Last night I watched the 1990s movie version of Arthur Miller's The Crucible. At the end John Proctor (played movingly by Daniel Day-Lewis) reluctantly signs his name to a confession of witchcraft that will allow him and his wife to go free. However, he recants when the judges insist on posting the confession on the church door for everyone to see. Why, he is asked. "Because it is my name. It is the only one I will have in this life."
It struck me how, though less dramatically, this applies to writers. We have a name, and even if we choose to use another one for our writing, it still represents us and, therefore, everything that goes out under that name should be our best effort.
I mentioned in passing that I've begun to edit for a content site. Yes, the same kind of site I panned in some recent posts. I wasn't going to say much about it here, mainly because I didn't think many of my readers would be interested. However, in the past week I edited a couple of submissions with familiar names and bios at the bottom, and one was by an award-winning novelist who spoke at a conference I recently attended.
I imagine these people are writing for these sites for the same reason I edit for them. Not only does creative writing not pay much anymore, with contest submission fees––and now fees for standard submissions––attending conferences for networking, paying someone to design a website, and even published novelists often spending more on self-promotion than they make in royalties, most creative writers end up in the red, without counting those who paid for an MFA degree. Unless you are a pensioner (in which case you are usually too old to be taken seriously) or can depend on a partner's income, you may decide to lower your standards a bit in order to make some cash. But lower standards for where you will submit, shouldn't mean lower standards for what you submit.
I will tell you that from among 300 how-to and list articles I've edited in the past 3 weeks, the one by the novelist was one of only three I accepted on the first draft. The rest have gone back for rewrites even though it takes twice as much work for the same money and twice as long for me to get paid. Why? Because while I am not allowed to give my name, it is still my name I'm editing under, and I know it. I imagine the same applied to the piece the novelist submitted. Unfortunately, not all professional writers seem to feel the same.
As with any other editing job, the majority of submissions come from people who think they can write, but can't. When those writers think they can write knowledgeably about something they've never done, just by perusing a website or two, you can see why so much gets turned back. However, going by the bios (which, by the way, are not required, so I'm not telling tales about the novelist), some of these people are experienced writers who somehow feel what they are doing does not require their best efforts. One almost senses these writers throwing down their credentials like a gauntlet, challenging editors to question their skills and expertise.
Regularly, they ignore guidelines, like starting steps with an "action verb" or using AP style for punctuation. They use fancy language as filler to cover a lack of knowledge or skip steps in a fairly easy task like making home-made party invitations. Based on the credits in the bios, I can only assume they did not try to get away with the same things when submitting to those other publications, so why do they do it for this site? Perhaps as a way of saying, we do not deserve their best work. Then they get all huffy when something is rejected or post on other sites about the poor editors at the site I work with.
The novelist I spoke of obviously didn't feel that way. First she chose something she knew, a writing-related topic. Then she followed the guidelines perfectly and still managed to add some style. The piece was perfect––I didn't even need to add or subtract a comma––and she proudly added her bio, maybe the best bio to ever appear on the site.
As writers we may have to lower our standards in order to support our creative habit. Still, everything you write, whether for your blog or a letter to the local newspaper should meet your highest standards, because it is your name, and you should want it associated only with your best work.
Showing posts with label Money Matters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Money Matters. Show all posts
Monday, May 10, 2010
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Beware the Elite Group Approach
Writing is a lot like singing. Deep down we all believe if a talent scout happened to stand outside our shower, he would immediately sign us for a contract. Same with writing. I don't need to tell those of you who edit/teach as well as write how many more people believe they can write than actually can.
Back in the day of the quill this wasn't a problem. First off, being able to write meant something much more literal. I'm guessing the invention of the typewriter led to more poor submissions, but even then, the struggle of typing and correcting, coupled with paying to send a clean manuscript through the mail, still kept numbers rather small.
Enter the computer and word processing and guidelines available online and sending submissions off with one mouse click. Suddenly the physical acts of writing and submitting have become so simplified all those people who believe they can write are really doing it and sending it out hoping for publication. It is often implied that this over supply caused the proliferation of nonpaying literary journals. Maybe I'm prejudiced, but I wouldn't agree. The elite journals that publish big-name writers, the ones new writers rarely if ever get into, continue to pay fairly well, while nonpaying journals, particularly those online, may pay little or nothing but offer new writers––who otherwise wouldn't get published or paid–-an opportunity to break in.
At the risk of repeating myself, this over supply of writers has caused another seriously bad trend––the content site. For those unfamiliar with the term, the sites range anywhere from something like Suite 101 where writers post articles on a variety of topics and are paid a revenue share for ad clicks, to sites like Demand Studios where writers pick up assignments for a flat fee of anywhere from $3 to $15 for articles ranging from about 100 to 600 words. The latter sites serve as suppliers for other sites like eHow, About.com, etc.
I already covered in another post why I think these sites dumb down writing. They also exploit wannabe writers with a very old sales ploy, convincing them that they are part of a select group.
You've seen it a million times in sales pitches received in the mail.
These usually include photos of well-coifed and apparently well-healed individuals you'd like to believe you resemble or could resemble if you lived in these places.
In much the same way, content sites lure writers and keep them writing for slave wages by making them believe only the very best need apply. Some sites suggest they prefer journalism degrees. They all request writing samples and often a CV. Of course, it is impossible to know how many people are ever really rejected––almost as hard as finding out what the company makes off each article. My strong suspicion is the selection process is pretty lax, and they leave the rest up to the poor copy editors––who often make even less per article than the writers, if you can believe it.
One blog post by someone who was rejected by Suite 101 says they claim to accept only 20% of applicants. Notice the clever use of "only." Twenty percent is dang high if you think about it. Most online lit journals fall in the area of accepting around 1%-2% of submissions. Given the number of people who probably submit without checking the guidelines and send samples of the wrong type of article, my guess is it still isn't very hard to break in.
I will give Suite some credit (as you know I do write for them) in that they do have many writers at the site who are experts in their fields and/or thoroughly research articles to make them informative and even provide some new insights. We tend to be writers who are just looking for a little more exposure than we'd get through our blogs and, hey, making a few pennies wouldn't hoit. Unfortunately, I don't think the ability to write those articles is a criterion for an invitation to join.
While I and others may have our reasons, it pains me in the forums to read posts from people who really think writing for Suite or other content or pay-per-click sites gives them some kind of bragging rights and inroads that outweigh the minuscule pay. They attend writers conferences and return crestfallen when other writers don't consider them professionals, or they attempt to submit their articles as clips for better writing gigs and don't understand why they aren't taken more seriously.
If writers want to make a few bucks writing for these sites, I have no problem with it. I just wish the sites would be honest about what they are and what they count for, so more writers could go into it with their eyes open.
Back in the day of the quill this wasn't a problem. First off, being able to write meant something much more literal. I'm guessing the invention of the typewriter led to more poor submissions, but even then, the struggle of typing and correcting, coupled with paying to send a clean manuscript through the mail, still kept numbers rather small.
Enter the computer and word processing and guidelines available online and sending submissions off with one mouse click. Suddenly the physical acts of writing and submitting have become so simplified all those people who believe they can write are really doing it and sending it out hoping for publication. It is often implied that this over supply caused the proliferation of nonpaying literary journals. Maybe I'm prejudiced, but I wouldn't agree. The elite journals that publish big-name writers, the ones new writers rarely if ever get into, continue to pay fairly well, while nonpaying journals, particularly those online, may pay little or nothing but offer new writers––who otherwise wouldn't get published or paid–-an opportunity to break in.
At the risk of repeating myself, this over supply of writers has caused another seriously bad trend––the content site. For those unfamiliar with the term, the sites range anywhere from something like Suite 101 where writers post articles on a variety of topics and are paid a revenue share for ad clicks, to sites like Demand Studios where writers pick up assignments for a flat fee of anywhere from $3 to $15 for articles ranging from about 100 to 600 words. The latter sites serve as suppliers for other sites like eHow, About.com, etc.
I already covered in another post why I think these sites dumb down writing. They also exploit wannabe writers with a very old sales ploy, convincing them that they are part of a select group.
You've seen it a million times in sales pitches received in the mail.
"Your income level qualifies you to purchase a time share in..."
"Blank Properties, because you appreciate the finer things in life..."
"You've worked hard, now you deserve to enjoy your retirement at Living Well Estates..."
These usually include photos of well-coifed and apparently well-healed individuals you'd like to believe you resemble or could resemble if you lived in these places.
