From Jane Friedman:
We need more discussion of what writers earn, with specific authors talking about their advances, royalties, sales, expenses, connections that led to earnings and profitable gigs—all of it. In an industry where talking about the money is often taboo or even shameful (few want to admit how little or how much they earn), the more we all open up, then the more we can normalize the practice of talking about art and commerce, and the more people can make the best decisions for their careers. And I’ll disclose my own book earnings by the end of this post.
. . . .
I do not like this question. Of course I understand why it’s asked, and I empathize with those who ask it. But it’s like asking what does a musician earn? Or what does an artist earn? The answer will be influenced by all kinds of factors that may or may not apply to you—and that are entirely misleading about your own potential.
So, with the posts above, you’re going to find limitations. Someone will react to the information and say, “BUT [exception here].” From my POV, these exceptions can often be categorized thus:
Traditional publishing earnings can have little in common with self-publishing earnings.
Your genre/category can determine a lot about your potential earnings. So does how much work you have out on the market. More books equals more earnings potential, period, no matter how you publish.
Authors who participate in the so-called Creator Economy can have little in common with authors who do not. (Here’s one perspective on the creator economy if you’re not familiar with it. This is a more optimistic view; there are pessimists, too.)
This is also why it is a tortured exercise to try and run any kind of meaningful survey on what authors earn. I’ve written at length about the problems of these author earnings surveys. However, authors organizations engage in these surveys regularly, partly because they have to. How else can they pressure lawmakers and advocate for their members? They need some kind of evidence that says, “Look! Writers are suffering. They earn less than ever before. This is an emergency!”
Is that true?
No.
But is publishing and literary culture changing?
Yes.
Are the changes bad?
It depends on who you ask.
The majority of writers don’t earn a living from book sales alone.
This hasn’t really changed over time. We all know people don’t go into the writing profession for the big bucks unless they’re delusional. Rather it’s the pursuit of a dream, maybe the pursuit of fame and prestige. And it’s like playing the lottery if you’re hoping to become one of the bestsellers.
The good news, for some? I referenced The Creator Economy above. In short, there are more opportunities than ever for creators (including writers/authors) to earn money directly from readers. But that has very little to do with writing and selling books in the traditional, old-school, pre-internet manner. And that’s what traditionally published authors (like those who belong to The Authors Guild) really care about. Can I earn a living from publishers’ advances and royalty checks, while I focus solely on writing more books? And the answer to that is: for the majority of traditionally published authors, most of the time, no. You should not expect this today. Yes, it happens. But without some other support or income (a spouse, a day job), it’s tough. Should this be the ideal the book publishing industry strives for? That’s another post.
There are a good number of self-published writers, though, who can make this happen. They work largely in genre fiction. They have to put out a ton of work each year—multiple titles. It’s a treadmill. It’s not for everyone. But it can be done, and some enjoy it and wouldn’t trade that model for a traditional publishing life.
I’m a writer and author—and also a “creator.”
I traditionally publish and self-publish books, but that’s a very small part of my income—less than 5 percent. I’ve made about the same amount of money from my self-published book as my traditionally published book. I was paid a $5,000 advance for The Business of Being a Writer and I earned out that advance after the first year of sales. After my advance earned out, I’ve received an additional $20,000 in royalties (since 2018).
But most of my money comes from teaching and hosting online classes (by myself and others) and by selling a paid subscription newsletter, The Hot Sheet. I also offer some services and consulting, but I’ve been drawing that down to focus on my own writing and publishing. Why? Because over time, I’m earning more from my writing and publishing activities. This is the way it works for most people. You don’t earn that much at first, but you keep at it. If you can stay in the game longer than others dropping away from discouragement and disillusionment, it’s possible to see results.
Link to the rest at Jane Friedman
I wonder if part of this is an issue of expectations. When you are hired to do a job by a company–say, database coding–you don’t solely work on database coding, unless you are in a really bizarre and rarefied situation. You attend meetings, you get pulled into side projects, you end up training people (or being trained); you answer phones and have long, irritating email chains and have to tussle with people from other departments. You get involved in upgrades, and back-ups, and emergencies; you lose entire months because people have changed the project specs, and more months fighting to keep people from switching platforms to some platform that will make your job harder, etc.
And yet writers, yearning to become full-time writers, think their only duty and task is to write. That’s it. “I sit down, and write a chapter of a novel, until it’s done, and then money happens.”
