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I'm not exactly running a Fortune 500 business here. Most people who publish DIY (do-it-yourself) zines or books or what have you do so out of a desire to be heard and a love of writing, or similarly penniless philosophies. No one does it to get rich, and frequently we do stupid things like give away sample copies and underprice our issues, or make bad deals with distributors just to get our words into as many hands as possible. Even with such selfless, profitless efforts it's rare that a zine rises above a few dozen in circulation, and the heavy hitters often move a few hundred issues, with some exceptions. Zine publishers and DIYers in general just aren't cutthroat business people, although many of us are Capitalists of some sort. I sure am. I just realize that while it would be nice to get paid, it's nicer to be read. So you can imagine that on those glorious days when there actually is some sort of payment in the ole PO box, it's a happy day in Swineland. When some bookstore sends me a check for $10 because they sold two copies of The Freaks are Winning or a few zines, I'm fucking overjoyed. I'm equally overjoyed when someone sends me a few bucks for issues of The Inner Swine, even when they send a personal check or postal money order. Like all DIY people, I prefer cash, because cash is still king: it's untraceable, accepted everywhere, and you don't need any kind of special status or license to use it. Plus, you can't get it wrong. Money Orders are okay except of course they require a little more effort to convert into cash. Personal checks suck, because there's always the fear of getting conned and having it bounce and then you've got a mess. People sometimes don't like to deal with cash because it's also insecure in the sense that it's easy to steal and impossible to trace, so I could just pocket their cash and forget to send them anything. Beggars can't be choosers, and until I'm willing to pay through the nose for credit card processing, this is what I have.
This occurs in three basic forms: checks/money orders made out to The Inner Swine, checks/money orders made out to my publisher, Creative Arts Book Company but using my address, and non-postal money orders of any kind or configuration. If you can't take the time to figure out how exactly I'm going to be able to access the money you want to send me, then don't even waste the goddamn stamp you're going to use to send me your useless pieces of paper. I know that it's easy to make assumptions, but let's face it, it says very clearly on the web site and in the zine that "You can send a check made out to Jeff Somers". How you read that and then send me a check made out to anything or anyone else, I'll never know. Unless you skipped third grade and have a childlike belief that checks are magical things that can be cashed by anyone with a vague resemblance to what you write on them, in which case I wonder why you don't make the check out to ‘nice zine guy' and hope for the best. For god's sake, people, pay me in booze. When I get these useless slips of paper, I don't do anything about it. I just send them whatever it is they bought and file the physical evidence of their tortured desire to exert some pecuniary authority in the world. If it's a check, I might consider suggesting that they send me a new one–but usually only when it's a business. If it's a money order that's either made out to the wrong person or address, it's useless, and if it's a money order from some bizarre company I've never heard of, it's probably useless, in my experience, even if it's made out correctly, because I have spent a large amount of time in my life trying in vain to get non-postal money orders cashed. It's impossible, I think. But in those situations I figure the person has already lost that money, so I just send them their goods and have done with it. Screw it. Life's too short to go around chasing after a few bucks here and there, even if that's exactly how a lot of rich people got that way. I just swallow my rage at people who can't read and move on. For god's sake, people, pay me in booze. Sometimes, though, I get such a bizarre combination of gaffes that I can't resist sending a note back gleefully rubbing in the person's stupidity–it's one of the few joys I have left, you see. When people send me a check or money order made out to an intriguing combination of names and addresses, drawing from me, my publisher, and, in some cases, whispers from their inner demons, I get a real prize in the mail–a check or money order that is simultaneously uncashable by three different people/organizations! The thrill of finding one of these in my PO box is often too much for little old me, and I swoon. Ah, fuck it. It's just me and rock and roll, now. Send me your complaints and I will ignore them. Until next time, I remain Jeff |
December 17, 2002
It would all be fine, except some people have difficulty comprehending facts, and end up sending me money I can't fucking use. I sometimes wonder when the day will come when I'll open an envelope and find nothing but interesting stones, pocket lint, and Monopoly Money.