From The Atlantic:
Money makes people anxious—perhaps even more so with writers. The relationship between commerce and writing is commonly sketched out in caricatures: the starving artist, the hapless student, the privileged few who “make it.” More often, it’s not addressed at all.
In the past few years, some writers have begun to more openly approach questions of class. The internet has seen a profusion of such pieces: A writer who is “sponsored” by her husband calls on other writers to be more transparent about where their money comes from. Another outlines the clear advantages that being born rich, connected, and able to attend expensive schools furnishes to becoming a successful writer. In another case, a woman who wrote a well-received debut novel details how she went broke after a single advance.
A new book of essays and interviews with writers on the topic of money, released earlier this month, aims to dig even deeper. Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living, edited by Manjula Martin, includes hard truths and thoughtful meditations on class and capitalism while also functioning as a survival guide. In one essay, Roxane Gay (Bad Feminist, Difficult Women) speaks frankly about her student debt, annual income, and past day jobs. In another, Martin herself explains the kind of code-switching by which writers conceal their class background in talking about their careers.
By turns comforting, depressing, and illuminating, Scratch paints a fuller, more personal picture of what it’s like to make a living from—or while—writing. I spoke with Martin about the intersection of writing, money, and class, as well as the process of making Scratch.
. . . .
Joseph Frankel : Some of the writers you spoke with for Scratch were very frank about their finances and their class backgrounds. Others were a little more reluctant. What accounts for these different levels of openness? Manjula Martin: In my experience working with writers on this topic, it’s often the people who have more money who don’t want to talk about money. Transparency is a really scary thing for a lot of people in any profession, and I think there are good reasons for that. But people who are excited to talk about the topic, even if they’re nervous, inherently understand … that it takes transparency to change stuff. It’s the old saw of “knowledge is power,” and I think that extends to writers and money.
There are a lot of barriers to access for people who come from low-income backgrounds, or maybe less traditional educational backgrounds, or who have had to deal with other types of prejudices in their life. If we want that to change, we need to start being honest about how this business actually works.
Frankel: Essays in the collection call attention to the creative value of day jobs and, in the case of Leslie Jamison (The Empathy Exams), their impact on writers’ output. Others, particularly the piece by Alexander Chee (The Queen of the Night, Edinburgh), think that the discussion of day jobs helps to romanticize unfair pay for writers. How do you think about the relationship between other kinds of work and writing?
Martin: I think that some of the stuff Chee says in his essay is particularly valuable for younger writers who maybe haven’t been around in an era where folks were ever really compensated well. I’ve certainly written for free. I’d bet Chee has done it too, and I think he talks about that in his essay. But if you’re hiring me to do work, you need to pay me, is sort of his stance. And I agree with that 100 percent. You mentioned romanticizing that relationship between work and craft. I think it’s very tricky because there is a lot of dangerous romanticization, and that can set writers up, particularly in the beginnings of their careers, to blunder in a business they know nothing about.
Link to the rest at The Atlantic and thanks to Bill for the tip.
Writers seem a bit precious to me. I’ve known many people who have taken risks and ended up paying for it. Others who worked hard, did the right thing, and still took it in the chops. Building contractors who built on spec and took it through the nose, or work for free because they neglected to get paid upfront or set up an opportunity for a lien. Or people who sweated it out for tech startups and never received their last three months of pay or even a good reference.
The stories go on and on. You can say these people were stupid, but I don’t believe it. This is life.
Certainly, writers deserve to be paid for their work, but like everybody else, deserving to be paid and getting paid is not the same thing. It may take some dragging through the mud before you figure out what works for you. And some very smart and accomplished people never do.
As Kurt Vonnegut said, so it goes.
Chris Fox and other indie writers talking numbers about money. No handwavium. Income reports from 2016.
Interesting how many people in that thread are talking about quarterly tax filings. Almost as if that were normal for small businesses and self-employed people and not a death blow to the creative process. (Reference the outrage some people felt at changes to the UK tax code.)
Interesting stuff.
Especially the part about setting up an S-Corp to distribute ownership and income to the family and minimize taxes.
Definitely folks who see publishing as a business and act accordingly.
You have to sell (or rent via KU) enough books to make money before it’s worth doing all that. Unless you are protecting your personal worth because of the kinds of books you write?
Well, yes.
But that is the goal, no? 😉
I just found the tax minimization aspect interesting given how much flak Amazon gets for their tax minimization. It’s not just for multinationals, is it?
It’s even more fun to watch the hand wringing over Amazon’s refusal to collect state sales tax that the residents of the state refuse to pay.
Personally, I think everyone should pay taxes, except for me. I’m an artist, and society is lucky to have me defending our literary culture.
I am always startled by people who ask, “Do you make a lot of money from writing? How much?” Am tempted to answer, “What’s your job? What’s your income?”
Why does everyone think it is okay to ask writers about their income? Do they ask that of their doctor, insurance salesman, grocery store checker, etc?
My standard answer for those is “I’ll show you my Schedule C if you show me yours.”
The follow-up question is invariably “What’s a Schedule C?”
I think not talking about money can have bad side effects. I didn’t know who made what when I was younger, I was well into my 30’s before I really understood money. I just assumed once I got my law degree I’d be making more than my father, who fixed forklifts. Not even close, and I had no idea what my father made, because people don’t talk about that stuff. I had no perspective on how big my college loans were either, I just assumed it was worth it. It was, but maybe not the law degree.
Funny, because if someone asks me what I make I’ll tell them. Why? Because they may be interested in a career change, or so we can compare notes. I’ve never understood the demand that income be off-limits for discussion. The only people that benefits are employers and people ashamed of their income.
Huh.
Scratch: Writers, Money, and the Art of Making a Living is $11.99 in Kindle and $11.46 in paperback on Amazon.
And we know Amazon would give them ‘more’ money per ebook sold at $9.99 than they will at $11.99 — which just shows that they actually ‘don’t’ know how to get the most money for the writer.
Pubbed by Simon & Schuster; price set by publisher.
“Pubbed by Simon & Schuster; price set by publisher.”
Why yes, yes it is. Any bets on the book covering that little problem? After all, the book is suppose to be about writers talking about money, and your publisher hurting your sales and what you get from them with poor pricing can be very big money indeed.