In much the same way, content sites lure writers and keep them writing for slave wages by making them believe only the very best need apply. Some sites suggest they prefer journalism degrees. They all request writing samples and often a CV. Of course, it is impossible to know how many people are ever really rejected––almost as hard as finding out what the company makes off each article. My strong suspicion is the selection process is pretty lax, and they leave the rest up to the poor copy editors––who often make even less per article than the writers, if you can believe it.
One blog post by someone who was rejected by Suite 101 says they claim to accept only 20% of applicants. Notice the clever use of "only." Twenty percent is dang high if you think about it. Most online lit journals fall in the area of accepting around 1%-2% of submissions. Given the number of people who probably submit without checking the guidelines and send samples of the wrong type of article, my guess is it still isn't very hard to break in.
I will give Suite some credit (as you know I do write for them) in that they do have many writers at the site who are experts in their fields and/or thoroughly research articles to make them informative and even provide some new insights. We tend to be writers who are just looking for a little more exposure than we'd get through our blogs and, hey, making a few pennies wouldn't hoit. Unfortunately, I don't think the ability to write those articles is a criterion for an invitation to join.
While I and others may have our reasons, it pains me in the forums to read posts from people who really think writing for Suite or other content or pay-per-click sites gives them some kind of bragging rights and inroads that outweigh the minuscule pay. They attend writers conferences and return crestfallen when other writers don't consider them professionals, or they attempt to submit their articles as clips for better writing gigs and don't understand why they aren't taken more seriously.
If writers want to make a few bucks writing for these sites, I have no problem with it. I just wish the sites would be honest about what they are and what they count for, so more writers could go into it with their eyes open.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Nonpaying Literary Journals
Hope Clark in her Editor's Thoughts for the FFW newsletter April 4, lams into nonpaying literary journals. It's a good piece, and reading it I found myself nodding. Only on second thought, I didn't totally agree. As a writer and editor who has written for and worked for both paying and nonpaying markets, I have a foot in both camps here.
As a writer, next to getting published, I like getting paid. It does annoy me that in the years since I started submitting seriously, writing for free has become the rule rather than the exception. However, as an editor I've worked for three online journals in the past 10 years. One paid $25 when online publications were rare, let alone paying ones. That zine went in and out of publication and through various incarnations for years, the last in the form of a winter issue that has been sitting on the site since January 2009. The other publication paid a whopping $40 and published four issues before the editor disappeared with nary a word. Sandwiched between those two was The Rose & Thorn (currently Rose & Thorn Journal) that doesn't pay and has been publishing four issues a year of ever increasing quality consistently since 1997. So, of those three, where would you rather have your work showcased?
I would also take issue with Hope's assumption that "editors, proofreaders, and administrative staff get
paid." While some of the better journals do employ a skeleton crew, just about every journal has some, and often all, unpaid staff doing much of the work. I am not familiar with all the journals Hope mentions as paying markets. I do know Glimmer Train was one of the first to support itself with submission fees. It calls them contest fees, but they are always running some kind of contest, and it becomes clear pretty early on that a new writer's best (though still long shot) bet for getting in is one of their New Writer's competitions. Narrative was covered extensively in a couple older posts.
At the beginning of this post I said I liked getting paid almost as much as getting published. That's a significant point. As a writer and editor I don't see anything wrong with nonpaying journals, so long as they are the ones open to new writers, which isn't always the case, and there I would strongly agree with Hope. I also feel nonpaying markets are fine if they serve as a stepping stone to better, paying publications––kind of like starting out in the mailroom of a major company and working your way up to vice-president. However, just as an employee of a company isn't likely, these days, to leave the mailroom without a Master's degree from a prestigious university, so a writer isn't likely to move up to the top journals without the same.
That is where I see the real problem. Nonpaying journals are fine as long as they represent the bottom of a tiered system in which writers can advance based purely on the quality of their work. Unfortunately, with that system having been knocked on its head by journals playing it "safe" in accepting only the highest credentials, many excellent writers don't even expect to get paid anymore. Those low expectations lead to more nonpaying markets, and the spiral continues downward.
I'm sure there is a solution out there somewhere, but it isn't writers submitting only to paying markets, because they end up hurting no one but themselves.
As a writer, next to getting published, I like getting paid. It does annoy me that in the years since I started submitting seriously, writing for free has become the rule rather than the exception. However, as an editor I've worked for three online journals in the past 10 years. One paid $25 when online publications were rare, let alone paying ones. That zine went in and out of publication and through various incarnations for years, the last in the form of a winter issue that has been sitting on the site since January 2009. The other publication paid a whopping $40 and published four issues before the editor disappeared with nary a word. Sandwiched between those two was The Rose & Thorn (currently Rose & Thorn Journal) that doesn't pay and has been publishing four issues a year of ever increasing quality consistently since 1997. So, of those three, where would you rather have your work showcased?
I would also take issue with Hope's assumption that "editors, proofreaders, and administrative staff get
paid." While some of the better journals do employ a skeleton crew, just about every journal has some, and often all, unpaid staff doing much of the work. I am not familiar with all the journals Hope mentions as paying markets. I do know Glimmer Train was one of the first to support itself with submission fees. It calls them contest fees, but they are always running some kind of contest, and it becomes clear pretty early on that a new writer's best (though still long shot) bet for getting in is one of their New Writer's competitions. Narrative was covered extensively in a couple older posts.
At the beginning of this post I said I liked getting paid almost as much as getting published. That's a significant point. As a writer and editor I don't see anything wrong with nonpaying journals, so long as they are the ones open to new writers, which isn't always the case, and there I would strongly agree with Hope. I also feel nonpaying markets are fine if they serve as a stepping stone to better, paying publications––kind of like starting out in the mailroom of a major company and working your way up to vice-president. However, just as an employee of a company isn't likely, these days, to leave the mailroom without a Master's degree from a prestigious university, so a writer isn't likely to move up to the top journals without the same.
That is where I see the real problem. Nonpaying journals are fine as long as they represent the bottom of a tiered system in which writers can advance based purely on the quality of their work. Unfortunately, with that system having been knocked on its head by journals playing it "safe" in accepting only the highest credentials, many excellent writers don't even expect to get paid anymore. Those low expectations lead to more nonpaying markets, and the spiral continues downward.
I'm sure there is a solution out there somewhere, but it isn't writers submitting only to paying markets, because they end up hurting no one but themselves.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Congrats to Kimberly and My Own Thoughts on Contests
First I want to congratulate one of my favorite bloggers, Kimberly Davis. Her poem "Alchemy" won Mid-America Review's James Wright Poetry Award. In her announcement Kimberly, as always, has some useful insights into writing contests.
Opinions regarding contests vary widely among writers. Some feel they are a waste of money since most require a submission fee and the odds of winning are long. Others are downright skeptical assuming that: new writers need not apply; an MFA is required; or winners are usually "in bed" with the judges. This skepticism was fanned a few years back when some dirty linen did fall out of the closet. In one or two cases it appeared judges had awarded former students, and in more than one case the judge determined there were no winners and contest sponsors refused demands for refunds of submission fees.
These situations were truly not the rule. If there were more than three or four that made the writer magazines, I'm not aware of them. However, as often happens, the hue and cry had the further beneficial effect of making contest sponsors even more vigilant for any appearance of favoritism.
Consequently, I would join Kim in encouraging writers to enter competitions, and I would add one additional reason to what she covers in her post. I find that writing for contests can be a great incentive to produce. While I've never come closer than a finalist––a distinction shared by the top 50 entries––some of my best work has been written with the intention of submitting to a specific contest.
I say intention, because I don't always submit the final product. Sometimes I miss the deadline while trying to get it into polished form, sometimes the final version doesn't appear as good a match as I first envisioned it, or I may decide I don't want to tie up a story with potential in a contest that doesn't accept simultaneous submissions. Whether I submit or not, I usually end up with something to show for my efforts.
As far as when and where to submit, contests can become an expensive habit. I encourage writers to set a budget and choose wisely. Keep in mind that choosing wisely doesn't mean the lowest submission fee or the one where winning is most likely. If the award carries little prestige, no amount of money will be worth it. But whether you submit and win, submit and don't win, or don't end up submitting at all, searching out and writing for competitions can be a useful expenditure of a writer's time.
