From Stroppy Author, a children’s writer in Cambridge (the original one in England, not the Johnny-come-lately in Massachusetts).
Passive Guy is sure most of you know what Stroppy means, but just in case: Easily offended or annoyed; ill-tempered or belligerent.
Many publishers assume writers have a so-called ‘day job’. It helps them excuse (to themselves) the pitiful fees or advances they offer most writers; it’s all OK, writers are doing something else for money. ‘Don’t give up the day job!’ they say nervously, or with a laugh, when telling you the scandalously low offer. Now look here, publishers. Writing IS my day job. Just as editing is yours. That’s why you want to commission me – because I’m a professional. So cut this crap about a day job.
. . . .
There is something of a distinction to be made here between fiction and non-fiction writing, especially for children. It’s easy for the publisher to think to themselves, ‘Ah, she likes writing these stories, so she will want to do them anyway. Getting some money is a bonus.’ (Crap, by the way – you want it, you pay for it.) They are less likely to think someone might spend their leisure time writing trade books about earthquakes, or fast cars, or textbooks about bacteria. But publishers still don’t necessarily pay properly for these, especially the text book. After all, some text books are written by teachers, aren’t they? And teachers have a day job so they don’t need much money. Crap again – you want their time, you pay for it.
Some children’s non-fiction is written for a flat fee. The fee should obviously reflect the amount of time the writer is expected to put in. So if you are offered a fee of £1500 for 48 pages (which used to be typical, but it’s fallen over the last five years and you might be offered only £1200), you need to know how long you can afford to work for that money. We could get into lots of complicated stuff about finance here, but all I will say is that you must remember the £1500 is not your income but your turnover. It has to cover expenses such as computer costs and heating your house during the day while you work in it. It has to cover non-earning time such as the time you spend answering emails, chasing late payments and putting together proposals for books that are never sold to a publisher. So they’re not going to get three weeks, are they? This is when they might mention the ‘day job’. Hey, publishers: I will not work for virtually nothing so that your publishing company can make money on what they will otherwise claim is not a viable book. Is the editor working for less than the going rate? Or less than they were paid ten years ago? No. Are you paying less than the going rate for your electricity? No. What will happen if I go to Waitrose and ask if I can have my food for less this week because my overheads have risen? What do you think?
. . . .
Isn’t it rather odd that publishers consider the people who produce the main component of their product to be doing something else most of the time? Isn’t it rather dodgy to build a multi-million dollar industry on a bunch of people whose attention is usually somewhere else? And is there any other industry that is so dismissive of its suppliers?
During the course of publishing The Passive Voice, PG has learned that stroppiness is a professional requirement for most romance writers. Now he learns that children’s writers must also be stroppy. Perhaps an author’s motto must be: Semper Stroppinius.
Reading this has definitely made PG stroppier, so he’s in perfect mood to review a book contract.