Magazine to pay me as fast as possible so I can stay drunk for the impending apocalypse. May God bless them for a speedy execution of my invoice!
Thank you for your help with quelling my inner pain.