Opinions regarding contests vary widely among writers. Some feel they are a waste of money since most require a submission fee and the odds of winning are long. Others are downright skeptical assuming that: new writers need not apply; an MFA is required; or winners are usually "in bed" with the judges. This skepticism was fanned a few years back when some dirty linen did fall out of the closet. In one or two cases it appeared judges had awarded former students, and in more than one case the judge determined there were no winners and contest sponsors refused demands for refunds of submission fees.
These situations were truly not the rule. If there were more than three or four that made the writer magazines, I'm not aware of them. However, as often happens, the hue and cry had the further beneficial effect of making contest sponsors even more vigilant for any appearance of favoritism.
Consequently, I would join Kim in encouraging writers to enter competitions, and I would add one additional reason to what she covers in her post. I find that writing for contests can be a great incentive to produce. While I've never come closer than a finalist––a distinction shared by the top 50 entries––some of my best work has been written with the intention of submitting to a specific contest.
I say intention, because I don't always submit the final product. Sometimes I miss the deadline while trying to get it into polished form, sometimes the final version doesn't appear as good a match as I first envisioned it, or I may decide I don't want to tie up a story with potential in a contest that doesn't accept simultaneous submissions. Whether I submit or not, I usually end up with something to show for my efforts.
As far as when and where to submit, contests can become an expensive habit. I encourage writers to set a budget and choose wisely. Keep in mind that choosing wisely doesn't mean the lowest submission fee or the one where winning is most likely. If the award carries little prestige, no amount of money will be worth it. But whether you submit and win, submit and don't win, or don't end up submitting at all, searching out and writing for competitions can be a useful expenditure of a writer's time.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Google and Dumbing Down Writing
I dragged myself out of bed Monday morning, after staying up late to watch the healthcare vote in the House, determined to get the first Healthcare Reform article up on Suite 101. It was an unqualified success earning three times more hits in one day––actually in half a day–-than I usually get on all my articles in a month. Of course, the revenue comes from ad clicks not PVs and the Google gods, in their infinite wisdom, filled the page with ads for medical insurance, of course. Bright move, as usual, on the part of our techy friends since this is the dumbest time in the world to buy medical insurance before all the preexisting laws go into effect and four years before you need to pay a penalty for going without coverage. And if any of my readers were in the market for medical insurance, I would be the first person to steer them far, far away from anything they would find through a Google ad.
Google is quickly replacing Wikipedia in my list of Internet irritants, which means I will be mightily irritated all the time as this Goliath practically owns the web. In this case, though, I don't blame Google as much as the writers and bloggers following the star they hope will finally bring fair compensation and assuming, when it doesn't, that it is due to some fault on their part.
I can't tell you how many times I see a post on blogger forums or the forums where writers of pay-per-clicks air their woes, wondering why they aren't making money, let alone a living, from their Adsense and/or Amazon Affiliate ads. I assume someone other than Google is making something from these ads, but I can tell you now, it isn't the general writer.
Now I'm the first one to condemn "writers" looking for get-rich-quick-schemes. These are often the people who have been looking for such schemes in one area or another all their lives. They think they will suddenly start writing on a blog, without ever honing their craft, spewing opinions with little regard to spelling or grammar and watch the ad income roll in. Then there are those who don't even want to do the set-up work but sign up for some site that allows them to write one article a week on whatever topic they choose and expect to make huge sums of money based on minimum effort.
Unfortunately, as I noted in an earlier post, more and more of these sites also attract previously successful freelancers, now torturing their prose into adword phrases in a vain attempt to make what they used to writing quality pieces for the print market. Sometimes they do okay. Many don't, and sometimes they watch writers with half the talent make more because they happen to luck into a topic that attracts good ads and ad clickers. Sadly, for them and for us, rather than focusing their considerable talents on what they used to do best––in depth research and clear presentation of valued subjects––they attempt to improve their adword skills instead, having been convinced that if they aren't one of the site's big earners, they––not the site or Google's lousy marketing strategists––are doing something wrong.
Coming out of the creative sector where $10 feels like a windfall, making $25 or $30 a quarter writing on topics I enjoy is enough for me. Consequently, I continue to work on my writing skills, trying to present complicated matters of politics or history in clear and easily understood terms. I'm willing to focus on SEO (as opposed to adwords), because, while I don't condone high school students automatically trusting the article with top billing, I also know that is what they do. So they may as well read something carefully written and with a list of further resources for them to check out. However, I have no interest in playing the adword game. Then again, I don't have to. My living comes from the business I help my husband run.
It started with Microsoft convincing us that when our PCs froze up due to nasty viruses, it was our fault, not theirs. Since then we've continued to allow the techies to convince us they always know best. For those who do depend on the income, it's not only exploitative to foster dreams of high incomes they will probably never achieve, but it encourages good writers to write about empty subjects with empty words in order to make money. Further adding to the dumbing down of our culture.
Rant over. I promise to find something more uplifting to write about next time.
Google is quickly replacing Wikipedia in my list of Internet irritants, which means I will be mightily irritated all the time as this Goliath practically owns the web. In this case, though, I don't blame Google as much as the writers and bloggers following the star they hope will finally bring fair compensation and assuming, when it doesn't, that it is due to some fault on their part.
I can't tell you how many times I see a post on blogger forums or the forums where writers of pay-per-clicks air their woes, wondering why they aren't making money, let alone a living, from their Adsense and/or Amazon Affiliate ads. I assume someone other than Google is making something from these ads, but I can tell you now, it isn't the general writer.
Now I'm the first one to condemn "writers" looking for get-rich-quick-schemes. These are often the people who have been looking for such schemes in one area or another all their lives. They think they will suddenly start writing on a blog, without ever honing their craft, spewing opinions with little regard to spelling or grammar and watch the ad income roll in. Then there are those who don't even want to do the set-up work but sign up for some site that allows them to write one article a week on whatever topic they choose and expect to make huge sums of money based on minimum effort.
Unfortunately, as I noted in an earlier post, more and more of these sites also attract previously successful freelancers, now torturing their prose into adword phrases in a vain attempt to make what they used to writing quality pieces for the print market. Sometimes they do okay. Many don't, and sometimes they watch writers with half the talent make more because they happen to luck into a topic that attracts good ads and ad clickers. Sadly, for them and for us, rather than focusing their considerable talents on what they used to do best––in depth research and clear presentation of valued subjects––they attempt to improve their adword skills instead, having been convinced that if they aren't one of the site's big earners, they––not the site or Google's lousy marketing strategists––are doing something wrong.
Coming out of the creative sector where $10 feels like a windfall, making $25 or $30 a quarter writing on topics I enjoy is enough for me. Consequently, I continue to work on my writing skills, trying to present complicated matters of politics or history in clear and easily understood terms. I'm willing to focus on SEO (as opposed to adwords), because, while I don't condone high school students automatically trusting the article with top billing, I also know that is what they do. So they may as well read something carefully written and with a list of further resources for them to check out. However, I have no interest in playing the adword game. Then again, I don't have to. My living comes from the business I help my husband run.
It started with Microsoft convincing us that when our PCs froze up due to nasty viruses, it was our fault, not theirs. Since then we've continued to allow the techies to convince us they always know best. For those who do depend on the income, it's not only exploitative to foster dreams of high incomes they will probably never achieve, but it encourages good writers to write about empty subjects with empty words in order to make money. Further adding to the dumbing down of our culture.
Rant over. I promise to find something more uplifting to write about next time.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Time for Writers to Go on Strike?
I was accustomed to not making anything for my short fiction. Within the ten year period that I've been writing seriously, markets have gotten tougher to break into while the pay has dwindled to little or nothing. Ludicrous as it is, I accepted that more and more publications tacitly required those three little letters––MFA––after a writer's name––a cost of thousands of dollars to appear in journals, the majority of which still paid little or nothing. But when full-time writers wanted to make enough dollars to at least get by on, there was always freelancing.
Sure it was hard. Freelancers had twice the stress of creative writers because, before every great article, there had to be a great query. Unlike fiction writers, article writers needed to know––really know not just vaguely know–– what they planned to write about in advance. They needed to line up interview subjects before they even got the green light to write the article. Then they had to research meticulously, cite sources, know how much quoting was fair use. It was a slow grind, but once they'd been at it for a while, freelancers often developed a stable of clients who standardly accepted their queries or that came to them time after time with assignments. Sure, it might be Fence Post Manufacturers of America or a request for an article comparing dental floss, but in the end this writer received a nice reward in the form of a fair sized check. With the discipline to query and write regularly, it could turn into a pretty good living.
