I used to be that guy: the guy who fumed about blog mills paying $1 for 500 – 1,000 word articles and people posting “Writer Wanted! Payment: Possible Exposure” ads on Craigslist. The mere thought of someone not paying writers at all, or “what they’re worth,” got to me…to the point I found myself almost spending more time worked up about the thought of what was happening than actually writing at times.
Don’t get me wrong: I think it’s great when writers are paid what they’re worth. At the same time, I eventually came to realize that it was silly to get bent out of shape because two people — even if one side was deemed predatory — chose to enter into an agreement. The argument could be made that it “cheapened” pay for all writers, and there’s evidence to even back that up, but it’s still not my business if two people choose to do business together…even if it’s a deal I’d pass by for so many reasons. (The least of which is why get worked up about a writing gig you wouldn’t take, even if it paid better?)
Writing for Free
I’m making no money writing this entry. Blog entries are something I write on Saturday or Sunday mornings after attending to other writing (fiction), if I have the time. I occasionally find time during the week to knock out a blog entry or two (sometimes three or four), but blogging is something I now tend to do on Saturday or Sunday.
I write blog entries, journal entries, and updates for Men in Gorilla Suits with no monetary compensation. One could say, “Well, it’s still content marketing for Hell Comes with Wood Paneled Doors and other things you’re doing,” but entries, here, really don’t result in sales there. I write entries here — for free — because I like to force myself to see where I stand on issues about writing that are important to me. Over time, I can see where I’ve changed.
As I mentioned above, I used to be the guy who lost it at the thought of someone paying some writer in another country pennies on the dollar to write articles. Then one day I thought, “If that guy in India can pay a bill or two with what they’re making in a cheap deal, who am I to say it shouldn’t happen? Why would I want that crap gig to begin with, even if it paid well?”
Looking at it like that, I felt a lot more free to write what I wanted to write.
Writing Free[ly]
Something happened when I gave up chasing paying writing gigs: my fiction got a lot better.
Don’t get me wrong, I still think about writing travel articles and other things for [sometimes decent] pay, but when I realized things were changing and there was nothing I could do about those changes, I became a much happier writer. (I can’t stop piracy or people writing for next to nothing, so why let it stress me out?)
If I was going to be writing “for exposure,” then, dammit, I’d invest only in myself by writing only what I wanted.
No more would I comb through publications thinking about angles for article pitches when what I really wanted to be doing was writing another novel. Whether it sold or not wouldn’t matter — what would matter is writing the thing I wanted to write more than any other thing in the world at that time. I looked at artist friends working on licensed properties to pay their bills and how much they wanted to really be doing their own thing. Why would I want to become the writer version of that: so busy working overtime on other people’s writing than my own?
As hokey as it might sound, this new way of looking at writing reminded me of the opening lyrics to 311’s “All Mixed Up” (video at the end of the post):
You’ve got to trust your instinct
And let go of regret
You’ve got to bet on yourself now, Star
‘Cause that’s your best bet
Betting on Yourself
It would be great if writing paid what it once did and that writers weren’t expected to do so much promotion and this and that and all those things people talk about when they talk about “the good old days.”
Thing is, the “good old days” are long gone — publications, newspapers, and other places that once took writing are dying. It’s like sharks in a small tank realizing the food supply is about to run out and panicking, fighting for what remains out of desperation.
Looking at it like that, why wouldn’t I just enjoy the work for the sake of the work and see what happens with the things I finish? I will always try to do the most I can with the writing I want to do, but I don’t see a day I ever write out of desperation again.
These days, I’ve vowed to only write with confidence and bet on myself.
It does bother me slightly that writing is something that’s becoming less and less valuable, but it evens out — people who want to pay a dollar for 1,000 words really get what they pay for. Quality writing still sells to the right people, and if you don’t want to work for next to nothing, don’t. Do your own thing. See if that sells.
It almost bothers me in an academic way — I don’t like that it happens, but it doesn’t make me angry enough to actually care. I’ll just go tell my little stories and kind of ignore the content mills.
Shawn: It used to really bother me, people taking free gigs for exposure or next-to-nothing pay for work that traditionally paid a lot more. I know there has been a stink about people not being compensated for writing at The Huffington Post and another rage-fest about a blog at The Atlantic not compensating more than exposure.
For some, that exposure to millions of potential readers may end up being worth more to some writers than $100 – $500 for a blog entry that people deem a “fair” rate. If that exposure gets people going to their site and checking out (and buying) what they are doing, the payoff in many ways can be greater. (Either in new fans, or people buying what the writer has available.)
I also know there’s the argument that even if thousands of people view the blog entry a writer did for free that very few readers will actually go to the writer’s site. And then, even fewer will actually buy what the writer may have available. It’s probably even a valid argument, but to me the real argument is this: do I have a right to tell others what to do? And I don’t. If a guy in the US wants to pay a woman in India $25 for 100 blog entries and the two agree on it, that’s not my business. It would be nice if rates for writers stayed the same as they once were (adjusted for inflation, even), but the reality is there’s a lot of competition out there and to try stopping it is impossible. (And, I’d argue, even morally wrong.)
I’ve heard some strong mid-list writers I’ve admired say that the industry needs to put limits on how much gets published. One argued that it was essential to protect the industry and the written word, but what she was really saying was, “With less competition, I make more money.” (This particular writer is no literary force to be reckoned with; she’s a good and fun storyteller, but hardly doing anything to broaden the state of literature in the world.)
The same writers are often critics of other industries and their tactics to stifle competition, so it’s strange to see them doing the very thing they speak out against in some cases. Like you, on one level it will always bother me because I believe good writing is worth paying for, but if people stop reading or other writers are willing to write for less, I can’t force people to pick up a book or for somebody to pay writers more if they can find writers who will write for less. (Often in other countries where the money goes further and actually might give somebody a chance to end up with a better gig than working a crappier job.)
If only three people read what I write, I’d still do it. We’d all love to make a living telling our stories, but it’s always been a struggle — there have always been great writers who didn’t make it, I’m sure. Like you, I believe doing something more personal is the way to go. Any writer can pull off a 100-word blog entry about something they don’t really care about, and they will mostly sound the same. But when you write a novel, there’s a better chance at standing out for doing something only you might be able to do. There are still people writing long-form non-fiction who are great and make a comfortable living writing.
I’d love to pay the bills and have security for life all from telling my stories, but if it doesn’t happen, I can’t be mad at content mills and people writing vampire romances. I think we’d both argue that at least with vampire romances, they are people who probably wouldn’t read what we do anyway, or even that with people getting back into reading that some of it may spill over to other genres.
Well, I got paid for my last published piece. 15 cents! But it was a buffalo nickel and a liberty dime.
I pretty much agree with your take on the state of the writing industry. There’s no sense lamenting the changes in publishing, promotion, and payments. If writing is what you love, then write.
That’s a cute song, too. Hadn’t heard that before.
Paul: See? I’d rather have payment like that than $15 or $25. In its own weird way, that’s cool.
CMS: I can definitely feel for those who made a living in the mid list and saw it drop off in recent years (for a variety of reasons). It has to sting. But many people seem to be the person on the sinking ship yelling about it all instead of trying something to save themselves when it’s clear the ship is going down. And…maybe everyone dies, but at least those trying to build their own life boats have a shot.
This is an interesting read: http://www.mediabistro.com/galleycat/the-financial-reality-of-a-genre-novelist_b64568 When looking at the reality of writing fiction, it’s not so hard to just do it for love and publish electronically on your own. Or be set on having a day job.
Christopher: A lot of math in that article. 🙂 All the more reason for me to focus on the actual writing.