Author’s Note: I just realized this is probably horribly confusing to people who did not follow me from Rudius, as I have kind of constructed a new readership. Here are the details. I used to work for a company called Rudius Media, and wrote for a site called DaddyDontHitMe where I posted funny stories from my childhood. The company’s owner was named Tucker Max. I quit writing there a year ago.
Update on account of the Gakwer Link: I wrote this to be polite (I figured even assholes deserve second chances) so I could put it behind me and stop being asked questions about it, before several things happened which made me not want to be polite anymore. Okay, that kind of sounded like Jack Dalton in Road House, but its more or less why I came forward. Blech… that really was corny. I apologize.
It’s been a year since my last update on DaddyDontHitMe, and I know a lot of my long time readers have been quietly wondering what happened between me and Rudius Media. Since I feel enough time has passed that I can be objective about it, I might as well spill. It’s not that interesting a story so there’s no real reason to shut up about it. I can almost promise you’ll be disappointed.
Basically:
I was a moron.
Before Going On:
I do not know why the other writers on DaddyDontHitMe chose to stop writing. I heard one was having remorse over discussing their family in a public forum, and I think that contributed to their choice. Other than that, I have no idea.
The other writers and I were never really in strong contact with one another, and when they left I was never even told they were officially gone. My personal feeling was that if they left it should have been announced so people weren’t left wondering, but I wasn’t in charge of that.
Some readers assumed I entered into some Machiavellian plot to make myself the sole author on the site, but I promise that was not the case. The most Machiavellian thing I have ever done in my life is when I let Jessie Hovig take the fall for me farting in class in the third grade. I still think about it sometimes… and Jessie if you ever read this, I am sorry.
Reasons I was a Moron:
I was a moron for having the expectations that I did. I figured I could make a few grand a year (I didn’t think two grand was that unreasonable an expectation) for what I was putting out, and that after a year or two I could get a book deal. The problems basically began and ended with communication.
1. At the end of the first pay period, I didn’t get a check. I had been writing for two and a half months, and when I asked what was up it was explained to me that while they had assumed I was never going to be paid, they would be happy to pay me retroactive to day one at the end of the next pay schedule since I didn’t quite have a full three months in.
That probably should have sent up some red flags, but I posted on the Rudius Media Messageboard quite a bit, and I knew the people I was working for relatively well even if we had never met. So, I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Plus, it was a start-up so mistakes get made often.
2. Three months later, still no check. I write polite e-mail to my editor (who by the way, is a tremendous guy and in no way accountable for my departure). He doesn’t know, but promises to pass it on next time they all have a meeting. I wait for about two weeks. I send another e-mail, telling him I really need to know what’s going on. He still doesn’t know. Again, not his fault.
3. I wait another week, and my check shows up, about a month late by this time, meaning I’ve been employed by Rudius for seven months now and this is the first payment I have received.
The pay is shockingly low… and I know how much writers usually make.
I’ve told people in private e-mails the amount if I thought it would be of some use to them in a professional capacity, or if I knew them well enough, and once when I was just really pissed off about it. Anyhow, think of a very very very low number. Then divide it in half. That’s about how much I got paid. Odds are, you may still be thinking of too high a number.
4. I go for a long walk. I wait for two days. Then I write an e-mail to Tucker Max, politely but firmly asking what happened. I send it to a friend to make sure I do not sound too angry. I send it on when I’m assured it’s not pissed off.
I basically say that while if someone had explained to me at the very beginning I would be effectively writing for zero money, I would have been fine with this turn of events, I felt I deserved some kind of explanation. Rudius marketed itself as a very successful network of sites, I was one of the more popular people on that network, how could I be performing so poorly?
Again, very very very poorly.
5. I get an e-mail back from Tucker saying basically (it got forwarded to something like six other people, and was answered within thirty minutes which I thought was kind of classless), I should have had knee-trembling gratitude to even be associated with the Rudius brand, how dare I be arrogant enough to speak to him that way, and I would be left as the nothing I was found.
I think I made myself some microwave burritos after that and read a Stephen King novel. I pretty much knew where all the chips were going to fall at that point, so I was more or less just going through the motions.
6. I write a letter to my editor and several other members of the Rudius staff telling them how grateful I was for the help they gave, and that it was unfortunate I would no longer be working with them.
I kind of got the sense that Tucker wanted me to beg to get my site back in an e-mail I got from one of the Rudius staff, but as there was a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening I politely replied that while I understood the financial realities, and would have been fine with them had they been explained when I first started, I did not feel I could continue on with Rudius. Then I thanked that person for the time they had spent helping me.
I love writing. It’s what I have wanted to do since I could make words. I left because of the lack of communication. Nothing more to it, really.
FAQ:
Do I ever regret not working for Rudius anymore?
There was really only one time I regretted it, and that was when my sister got married. It happened about two months after I left, most of my audience had no idea where I was, and I really really wish I had been able to get a good ten or twenty of my readers to that hell fest.
Aside from wishing I had all of my audience at my disposal to make that occasion even more ludicrous than it was, no I have no regrets.
Am I mad?
I was for about two or three weeks, and only in an off hand kind of way. I had bigger problems to deal with than sitting in my room and glowering over internet drama. My sister’s step-daughter (whom she bought from her drug addict mother) started living with us, and I wound up taking care of her and trying to make sure she turned out all right after going through that kind of ordeal.