Not anymore. Now even that market has gone down the tubes. These days my formerly professional freelance writer friends are lurking around pay-per-click and content for sale sites, sometimes posting several articles a day for which they often make less than $10 apiece. They take on pen names because the requirements and editing are often so bad, they don't want their names associated with it. They torture their sentences into adword phrases to earn more revenue from trashy looking Google ads. Often they sell full rights, losing that other freelancer benefit, reworking the same article for several different markets.
These articles are posted on sites like e-How and About.com and the numerous other sites advertising "expert" advice on a variety of subjects. Just how "expert" can an article be that is written in less than an hour? I'm not condemning the writers for lack of research. When you have to produce five articles to make one half of what you used to make from one, sounding like an expert rather than becoming one is the name of the game. This is what writing and by extension information has become in the age of the Internet. It's writers paid pennies to produce cheap trash that sells more cheap trash through click ads. And some of these sites have the nerve to prefer a journalism degree.
Writing is one profession most people take on because they enjoy it. No one expects to get wealthy these days. Writers are accustomed to living modestly, so they can work from home and enjoy a certain amount of autonomy. But when it turns into a sweat shop with little pay for long, boring hours, what's the point?
Maybe it is time to walk away. Maybe it is time to call a strike.
Sure it was hard. Freelancers had twice the stress of creative writers because, before every great article, there had to be a great query. Unlike fiction writers, article writers needed to know––really know not just vaguely know–– what they planned to write about in advance. They needed to line up interview subjects before they even got the green light to write the article. Then they had to research meticulously, cite sources, know how much quoting was fair use. It was a slow grind, but once they'd been at it for a while, freelancers often developed a stable of clients who standardly accepted their queries or that came to them time after time with assignments. Sure, it might be Fence Post Manufacturers of America or a request for an article comparing dental floss, but in the end this writer received a nice reward in the form of a fair sized check. With the discipline to query and write regularly, it could turn into a pretty good living.
Not anymore. Now even that market has gone down the tubes. These days my formerly professional freelance writer friends are lurking around pay-per-click and content for sale sites, sometimes posting several articles a day for which they often make less than $10 apiece. They take on pen names because the requirements and editing are often so bad, they don't want their names associated with it. They torture their sentences into adword phrases to earn more revenue from trashy looking Google ads. Often they sell full rights, losing that other freelancer benefit, reworking the same article for several different markets.
These articles are posted on sites like e-How and About.com and the numerous other sites advertising "expert" advice on a variety of subjects. Just how "expert" can an article be that is written in less than an hour? I'm not condemning the writers for lack of research. When you have to produce five articles to make one half of what you used to make from one, sounding like an expert rather than becoming one is the name of the game. This is what writing and by extension information has become in the age of the Internet. It's writers paid pennies to produce cheap trash that sells more cheap trash through click ads. And some of these sites have the nerve to prefer a journalism degree.
Writing is one profession most people take on because they enjoy it. No one expects to get wealthy these days. Writers are accustomed to living modestly, so they can work from home and enjoy a certain amount of autonomy. But when it turns into a sweat shop with little pay for long, boring hours, what's the point?
Maybe it is time to walk away. Maybe it is time to call a strike.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Writing for Suite 101: My Guilty Pleasure
There are always people out there telling you what you should and shouldn't do as a writer. When I first started out new writers were criticized for writing for free. If we all stuck to that model now, most of our work would never see the light of day. Some will tell you never to pay for anything related to submissions, but then you 'd limit yourself to contests that carry little prestige and even less in prizes.
A while back I wrote about my experiences with a pay-per-click site, and how some writers think they are a bad idea. Well, bad or not, I've decided to go back to writing for Suite 101 and I am loving it. No, writing for pay-per-clicks will probably not get me a job with The New York Times or maybe not even with my community newspaper, and despite anomalies like the Suite writer who made almost $5,000 in one month, it probably won't put my daughter through grad school or even pay my grocery bill–-at least not the topics I write about. What it does get me is the opportunity to write on subjects I love but for which I do not have a "platform" as they call it in the business, and the chance to earn a few dollars while I'm at it.
When I delve into a subject, I go deep. While I never advanced beyond a BA in History, my studies imbued me with a need to go well beyond the surface. What started 10 years ago with Mari Sandoz's biography of Crazy Horse has grown into several hundred books on, not just American Indian and US Western History, but an understanding of current issues and the ability to argue some of the finer points of American Indian Law––that's what happens when you cross a wannabe historian with a wannabe lawyer. I've written book reviews for scholarly journals like Montana, the Magazine of Western History (which did feel pretty cool), but with no advanced degree or teaching position at a university, I'm not likely to get much published on that subject. That's why I took up writing on Native American/First Nations History on Suite a few years ago.
Unfortunately the 10 article per month requirement for a Feature Writer (one who writes for and maintains the topic site) became onerous, especially for a meticulous researcher and fact checker like myself. Plus, even my deep well began to run dry. However, now Suite has something called a Contributing Writer. Not only are the production requirements less but CWs can contribute to any topic, meaning I can also write about writing and publishing–-think I know a wee bit about that––politics, healthcare, running a small business or any other topic on which I have something of value to contribute.
For me, Suite fills several needs:
A while back I wrote about my experiences with a pay-per-click site, and how some writers think they are a bad idea. Well, bad or not, I've decided to go back to writing for Suite 101 and I am loving it. No, writing for pay-per-clicks will probably not get me a job with The New York Times or maybe not even with my community newspaper, and despite anomalies like the Suite writer who made almost $5,000 in one month, it probably won't put my daughter through grad school or even pay my grocery bill–-at least not the topics I write about. What it does get me is the opportunity to write on subjects I love but for which I do not have a "platform" as they call it in the business, and the chance to earn a few dollars while I'm at it.
When I delve into a subject, I go deep. While I never advanced beyond a BA in History, my studies imbued me with a need to go well beyond the surface. What started 10 years ago with Mari Sandoz's biography of Crazy Horse has grown into several hundred books on, not just American Indian and US Western History, but an understanding of current issues and the ability to argue some of the finer points of American Indian Law––that's what happens when you cross a wannabe historian with a wannabe lawyer. I've written book reviews for scholarly journals like Montana, the Magazine of Western History (which did feel pretty cool), but with no advanced degree or teaching position at a university, I'm not likely to get much published on that subject. That's why I took up writing on Native American/First Nations History on Suite a few years ago.
Unfortunately the 10 article per month requirement for a Feature Writer (one who writes for and maintains the topic site) became onerous, especially for a meticulous researcher and fact checker like myself. Plus, even my deep well began to run dry. However, now Suite has something called a Contributing Writer. Not only are the production requirements less but CWs can contribute to any topic, meaning I can also write about writing and publishing–-think I know a wee bit about that––politics, healthcare, running a small business or any other topic on which I have something of value to contribute.
For me, Suite fills several needs:
- My need to write and express myself on various topics.
- My need to learn, because I always learn when I am researching details for an article.
- My need to be read, because otherwise what is the point of writing.
Maybe with more articles up on topics of greater interest, my earnings will increase too, but really the pittance I make is icing on the cake. I know that drives some professional freelancers nuts, and I won't even try to defend it except to say, I love it. I'm hooked, and others can jump up and down and scream until they are blue in the face.
Call it my guilty pleasure.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
New FTC Disclosure Guidelines for Bloggers
For those of you who include book reviews on your blogs like I do at Cross Reference, new FTC Disclosure Requirements apply to anyone, including bloggers, who receive compensation and/or free merchandise in exchange for a review. This would apply, as best I can tell, to free review copies and free books from the Amazon Vine program in which I participate. I have made a note on all reviews for which I received a free review copy. However, to anyone who reads my reviews it's pretty obvious free merchandise has no effect.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Money Matters: FanStory.com
Money Matters is a series of not so regular posts on this blog that reviews advertised sites or services for writers where some payment is required for participation.
Lately I've been reading a lot about FanStory. I guess I'm a little slow as the site boasts they've been around for nine years. The details of how it works, from rankings to awards to member cents, are pretty complicated, so I'll leave it to you to check out if you are interested. The site charges subscription fees that run from $67 for two years, or $2.80 per month, to $6.95 for payment on a monthly basis.
