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| What Happened? |
e-mail to a friend in need
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Predicament of the ... Past Two Years In which Breakup Girl addresses the situation that has, over the last two years, brought her the most (a) grief, (b) disbelief that it is happening to her, and (c) relief that she can finally tell a veiled version of her own bitter breakup. Dear Breakup Girl, A couple of years ago I fell hard for a really hot young company. Boy, did this outfit pitch some woo. Came on real strong, said we'd be perfect together. I finally gave in -- actually, moved in. There seemed to be real passion, real devotion, real promise of an amazing future together. In many ways, it was everything I'd been waiting for. For a while everything was great. I invested everything in this relationship, worked harder than I ever had to make it last. But then -- hmm, heard this one before? -- things changed. The relationship didn't just lose steam; it became destructive. Bottom line: It was not the company I thought -- or they said -- it was. Sure enough, I was dumped. It was not a clean break, BG. When I left, they kept my stuff. It's called "intellectual" property, but this -- my work of many years -- belonged to my soul. It was theirs on paper, as I'd sold it to them because of the amazing things they'd said we'd be doing together. But with me gone, the company had no intention of using it. While it was worthless to them, it was everything to me. Yet there it sat, crammed in a drawer sealed with red tape, accessible to no one. They also stiffed me on my salary. When I started talking legal action, they said, "How about we return your stuff instead?" I ultimately decided it made sense financially and emotionally to cut my losses and get back what mattered most. I agreed. Well, BG, they drew up the papers...and dropped the ball. They didn't finalize their own agreement, didn't make good on their own offer. For no reason. And as time passed, they lost much of what they had promised to give back. That's what happens when you leave intellectual property just lying around. More lawyers, more wrangling, blah blah blah. Then finally -- more than two years later -- we settled. All told, I spent as much as they owed me in the first place to get back a fraction of what they'd promised. All that money, all that pain. Was jumping in selling out? Did I fight hard enough for my creation and beliefs? Should I have up and sued? Or should I have spared myself and walked away sooner? I mean, BG, aren't you all about cutting your losses, letting go, moving on, thinkin' positive, chalking it up -- if wearily -- to Life Experience? And if it is about Life Experience, how do I keep this one from making me timid and livid and bitter? I know they say "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger," but this whole thing was so heinous that sometimes I think dammit, I'd rather be weaker. Help me out, BG. How do I move on? What can I, sigh, Learn From All This? -- Pink-Slipped, Red-Faced, and Blue
Wow, that company does sound hot. Honestly, I would have
done the same thing. And hey, you went with it. On the
one hand, "just going with it" can be passive, or precipitate; on the other,
not going with it can be playing safe, living small. Sounds like you did none
of the above. Of course, you were risking more
than your feelings -- which, as we all know, is plenty. You also sold your
stuff, slash, soul. Now, from what I understand about the entertainment
business -- which can be as treacherous as any villain on whom I have opened up a can of
whup-ass -- you had no choice. That is how things work. Selling your
creative work is how you earn money from it. And -- let's not be all arty
and precious about it -- you deserve to do that. Or, if you do want to be
all arty and precious about it, when you sell your creations, more people get
to enjoy them, hooray! I'd call that selling up. About the legal mess.Yes, one
should always take the high road. But not all high roads lead away.
Some, verily, lead right into the fray. Taking the
high road should never be confused with taking things lying down. So what if you had tried to sue their slacks off?
Well, that wouldn't sound to me like wreaking cheesy revenge;
that would sound to me like seeking justice. But should you have sued? Not necessarily. BG has dated enough
lawyers to know that lawsuits are worse than breakups. Should you have walked away? Pink, could you have? Hell, no. So. While the middle path was a mess,
it seems you followed it with your compass pointed toward What Makes Sense. That
makes perfect sense to me. Where do you go from here? Golly,
Pink, anywhere you want. Seriously. Not because I am about to say a damn thing
about "lemonade." I know the world looks different to you now, and "thinking
positive" cannot bring back the world where all
people say what they mean and do what they say. But I dare say that this world, the
one you're limping into bruised and sore, has many more shades, much more
texture than your old one. Not all of it pretty and fluffy and Pat the Bunny, I
know. But no need to be bitter! Waiting for people, or the universe, to fail
you is not helpful. But realizing that sometimes they do fail you is quite
helpful -- and it's what makes it so moving when they come through. You can
go around squinting and guarded...or you can go around knowing, prepared, seeing
-- in full, splendidly variegated, color. My worst, most disillusioning experiences,
Pink, have served to remind me that yeah, the world is a dangerous place. Full
of people who will totally bail me out. And boy, do I feel safer knowing
that. Not to mention even more excited to be here. 'Cause being safer -- like,
say, wearing full hockey equipment
-- means being ready to get back out and play. Hard. On a team, even. See you there. Love, |
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