Hey, I wasn’t invited to write for a site about childhood trauma because I don’t have a lot of bullshit dealt to me by my relatives. Needless to say, I have more pressing problems then mulling over angry e-mails.
In short, I was pissed off. Then, I got over it.
Why didn’t anyone ever say that you left?
My guess is that it’s the atmosphere among the Rudius people. For some reason it’s perceived as very shameful if someone leaves. I’ve seen a couple of times when someone leaves that there’s a kind of Amish type shunning that comes into play where no one will ever address that the person is gone. Personally, I think that just makes something that is small and trivial turn into something mysterious and cult-seeming.
Have you ever been hired somewhere and had all of your co-workers refuse to mention the person that had your job before you did? No. Because that would be creepy. Unless you work for the CIA, in which case it’s totally understandable.
I had professional differences with the company, and now I blog somewhere else. So. Fucking. What?
I don’t know this for certain, you’d have to ask them, but it’s probably more or less accurate. If I were in charge I’d rather have people know than resort to gossipy speculation, but I’m not, so it is what it is.
Is Tucker Max an asshole?
I don’t know him other than from a very few e-mails. However, when a guy describes himself as a narcissistic, self-promoting asshole what do you expect?
My experience with him indicates that he’s an asshole asshole, not a Han-Solo/Charming Guy asshole. But again, I don’t know him well enough. He may just have been exceptionally dickish to me, or it may have been the standard case.
I don’t know him.
What about everyone else?
Nils Parker, Erin Tyler, Donika Miller, Luke Heidelberger, and Ben Corman were all very nice people. If I were running some kind of business I would hire any one of them. The communication problems seemed to result from the patriarchal structure of the company. As far as I can tell, one person had all the authority and that always fucks things up for the underlings.
The nicest person to me personally was fellow writer Mark Ebner. Although I of course reciprocated by not talking to him, as direct communication with nice professional people tends to make me tongue-tied and extremely uncomfortable. But then again, if I were a socially competent person would I be able to imitate Yoda, Golem, and Chewbacca? I think it’s a fair trade off. The ability to imitate creatures that don’t exist is vastly more important than social networking.
You know what? I think I’ll add Mark to my blogroll, because that’s just how I roll. He really was nice to me when he had no reason to be and that kind of goodness deserves recognition (in the form of a shockingly low number of hits.)
What about other writers who left?
I know three other writers from Rudius who were fired/quit, and the problems all get back down to communication. No one they spoke to had any authority to answer any questions, and it screwed up their whole relationship.
One of the writers I spoke to after I left is a professionally published author, and I felt relieved that his interpretation was the same as mine. Even though it has about dick effect on the outcome it’s always best to be embarrassed in a large group of people than individually.
Would I recommend working for Rudius to anyone else?
It depends on what you want. If you want any kind of money, even a pittance, do not. Rudius is not there for you to make money.
If you want an audience of a couple thousand people go for it, but if you want to write professionally I wouldn’t stick with it long term. Writing for an editor for a year or two can be very beneficial to you in terms of professional experience, but by the time you write a book you should go ahead and make your own personal blog and promote on there.
It’s not like being in someone’s blogroll gives you carte blanche on their audience. People have specific tastes, the internet is huge bordering on infinite, and there’s no reason readers need to stick within one small group of blogs so they won’t. Some of the audience will click on you, some people will like it, but most people won’t. If you retain even 20% of the people that click on you as lifetime readers, you are not only kicking ass, you’re setting records.
Maybe if they get some kind of mainstream success it will be worth it for the promotion. I can’t see the future, so you’ll have to decide that for yourself.
Was I banned from the messageboard?
I have no idea. I felt it would be better if I just never logged back on, so I never did. A lot of the people I used to talk to were on another messageboard anyway so I went there. It wasn’t a really big deal to me. I just like a place to tell jokes that aren’t in story context.
I know the Amish shunning attitude kind of comes into play over it… but I’m not Amish so I don’t care. I believe in the supremacy of laughter. My god is made of chuckles.
Do I secretly sacrifice animals to pagan statues in hopes that I will destroy all the future success of anyone at Rudius Media?
I’ve always prided myself that my tastes have nothing to do with how I feel about someone personally, so no.
I know Tucker’s making a movie. I have some serious doubts about his ability to turn funny vignettes into a cohesive story, but I don’t pray for his downfall. I mean, a movie has hundreds of people involved. I’m not going to wish all of them ill because one guy is kind of a dick. And even if I resorted to that kind of pettiness, all it would do is take up my time. In fact, I wish them well. It’s what the chuckle god would want.
I do get occasional e-mails from people who want to tell me all their horrible Tucker Max/Rudius secrets because they see me as someone who can verify or deny them. By and large I don’t reply because… well because I don’t care. If I can manage not to care, you should be able to do the same.
I’d much rather spend my time speculating about what an intelligent macaw would do with its day. This may not work for you, but I would suggest finding something that does and stick with that.
Why didn’t you write about this before?
I consider myself a humorist. I prefer to write things that make people laugh. Writing about how I signed up to work for a company where I was not stylistically compatible with the owner is not very funny. In fact, it’s quite dry.
I have the kind of social outlook that if people aren’t laughing, they’re pissed off. I try to make people laugh, not go ballistic and freak out. As my stoner guidance counselor in high school once secretly confided to me: “Shit’s all right, you know?”
Comment Policy:
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