While they advertise that you can get started for free, they don't tell you what the free subscription (or is it a trial) covers. Right there a red flag went up as that usually implies one of two things. Either the site will entice you with a free subscription you will find provides next to nothing, or the free trial automatically feeds into a paid subscription unless you take some action to terminate your agreement before that happens. As I was loath to get roped into either of those for a community in which I have no interest in participating, I can only review FanStory based on what I read on the site.
FanStory appears very similar to a group I joined several years ago when I was a naive new writer, only use of that site was free. It was run, if I recall, by AOL/Time-Warner and there the reward for good ratings was the possibility of being picked up for publication. Of course, that was a long shot, and with all the writers posting, I found myself in a constant struggle for ratings and feedback. This particularly involved rating others work and hoping for reciprocation.
FanStory looks much the same with participants earning member cents for reviews that they then use to entice others to review their work. The highest reward, though, doesn't appear to be publication but a "Seal of Quality", some feedback to "help" writers get published, and for the annual top five, a trophy that looks like the offspring of an Emmy-Oscar marriage. They do run some "free" contests with prizes of as much as $100, but if you consider the subscription fee that is far more than you would pay to enter any other reputable writing contest.
Before you sign up for a site like this, even if it were free, there are some things you should seriously consider. First, how much time are you going to spend reading other writers' work and trying to get them to read yours? Could that time be better spent on your own writing, researching markets, and submitting? Say you receive the "Seal of Quality" or get that nifty little statue to set on your mantle, what will that mean toward your chances of future publication? It isn't exactly a Pushcart. What it does get you is the ability to sell your work on the FanStory site for "member dollars." These are not real dollars but the currency of the FanStory site that allow you to buy certificates for more reviews. (If you're still with me on this, I give you credit.) Some writers rave about the great feedback, but there are plenty of sites where you can get feedback for free and have the opportunity to determine ahead of time if the posted work and/or the feedback is of the quality you are looking for.
If you view your writing mostly as a hobby, and you aren't aspiring to anything higher, joining a writing community like FanStory could be fun. The writing prompts and contests might inspire you, and you can interact with other writers about their work as well. If you are in any way serious about your writing, this site is probably not for you. Whatever awards you receive will be meaningless in getting your work published anywhere else, and the time you put into reviewing and trying to get reviewed could be better spent writing, reading, and researching markets.
Lately I've been reading a lot about FanStory. I guess I'm a little slow as the site boasts they've been around for nine years. The details of how it works, from rankings to awards to member cents, are pretty complicated, so I'll leave it to you to check out if you are interested. The site charges subscription fees that run from $67 for two years, or $2.80 per month, to $6.95 for payment on a monthly basis.
While they advertise that you can get started for free, they don't tell you what the free subscription (or is it a trial) covers. Right there a red flag went up as that usually implies one of two things. Either the site will entice you with a free subscription you will find provides next to nothing, or the free trial automatically feeds into a paid subscription unless you take some action to terminate your agreement before that happens. As I was loath to get roped into either of those for a community in which I have no interest in participating, I can only review FanStory based on what I read on the site.
FanStory appears very similar to a group I joined several years ago when I was a naive new writer, only use of that site was free. It was run, if I recall, by AOL/Time-Warner and there the reward for good ratings was the possibility of being picked up for publication. Of course, that was a long shot, and with all the writers posting, I found myself in a constant struggle for ratings and feedback. This particularly involved rating others work and hoping for reciprocation.
FanStory looks much the same with participants earning member cents for reviews that they then use to entice others to review their work. The highest reward, though, doesn't appear to be publication but a "Seal of Quality", some feedback to "help" writers get published, and for the annual top five, a trophy that looks like the offspring of an Emmy-Oscar marriage. They do run some "free" contests with prizes of as much as $100, but if you consider the subscription fee that is far more than you would pay to enter any other reputable writing contest.
Before you sign up for a site like this, even if it were free, there are some things you should seriously consider. First, how much time are you going to spend reading other writers' work and trying to get them to read yours? Could that time be better spent on your own writing, researching markets, and submitting? Say you receive the "Seal of Quality" or get that nifty little statue to set on your mantle, what will that mean toward your chances of future publication? It isn't exactly a Pushcart. What it does get you is the ability to sell your work on the FanStory site for "member dollars." These are not real dollars but the currency of the FanStory site that allow you to buy certificates for more reviews. (If you're still with me on this, I give you credit.) Some writers rave about the great feedback, but there are plenty of sites where you can get feedback for free and have the opportunity to determine ahead of time if the posted work and/or the feedback is of the quality you are looking for.
If you view your writing mostly as a hobby, and you aren't aspiring to anything higher, joining a writing community like FanStory could be fun. The writing prompts and contests might inspire you, and you can interact with other writers about their work as well. If you are in any way serious about your writing, this site is probably not for you. Whatever awards you receive will be meaningless in getting your work published anywhere else, and the time you put into reviewing and trying to get reviewed could be better spent writing, reading, and researching markets.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Money Matters: Do Submission Fees Always Equal a Scam?
Some writers, especially new ones, assume any submission fee must be a scam. It's important to be wary. There are a lot of unscrupulous types out there preying on desperate writers looking for that first publication, but writers who assume all submission fees are scams may unduly limit themselves, especially in a world where, increasingly, both online and print publications are looking for innovative ways to stay afloat.
Contest fees
While it may sound counter-intuitive, the most prestigious writing competitions are usually the ones that charge the most. Submission fees can range anywhere from $10-$25. The winnings from these contests are big and the judges well-known. That and administrative fees cost money. While you may find a few no-fee contests that carry a certain cachet, the majority pay little or nothing and provide empty credits. If winning includes publication, limiting yourself to free competitions can be a drawback as coming in first in the Myrtle County Writing Contest adds no beef to your bio, but the story is, nonetheless, "previously published" for the purposes of submitting elsewhere.
Having said this, not all fee charging competitions are legit. A light should go off if the fee seems out of proportion to the prize. My rule of thumb is never to pay for a prize under $100, and then the fee shouldn't be more than $10, if that much. Also, check carefully to make sure these competitions really do award prizes and don't just take your money.
Standard submission fees
In an effort to keep their heads above water and/or add more prestige to the world of zines by attracting name writers and paying well, some better journals have begun charging fees for online submissions. Several months ago I wrote about Narrative's submission fees of between $10 and $15. The pay for accepted work ranges from $150 for a "Story of the Week" to $1,000 for a 10,000 word piece. Narrative is obviously a legitimate publication, and they do publish new and emerging writers. Some take exception to the fact that Narrative charges only for "unsolicited" manuscripts. They see this as the big hitters being subsidized by the wannabes. That's a fair criticism, and it's the writer's choice.
Recently, in the move to online, other prestigious publications have begun charging much more modest fees of $2.00 or so for online submissions. Online publications have great difficulty making money, and if you think about it, submitting via snail mail, by the time you add in the SASE––not even counting paper and printing costs––well exceeds that amount, with the only beneficiaries being the postal service and your local office supply store. Add in the savings of no longer having to purchase "one or two sample copies" to understand what the journal is looking for, and you can see how these fees could benefit both sides of this symbiotic relationship.
No matter where you come down on this issue, it would be a mistake to assume all submission fees qualify as scams.
Real and almost real scams
While there are good reasons for competitions and magazines to charge submission fees, scams are out there, and you need to be able to spot them. For example, charging submission fees comparable to Narrative's when a publication pays writers little or nothing may not legally qualify as a scam, but the practice is certainly questionable. Warning lights should also go off when submission fees are required by a zine that hasn't yet published a first issue. They could just take off with the money.
Scams are hardly limited to online publishing either. A common scam is print anthologies that require advance purchases of the edition in which your work will appear. Another is agents preying on desperate novices by charging reading fees. No agent should ever charge to take a look at your book.
Finally, that old adage still applies. If it looks too good to be true, it probably is. Recently I was contacted by an "agency" asking me to write for them. They claimed I could expound on any topic I chose in 500 words or less and that their "clients" regularly paid a minimum of $150 per article. In addition, I could choose how many projects I wanted to take on in any given month. I had no doubt this was a scam, but I couldn't write here about it unless I knew for sure how it worked. So I checked out the website and started the application process figuring I'd stop when the scam revealed itself. Sure enough, submitting the application required a $20 "deposit." That's all I needed to know, but had I gone further, they might have asked for other dangerous information like credit card or SS numbers.
I'd like to think a scam like that is too obvious to make money, but I also know there are a lot of wannabe writers who might jump at the chance. Good writers need to be wary. However, assuming every submission fee equals a scam may severely limit your chances of adding good credits to your bio.
