Street-Smart But Not Scam-Proof
by Marie Stone
(reprinted by permission)
I like to think of myself as sophisticated and --
snap snap --
street-smart. I can recognize an illegitimate poetry
contest just by the font and layout of the solicitation letter. With
the agility of a contestant ringing in on
Jeopardy, I can identify a telemarketing call from the background din
of the call center, and hang up before the
telemarketer issues a word. When I'm maneuvering city streets I wear
sensible shoes, walk with intention, clutch
my purse under my arm, and look straight ahead. This is my way of
cautioning any would-be predator not to mess
with me.
Yet, despite these highly evolved survival skills, I've recently
discovered that I'm not fully scam-proof. And,
in part, I blame the recent economic downturn and the resulting
belly-up of many companies who, this time last
year, were paying me good money for content.
You see, I'm a freelance writer who is feeling the economic pinch. And,
with the increasing desperation of a sexually
motivated barfly after last call, the tighter the market gets, the less
discriminate I've become about the types
of jobs I'll consider, and the amount of money I'll accept. I know I'm
not alone. Yesterday a freelancer friend
of mine accepted an assignment that pays less than one-half her usual
rate. "Just a month ago," she said,
"I wouldn't have considered this job." But, you see, April 15 came and
went, as did our fat checks to
the government, and then our rainy day money and slush funds rapidly
evaporated. (Last call, anyone?)
So, it was with this degree of financial destitution that I recently
read this job ad:
We are looking for proofreading
editors for our fiction
department. Positions require the applicant to complete a simple
editing test, and we pay $11.75 per script page (about 600 words). We
currently have four positions to fill. Last year we published over 300
titles. This job is an excellent opportunity for first time writers to
get their foot in the door. Last year three of our editors were
published. We send work on disk via email, therefore proofreading
editors can work at home. For further information, contact us.
The "contact us" was an email link to an AOL
account.
You know the old saying, if it walks like a duck, talks like a duck,
[fill in other verbs] like a duck, it is a
duck? Well, I must've forgotten that one, or my blinders were on, or
something. And, although it tweaks my pride
to admit I fell for this charade, I feel it's my duty to share my
experience with my fellow freelancers in the
hopes that some of you may be spared a similar, humbling, time-wasting
experience.
So, that said, I hang my head in my hands and, with the inflection of
the unmasked villain at the conclusion of
a Scooby-Doo episode, I confess to you, "Yes, yes, I did it. I answered
the ad and I took the proofreading
test, too!"
It actually turned out to be more like a high-level editing request
than a proofreading test. The original prose
was abysmal, peppered with typos, misspellings, grammatical errors, and
logic flaws. I applied my usual magic and
spun sentences like, "As the elevator door shut and he was inside
Monsignor couldnt help but feel a sense
of total enclosure. He was now traveling up to what for all intents and
purposes was a haunted apartement, in a
haunted building," [sic] into smooth, error-free gold. I spent three
hours on that sucker... er, I mean I'm
a sucker and I spent three hours editing that prose.
The result? After I submitted my edited test, the publisher emailed me
a link to a Web site advertising the soon-to-be-released
book from which the test derived. Then, I never heard from the
publisher again, not even after sending several
courteous follow-up emails. I compared notes with other freelancers who
responded to this ad, and it turned out
we all edited different sections of this book. One freelancer reported
calling the telephone number of the "publisher"
listed on the Web site and -- surprise -- the author of the chapters we
edited answered the phone. Though we can't
be sure, we suspect he concocted this scheme to have his manuscript
professionally edited for free.
So, my kindred self-employed artisans, if you, too, are feeling the
economic squeeze and you find yourself considering
freelance opportunities you would've turned your nose up at a mere few
months ago, it may be time to brush up on
your scam-detection skills. The cardinal rule, the one I seemed to have
forgotten, but have been so rudely reminded
of, is: if it sounds too good to be true, it usually is!
Below are some additional articles and links I found that may help you
hone your scam-busting savvy. Good luck!
* * *
Marie Stone is a writer, editor, and interactive
producer who
specializes in transforming technical language
and concepts, such as medical terminology, into engaging,
easy-to-read-and-understand content. Since 1996, she's
held top-level editorial positions at a number of Web and technology
companies, including adam.com, Wellsource,
and Salu.net. From 1998 to 1999, she developed a line of interactive
health assessments that appeared on the American
Medical Association Web site. Her work has also been published on
CNN.com, europeCNN.com, MSN.com, WebMD, Salu.net,
WellMed.com, adam.com, HealthAnswers.com, VisionSite.com, Blue Cross
Blue Shield of Colorado's Web site, eHealthInsurance.com,
and others. Ms. Stone holds a Master of Fine Arts degree in creative
writing from The American University. Before
entering the field of new media, she was an English instructor at
Cornish College of the Arts in Seattle, Washington.
Copyright 2001 by Marie Stone
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