Maybe if more creative types knew that turning their creativity into a job requires job-like activities along with the creative parts, there wouldn’t be ‘shocking! news at 11!’ type announcements that writing careers might involve other activities, like teaching, speaking, marketing, merchandising, etc. 🙂
I’d like to hear how full-time writers who don’t make much money eat. How do they buy food? Are they scamming welfare? Supported by relatives? Living in a box under a bridge?
Hence, I suspect there aren’t any. Rather there are people who engage in the activity of writing, making little money at it, while they support themselves and their families with any of a zillion day jobs. And many live very well from those day jobs.
Labeling them in economic terms as writers makes as much sense as labeling me as a softball player who had no income last year. It’s true. Hard to believe, but I didn’t make a cent playing softball last year. But, I’m honing my craft, and feel the nurturing support of the other sluggards on the team. Yet, I do live very comfortably. How can that be?
So, here’s a good question. What was the average annual earning of people who devoted more then 40 hours per week to the activity of writing last year, and had no other cash flow, support, or savings drawdown?
I do agree with your point. I took to writing late and, frankly, I greatly enjoy it. I wouldn’t stop now with my genre novels even if I never made a significant profit. The improvement, the deepening of perception, the sharpening of tools, the sheer fun of making things up and controlling a world — it’s addictive.
Now economics are another matter. For business analysis purposes, I treat each publication as a variable annuity. Each year I put X value into it (a lot when it’s created, not much after that) and pull Y proceeds from it. I aim at earning 15% yearly as a whole over time from my total investment in my growing publication portfolio. Some items earn a lot, percentage wise (bundles cost almost nothing to create), and some don’t. Some cost more post-publication (marketing for 1st-in-series) and some don’t. It’s primarily the aggregate I care about.
To keep things honest, I add my own time to the cost side of product creation (X hours at a reasonable hourly rate) since I could in principle be earning a salary instead (though at my age…). That makes the total equation harder, but not impossible. Sometimes I make my goal, sometimes I don’t, but it’s always relative to how much new work I can do in a year. I expect to make it regularly after I get a few more titles out.
So, I would never have taken this on as a primary money-earning career — too unpredictable. But as an investment activity? Where your hours invested turn into cash (with modest additional costs)? How many hobbies/recreations actually make money like this? And how many ordinary jobs let you take months off for illness or other emergencies?
I think a point to emphasize is that a real writer concerned with creativity and not just making money has motivation that goes far beyond the bottom line. When I was young, I was willing to hitchhike around the world as a penniless vagabond in pursuit of excellence as a writer. When I was raising my family I took a teaching job to make ends meet but kept writing all the while. Now that my kids are grown I still write every day but I need a roof over my head so I spend part of my time writing articles solely for money so I can pay the rent. But I always write, and I always spend at least some time every day writing whatever the hell I want. Sometimes it sells and sometimes it doesn’t, but I consider writing much more than a mere occupation; it’s also a calling and, for me at least, an obligation to myself. I couldn’t even think of stopping any more than I would stop caring for my sons.
I am deep into writing the rest of book 2 in the PC trilogy – and haven’t marketed in ages.
As a result, I have sold only a couple of books this year (literally).
I just don’t have the energy, and mainstream fiction is more complicated to sell than that which you can search for in popular categories on Amazon.
One of these days the writing will be finished. Then marketing will be worth the effort.
There’s also the age thing. If you’re 65+, you may not need to be a big earner (as Tony Soprano would put it).
Asking about writerly/creative income as if it were a salary leads me to believe that what people are really asking is “Does a full-time writer end up with more or less total income in a year than I do as an assistant regional manager?”.
Since figures vary wildly from month to month and writer to writer, perhaps a better phrasing of the question would be “Dear author, what is YOUR net yearly income from creative projects?”
But expect the answer to still have caveats about income from teaching courses and from affiliate sales and from that one-ff moonlighting gig that doesn’t really fit either category…
This disparity described in the post can be described by referring to the Gini coefficient. Writing is one of those professions where the Gini ratio is high, which means there’s a great disparity between the lowest earnings versus the highest earnings.
The problem with measuring writer incomes is that if you turn equality into a goal then one can easily miss the process you’re trying to improve, namely writer incomes.
While all writers you can have equality of opportunity (write a book), it’s difficult to have equality of outcomes (all books are best sellers).
As RAH said, There’s no such thing as a free lunch.
Nice to have a little economic commentary, Ashley.
As always, my pleasure.