Contest fees
While it may sound counter-intuitive, the most prestigious writing competitions are usually the ones that charge the most. Submission fees can range anywhere from $10-$25. The winnings from these contests are big and the judges well-known. That and administrative fees cost money. While you may find a few no-fee contests that carry a certain cachet, the majority pay little or nothing and provide empty credits. If winning includes publication, limiting yourself to free competitions can be a drawback as coming in first in the Myrtle County Writing Contest adds no beef to your bio, but the story is, nonetheless, "previously published" for the purposes of submitting elsewhere.
Having said this, not all fee charging competitions are legit. A light should go off if the fee seems out of proportion to the prize. My rule of thumb is never to pay for a prize under $100, and then the fee shouldn't be more than $10, if that much. Also, check carefully to make sure these competitions really do award prizes and don't just take your money.
Standard submission fees
In an effort to keep their heads above water and/or add more prestige to the world of zines by attracting name writers and paying well, some better journals have begun charging fees for online submissions. Several months ago I wrote about Narrative's submission fees of between $10 and $15. The pay for accepted work ranges from $150 for a "Story of the Week" to $1,000 for a 10,000 word piece. Narrative is obviously a legitimate publication, and they do publish new and emerging writers. Some take exception to the fact that Narrative charges only for "unsolicited" manuscripts. They see this as the big hitters being subsidized by the wannabes. That's a fair criticism, and it's the writer's choice.
Recently, in the move to online, other prestigious publications have begun charging much more modest fees of $2.00 or so for online submissions. Online publications have great difficulty making money, and if you think about it, submitting via snail mail, by the time you add in the SASE––not even counting paper and printing costs––well exceeds that amount, with the only beneficiaries being the postal service and your local office supply store. Add in the savings of no longer having to purchase "one or two sample copies" to understand what the journal is looking for, and you can see how these fees could benefit both sides of this symbiotic relationship.
No matter where you come down on this issue, it would be a mistake to assume all submission fees qualify as scams.
Real and almost real scams
While there are good reasons for competitions and magazines to charge submission fees, scams are out there, and you need to be able to spot them. For example, charging submission fees comparable to Narrative's when a publication pays writers little or nothing may not legally qualify as a scam, but the practice is certainly questionable. Warning lights should also go off when submission fees are required by a zine that hasn't yet published a first issue. They could just take off with the money.
Scams are hardly limited to online publishing either. A common scam is print anthologies that require advance purchases of the edition in which your work will appear. Another is agents preying on desperate novices by charging reading fees. No agent should ever charge to take a look at your book.
Finally, that old adage still applies. If it looks too good to be true, it probably is. Recently I was contacted by an "agency" asking me to write for them. They claimed I could expound on any topic I chose in 500 words or less and that their "clients" regularly paid a minimum of $150 per article. In addition, I could choose how many projects I wanted to take on in any given month. I had no doubt this was a scam, but I couldn't write here about it unless I knew for sure how it worked. So I checked out the website and started the application process figuring I'd stop when the scam revealed itself. Sure enough, submitting the application required a $20 "deposit." That's all I needed to know, but had I gone further, they might have asked for other dangerous information like credit card or SS numbers.
I'd like to think a scam like that is too obvious to make money, but I also know there are a lot of wannabe writers who might jump at the chance. Good writers need to be wary. However, assuming every submission fee equals a scam may severely limit your chances of adding good credits to your bio.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Man Booker Prize: A Breath of Fresh Air?
The short list for this year's Man Booker Prize has been released. Only two former winners were included. Of the nine other former winners who submitted works, one source noted they ranged "from the good to the merely average, with one downright stinker."
I'm noticing a trend here in the US as well, perhaps fueled by the popularity of new online innovations, away from publishing the so-so work of the "anointed" few (at least in shorter works. Writers of book length works, no matter how disappointing, still seem to get the royal treatment with the national book tours). Even The New Yorker has been publishing some short fiction that is downright fun to read.
Anyone want to comment as to whether this trend has spilled over into Best American? Dare I admit, as a writer/editor, that it's been a couple of years since I purchased the anthology. Lord knows I spend enough on my writing already, and I was beginning to feel a little "fleeced" by this "must-read" collection where I'd find one or two stories, at best, to be memorable along with many I'd already read and forgotten in other publications. I'm wondering, though, since NYer stories always made up such a large portion of their contents, if Best might also be reflecting this trend?
I'm noticing a trend here in the US as well, perhaps fueled by the popularity of new online innovations, away from publishing the so-so work of the "anointed" few (at least in shorter works. Writers of book length works, no matter how disappointing, still seem to get the royal treatment with the national book tours). Even The New Yorker has been publishing some short fiction that is downright fun to read.
Anyone want to comment as to whether this trend has spilled over into Best American? Dare I admit, as a writer/editor, that it's been a couple of years since I purchased the anthology. Lord knows I spend enough on my writing already, and I was beginning to feel a little "fleeced" by this "must-read" collection where I'd find one or two stories, at best, to be memorable along with many I'd already read and forgotten in other publications. I'm wondering, though, since NYer stories always made up such a large portion of their contents, if Best might also be reflecting this trend?
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Imposing Order on Chaos
Wow, for the first time in a month I have no unopened e-mails in my inbox and I deleted enough that everything fits in the little window without scrolling down. I hate having a lot of stuff sitting in my inbox, which got me thinking about a post I read on Write to Done asking writers for their three best writing tips. Since before I got to it, the comments were pretty full, I thought I'd post my tips here on my blog.
Only, my writing tips aren't specifically about the act of writing. They have more to do with finding your own system for imposing order on the chaos that allows you time to write and just as important, to submit, preferably successfully.
The common wisdom is that creative minds tend to be chaotic. In my early years, I was the poster child for that theory receiving regular "N"s for "Needs Improvement" on report cards that factored that into our grade. We were required to keep a loose-leaf notebook with dividers for each subject which teachers took a perverse delight in turning upside down and shaking, bringing attention to my wayward habits of not punching holes correctly or placing reinforcements over them once I had.
To this day I can't punch uniform holes in papers, even with a three-hole punch, let alone the single-hole jobs we carried in our schoolbags. Only now it doesn't matter, because I choose to keep my important papers in folders and file boxes as opposed to binders that take up too much room anyway.
Which, finally, brings me to my point. Even writers need some kind of system. Sitting in a cube at O So Boring, Inc. you may have dreamed of a life where all you did was write all day. When that day comes, you soon realize that there's more to it than that. No one comes to weed through your Word files and take out what they want to publish. You need to submit, and submitting requires a system––top-tier down or bottom-tier up––along with recordkeeping. so you don't submit the same story twice to the same market or submit again too soon or simultaneously submit when it's not allowed (okay, we all cheat on that last one). You need to keep receipts for office supplies and contest fees so if/when you do win $,1000 or get that big advance on your book contract, you don't, unfairly, pay taxes on the full amount. If you freelance, you need to track deadlines, invoices, and payments. In short, you need to "get organized"––two words that not only strike fear in the hearts of creative people, but appear anathema to the process.
This is only because the self-proclaimed "orderly" people insist––like my teachers with their binders––on one method of organization. For years I struggled with the supposition that "order" required a clear desk, that stacks of papers on the desk and floor equaled chaos. Papers placed in hanging folders in file cabinets equaled order. Only, for me, out of sight was out of mind, and I'd forget to do things that weren't right in front of me.
In reality, this is one time where the end really does justify the means. I do keep a spreadsheet for my submissions, but if that reminds you too much of your old office job, there's nothing chaotic about keeping a list in any old wordprocessing document. The point is just to have the information somewhere that you can easily check it. My expense tracking for tax purposes amounts to throwing all my receipts in the same drawer all year long and then weeding through them when it's time to file my return. Deadline reminders can be notes on a desktop calendar, a calendar system on your laptop, or stickies on your wall, and don't underestimate the use of storage bins for everything from manuscripts to journals you've been published in.
So, my tip to writers is, don't underestimate the need to get organized. It's as important in writing as it is in any business or even everyday life. However, recognize that the goal is to impose order on the chaos, not to necessarily do it the way your fifth grade teacher said it should be done. You'd be surprised how easy it is when you do it your own way.
Only, my writing tips aren't specifically about the act of writing. They have more to do with finding your own system for imposing order on the chaos that allows you time to write and just as important, to submit, preferably successfully.
