MY SECOND PUBLISHER, EMI, regretted
signing me as a staff writer. I know this because when they cancelled my
contract, threatened to rip me off for 150K, bankrupt me legally in New York,
and then tried to comfort me with the fact that it "wasn't
personal, just business”, I made them a rather unpleasant offer they
found rather difficult to get past somehow.
I STOOD UP, and in disbelief of what I'd just heard, looked in the faces of my soon to be
"former publishers" and told them very matter of factly, how this was fixin’ to go down. It
would go down the same way it would go down back home in Louisiana.
“QUITE SIMPLY, I was literally, and
CERTAINLY going to burn somebody's fucking house down
over this. And when I got out of prison for that one? Watch your ass! Who's
gonna be next? And in the middle of a night when you startle awake, and think you hear a noise? I want you to
remember . . . "It's nothing personal, just business“
“AND by the way . . . if you don't
think I'm crazy enough to do it . . . you ask ANYbody!”
I TOSSED them my keys across their
desk and walked out giving the door a good ole “fuck you!" country slam. The
visitors in the lobby made not a hush as I slammed the second set of doors as I
exited the building.
NEXT MORNING, THE COPIER was
spitting out copies of my brand new royalty assignment when I came in to clean
out my desk, (and steal all the office
supplies I could cram in my briefcase), the usual snappy morning banter, replaced by hushed whispering
tones, and deflected glances.
IT seems, they had a change of
heart overnight, wanted to do what was fair & all and was wondering if we
could all chill, and go away happy . . . you know, since we ARE all old friends
here RIGHT? (eyebrows all up in a pregnant
nod)
MY ROYALTIES were eventually mailed
to my house, not theirs… nobody got hurt, and I didn't have to watch their
houses and my future go up in flames.
SOMETIMES, a cool head, and finesse . . . are the BEST negotiating tools.
