There is an editor’s letter in the current Poets and Writers Magazine in which the editor takes issue with the idea that it makes a difference whether you write for money. He seems to think that there is such a thing as writing for writing’s sake. I know what he means but I wonder. I wonder if he realizes that the reason he can afford to entertain the notion of not writing for money is because he himself is writing for money. I wonder if he sees this — that writing not for money is a romantic notion.
To me, writing not for money is a privilege and a romantic notion. I don’t mean that one ought not write simply for the joy of it. But at some point, if one is writing for publication, economics becomes a central issue. It is a material issue. Because if your money is not coming from writing then it is either coming from a store of money that has passed on to you or been given to you in some way, which means that you view the world in a certain way, or it is coming from an occupation that drains you of resources that would otherwise be devoted to your writing, and deprives you of the time you need to fully do your job as a writer.
So I think we would all be better served by talking openly about the economic challenges of being a writer, and about the rewards we receive.
I have always tried to make my living as a writer. I tried doing other things and they took too much out of me. That is why I didn’t have children. I could not see how I could do that and still devote every waking hour to writing and reading and getting better at doing this craft.
So now I am at a crossroads. I would love to write the column as I was before. But writing it for a job, like playing for a team, makes a difference. I do not want to shortchange people. I do not want to do second-rate work. If I do it, I want to do it right.
Tomorrow: If I had enough faith, would I just keep doing it regardless?
I used to teach a foundation-level design course for art school students who plan to continue on in fine art, craft, illustration, or design. I emphasized to my students that they MUST learn how to value their time and skills–and that means attaching a dollar amount to their hours, materials, products, ideas, etc.
Now, as a practicing artist/designer myself, I know full well how we all do this stuff because we are compelled to do it, and would probably all continue to do it if we were locked in a jail cell with only a pencil and a notebook. We all draw/write/sing etc. because of something within us that compells us, not because someone outside makes us.
But, when I advise my students, I tell them again and again that “out there” in the real world, there are all kinds of people making BIG money on the backs of all us creative types–for example there are still music industry bigwigs making huge money, while thousands of real, talented musicians barely scrape by.
Where I live, there is a certain local event each year with big corporate sponsors and that brings in tons of visitors to the city. Everyone — the promotors, the performers, the sound guys, the tent rental company, the advertisers, the food vendors, the souvenir sellers, the property managers, the security guards, the bar staff, the tech people, the clean-up crew–they ALL get paid standard industry rates. Who doesn’t get paid? THE GRAPHIC DESIGNER, who creates the entire visual identity of the event, the programs, the posters, the web site, the t-shirts. The GRAPHIC DESIGNER is expected to work for months, for far below minimum wage, “in the spirit of volunteering for the community” and for the “fun” of having a good “portfolio piece.”
I tell my students this is bullshit. I tell them to demand their full freelance rate and bill for every hour, and to avoid this kind of arrangement at all costs. (They don’t always listen, of course!)
But I know it’s a losing battle. I’ve been doing graphic design for 20 years and I know the terrain is shifting, and there’s not much anyone can do about it–except to keep billing for my time. You know from all my posts on your column over the years that I’m also looking for a “different way” of doing what I do. Like you, I haven’t quite found it yet, but I’m stil looking.
So, I’ll tell you that I know that what you do is incredibly valuable and precious to so many of us readers. But I also understand if you need to find some other way.
And like all your readers and supporters, I too wish you all the best and thank you for all the brilliant work you’ve done over the years.
I think we get the point. You’re not going to do it unless someone else pays you to do it. Which is entirely up to you. Thanks for the memories, enjoy your new bullet points and whatever it is you will do instead!
Gosh Jennifer, did you mean to be dismissive of Cary’s dilemma? The internet way of communicating can sometimes come off like that.
As an artist, I understand completely the anguish of creating without the guarantee of monetary compensation.
As
…a long time reader and admirer of Cary’s work, I would like to support him monitarily somehow. I would definitely pay to read his advice! (sorry, my phone acting up)