The common wisdom is that creative minds tend to be chaotic. In my early years, I was the poster child for that theory receiving regular "N"s for "Needs Improvement" on report cards that factored that into our grade. We were required to keep a loose-leaf notebook with dividers for each subject which teachers took a perverse delight in turning upside down and shaking, bringing attention to my wayward habits of not punching holes correctly or placing reinforcements over them once I had.
To this day I can't punch uniform holes in papers, even with a three-hole punch, let alone the single-hole jobs we carried in our schoolbags. Only now it doesn't matter, because I choose to keep my important papers in folders and file boxes as opposed to binders that take up too much room anyway.
Which, finally, brings me to my point. Even writers need some kind of system. Sitting in a cube at O So Boring, Inc. you may have dreamed of a life where all you did was write all day. When that day comes, you soon realize that there's more to it than that. No one comes to weed through your Word files and take out what they want to publish. You need to submit, and submitting requires a system––top-tier down or bottom-tier up––along with recordkeeping. so you don't submit the same story twice to the same market or submit again too soon or simultaneously submit when it's not allowed (okay, we all cheat on that last one). You need to keep receipts for office supplies and contest fees so if/when you do win $,1000 or get that big advance on your book contract, you don't, unfairly, pay taxes on the full amount. If you freelance, you need to track deadlines, invoices, and payments. In short, you need to "get organized"––two words that not only strike fear in the hearts of creative people, but appear anathema to the process.
This is only because the self-proclaimed "orderly" people insist––like my teachers with their binders––on one method of organization. For years I struggled with the supposition that "order" required a clear desk, that stacks of papers on the desk and floor equaled chaos. Papers placed in hanging folders in file cabinets equaled order. Only, for me, out of sight was out of mind, and I'd forget to do things that weren't right in front of me.
In reality, this is one time where the end really does justify the means. I do keep a spreadsheet for my submissions, but if that reminds you too much of your old office job, there's nothing chaotic about keeping a list in any old wordprocessing document. The point is just to have the information somewhere that you can easily check it. My expense tracking for tax purposes amounts to throwing all my receipts in the same drawer all year long and then weeding through them when it's time to file my return. Deadline reminders can be notes on a desktop calendar, a calendar system on your laptop, or stickies on your wall, and don't underestimate the use of storage bins for everything from manuscripts to journals you've been published in.
So, my tip to writers is, don't underestimate the need to get organized. It's as important in writing as it is in any business or even everyday life. However, recognize that the goal is to impose order on the chaos, not to necessarily do it the way your fifth grade teacher said it should be done. You'd be surprised how easy it is when you do it your own way.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Money Matters for Writers: New Submission Service
From time to time I post about "Money Matters for Writers." Generally these posts cover services that writers pay for as opposed to being paid for. The purpose is not to tell readers what services are worth the money, but to point out the pros and cons writers might want to consider before making their own decision.
Several months ago I posted about submission services in general. Recently a new submission service called WordHustler came to my attention, so I checked it out.
The first thing that hit me was the difference in pricing from, say, Writer's Relief. Last I checked, WR was charging anywhere from $125 for a la carte services (a list of 25 targeted markets along with mailing labels and cover letter) to a few hundred for keeping your work in constant circulation. WordHustler fees for submitting by post or online run from $.99 for under four pages to $8.99 ($.10/page over 50). This includes printing and copying, postage, and SASE. They also boast a database of "more than 3000 literary markets" available for free.
So what does WordHustler provide for the fee? It appears that writers upload their work, then peruse the database to find markets (as opposed to a service that targets markets for you). Writers then choose the markets they want to submit to and WordHustler does the rest. WH estimates that a 120-page screenplay would cost approximately $52 to submit, the largest part of which is $29.99 for a "directory service" (like Writer's Market?) The second largest portion of the cost is printing at $18.
In evaluating the service I went by what I normally submit, which is a short story of about 20 pages. Postage usually runs me about $1.89 plus an SASE for the reply (why do I need the entire ms back when I have it in Word files) is 42 cents. That's $2.31. I've never calculated the cost of printing out the story, but if my algebra still serves me, if 120 pages costs $18 to print then 20 pages costs about $3.00. Office supplies, again based on estimates for 120 pages, would be approximately 17 cents. I haven't paid for a database in years. So far we're up to $5.48 for a submission. Time saved waiting in line––priceless.
Well, maybe, but I usually use the postage machines at my PO and there are rarely more than a couple people ahead of me. More significant though, I submit maybe 3 ms per year by post these days. Mostly I submit via e-mail or online submission systems, which are absolutely free.
WordHustler's database is free (so is Duotropes and I get that in my e-mail each week). WH advertises that you can target markets by searching the Market Finder. I wasn't able to target more than genre, however more could be available if you register. I didn't bother to do that as I'm not interested in the service and I don't need more e-mails from services I don't use. They also advertise that the database is kept up-to-date, though when I went through the list (which is extensive I'll admit), I came across a couple of dead links.
So, is it worth the price? That's a personal choice. As a purely business decision, submission services aren't very cost-effective. Consider that, even if you get that one submission to the famous journal that pays $150 using a service like Writer's Relief, you'd have to get two of those a year, just to break even. If you go the WordHustler route and send out 4 submissions a month of 20 pages, you're talking about $192 per year––but remember, the markets aren't targeted.
Of course, in the writing game money isn't always the sole form of profit. (In fact, if you are in it for the money, you may just as well quit right now.) You may need that one publication to build your self esteem, or paying for a service that gets you into a well-known journal could provide a credit that opens doors at others. For some, writing is a hobby they engage in at the end of an otherwise lucrative workday. They may have money to spend for a service but not the time to prepare and send submissions and track them on a spreadsheet. That's another case where a submission service might be valuable.
As with anything you spend your money on, value is in the eyes of the beholder. Just make sure your eyes are wide open when you evaluate the benefit a service might have for you.
Several months ago I posted about submission services in general. Recently a new submission service called WordHustler came to my attention, so I checked it out.
The first thing that hit me was the difference in pricing from, say, Writer's Relief. Last I checked, WR was charging anywhere from $125 for a la carte services (a list of 25 targeted markets along with mailing labels and cover letter) to a few hundred for keeping your work in constant circulation. WordHustler fees for submitting by post or online run from $.99 for under four pages to $8.99 ($.10/page over 50). This includes printing and copying, postage, and SASE. They also boast a database of "more than 3000 literary markets" available for free.
So what does WordHustler provide for the fee? It appears that writers upload their work, then peruse the database to find markets (as opposed to a service that targets markets for you). Writers then choose the markets they want to submit to and WordHustler does the rest. WH estimates that a 120-page screenplay would cost approximately $52 to submit, the largest part of which is $29.99 for a "directory service" (like Writer's Market?) The second largest portion of the cost is printing at $18.
In evaluating the service I went by what I normally submit, which is a short story of about 20 pages. Postage usually runs me about $1.89 plus an SASE for the reply (why do I need the entire ms back when I have it in Word files) is 42 cents. That's $2.31. I've never calculated the cost of printing out the story, but if my algebra still serves me, if 120 pages costs $18 to print then 20 pages costs about $3.00. Office supplies, again based on estimates for 120 pages, would be approximately 17 cents. I haven't paid for a database in years. So far we're up to $5.48 for a submission. Time saved waiting in line––priceless.
Well, maybe, but I usually use the postage machines at my PO and there are rarely more than a couple people ahead of me. More significant though, I submit maybe 3 ms per year by post these days. Mostly I submit via e-mail or online submission systems, which are absolutely free.
WordHustler's database is free (so is Duotropes and I get that in my e-mail each week). WH advertises that you can target markets by searching the Market Finder. I wasn't able to target more than genre, however more could be available if you register. I didn't bother to do that as I'm not interested in the service and I don't need more e-mails from services I don't use. They also advertise that the database is kept up-to-date, though when I went through the list (which is extensive I'll admit), I came across a couple of dead links.
So, is it worth the price? That's a personal choice. As a purely business decision, submission services aren't very cost-effective. Consider that, even if you get that one submission to the famous journal that pays $150 using a service like Writer's Relief, you'd have to get two of those a year, just to break even. If you go the WordHustler route and send out 4 submissions a month of 20 pages, you're talking about $192 per year––but remember, the markets aren't targeted.
Of course, in the writing game money isn't always the sole form of profit. (In fact, if you are in it for the money, you may just as well quit right now.) You may need that one publication to build your self esteem, or paying for a service that gets you into a well-known journal could provide a credit that opens doors at others. For some, writing is a hobby they engage in at the end of an otherwise lucrative workday. They may have money to spend for a service but not the time to prepare and send submissions and track them on a spreadsheet. That's another case where a submission service might be valuable.
As with anything you spend your money on, value is in the eyes of the beholder. Just make sure your eyes are wide open when you evaluate the benefit a service might have for you.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Creativity Drained: Try the Op-Ed
My creativity is drained these days from dealing with the illness of my elderly father and keeping a watchful eye on my Mom who is now in her apartment alone. While I've heard many writers say writing provides a release in times of difficulty and stress, I'm too distracted to think outside my own situation and too deep in the forest to write a story or essay about my situation that doesn't sound whiny or vitriolic.
Enter the op-ed piece. As David Shipley notes in the explanation of op-ed in the New York Times, the term comes, not from the word "opinion," but because the page appears opposite the editorial page. The idea is to collect opinions from average citizens not employed by the paper, though having "standing" on the topic you write about helps.
I published my first op-ed in the Inquirer following a year that started with shuttling my uncle to chemo/radiation treatments every weekday for eight weeks. Shortly after my father was hospitalized and then in rehab for nearly three months with a broken hip.Three months later that same uncle went into hospice care for cancer that had spread to his liver. Following the funeral lunch where my boomer siblings and cousins decided we did not want our lives prolonged past 85, I submitted "Boomers may choose not to prolong their lives." (One note about op-eds, the paper always chooses the title.)
Writing an op-ed was much easier than fiction because it required no creativity, only expressing my thoughts in an organized manner and quoting some statistics I found on the Internet. At the same time it was cathartic as it allowed me to work through the feelings I'd been struggling with the past year and more. I actually didn't care whether it was picked up, though I was pleasantly surprised when it was. Especially as it paid.
This brings up an important point about op-eds: it's hit-or-miss. While the ingredients that make a good op-ed piece, like timeliness and focus, aren't nearly as nebulous as fiction or creative nonfiction, much will depend on whether your piece happens to fit with the other editorials and op-eds being published that week. Editors receive so many submissions, they rarely hold them for future. They read them and if they fit––both in topic and length––your piece will be considered. If not, that's it.
The good news is that lower profit margins are causing many newspapers to include more average citizen op-eds because they cost less than a syndicated column or something by a famous ex-pol. They have probably also guessed that those who submit op-eds to newspapers are also the people who still read them with their morning coffee, and they want to hold onto those folks as long as they can.
The policy for simultaneous submissions varies. Some newspapers are fine with simultaneous submissions as long as the piece wouldn't appear in the same geographic area. Others, like The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, want an exclusive, but you also know pretty quickly if your piece has been accepted, so unless the topic is extremely time-sensitive, you can shop it somewhere else within the week.
I'm already running some ideas through my head regarding the ups and downs of our healthcare system. It will be nice if it gets into one of the major newspapers, but even if it doesn't, writing it will provide an escape valve for all the frustrations I've dealt with these past weeks.
Enter the op-ed piece. As David Shipley notes in the explanation of op-ed in the New York Times, the term comes, not from the word "opinion," but because the page appears opposite the editorial page. The idea is to collect opinions from average citizens not employed by the paper, though having "standing" on the topic you write about helps.
I published my first op-ed in the Inquirer following a year that started with shuttling my uncle to chemo/radiation treatments every weekday for eight weeks. Shortly after my father was hospitalized and then in rehab for nearly three months with a broken hip.Three months later that same uncle went into hospice care for cancer that had spread to his liver. Following the funeral lunch where my boomer siblings and cousins decided we did not want our lives prolonged past 85, I submitted "Boomers may choose not to prolong their lives." (One note about op-eds, the paper always chooses the title.)
Writing an op-ed was much easier than fiction because it required no creativity, only expressing my thoughts in an organized manner and quoting some statistics I found on the Internet. At the same time it was cathartic as it allowed me to work through the feelings I'd been struggling with the past year and more. I actually didn't care whether it was picked up, though I was pleasantly surprised when it was. Especially as it paid.
This brings up an important point about op-eds: it's hit-or-miss. While the ingredients that make a good op-ed piece, like timeliness and focus, aren't nearly as nebulous as fiction or creative nonfiction, much will depend on whether your piece happens to fit with the other editorials and op-eds being published that week. Editors receive so many submissions, they rarely hold them for future. They read them and if they fit––both in topic and length––your piece will be considered. If not, that's it.
The good news is that lower profit margins are causing many newspapers to include more average citizen op-eds because they cost less than a syndicated column or something by a famous ex-pol. They have probably also guessed that those who submit op-eds to newspapers are also the people who still read them with their morning coffee, and they want to hold onto those folks as long as they can.
The policy for simultaneous submissions varies. Some newspapers are fine with simultaneous submissions as long as the piece wouldn't appear in the same geographic area. Others, like The New York Times and The Wall Street Journal, want an exclusive, but you also know pretty quickly if your piece has been accepted, so unless the topic is extremely time-sensitive, you can shop it somewhere else within the week.
I'm already running some ideas through my head regarding the ups and downs of our healthcare system. It will be nice if it gets into one of the major newspapers, but even if it doesn't, writing it will provide an escape valve for all the frustrations I've dealt with these past weeks.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Useful Sites for Writers
Here are some useful sites for writers I've come across lately.
BookFox ranks literary journals by competitiveness. As the blogger notes, this isn't exhaustive ( I didn't see Salmagundi the lit journal of my daughter's alma mater, Skidmore) , and one could argue with some of the rankings, but it's a start.
Needless to say I wouldn't necessarily agree with his zine rankings. It's been my experience with the Million Writers Award that winners usually represent print journals that have either moved totally online or have an online counterpart.
From the Writers Relief Newsletter, scroll down to see the average submissions some of the better-known journals receive. I found these numbers a little surprising since Emily Thorp, Managing Editor of Sotto Voce mentions over 1,000 short story submissions for their first issue, and I know it has been going up steadily as she recently needed to hire more reviewers. Barbara Quinn of The Rose & Thorn always estimated at least 400 submissions per month. So if you've been accepted to a zine, you may not be competing against the biggest names, but don't let anyone have you think you didn't compete against big numbers.
If you think you'll never make a penny on your writing, check out Funds for Writers and consider subscribing to one or more of Editor Hope Clark's free newsletters (if you get the one for small markets in the next month, you'll see my cool new add for CROSSxCHECKING). These include nonfiction as well as fiction markets.
Back to the literary scene, a great site I discovered (forgive me if I've mentioned this before by it's worth it), reviews Literary Magazines for fiction writers. Click on one of the mags listed in alpahbetical order and get some great info including the type of story they usually publish. This can save loads of money on sample issues. Not that I wouldn't suggest reading a journal before submitting, but this helps you eliminate the ones that aren't a match for your style.
If you have sites you find helpful in your research or that have helped you achieve success, let us know in a comment.
BookFox ranks literary journals by competitiveness. As the blogger notes, this isn't exhaustive ( I didn't see Salmagundi the lit journal of my daughter's alma mater, Skidmore) , and one could argue with some of the rankings, but it's a start.
Needless to say I wouldn't necessarily agree with his zine rankings. It's been my experience with the Million Writers Award that winners usually represent print journals that have either moved totally online or have an online counterpart.
From the Writers Relief Newsletter, scroll down to see the average submissions some of the better-known journals receive. I found these numbers a little surprising since Emily Thorp, Managing Editor of Sotto Voce mentions over 1,000 short story submissions for their first issue, and I know it has been going up steadily as she recently needed to hire more reviewers. Barbara Quinn of The Rose & Thorn always estimated at least 400 submissions per month. So if you've been accepted to a zine, you may not be competing against the biggest names, but don't let anyone have you think you didn't compete against big numbers.
If you think you'll never make a penny on your writing, check out Funds for Writers and consider subscribing to one or more of Editor Hope Clark's free newsletters (if you get the one for small markets in the next month, you'll see my cool new add for CROSSxCHECKING). These include nonfiction as well as fiction markets.
Back to the literary scene, a great site I discovered (forgive me if I've mentioned this before by it's worth it), reviews Literary Magazines for fiction writers. Click on one of the mags listed in alpahbetical order and get some great info including the type of story they usually publish. This can save loads of money on sample issues. Not that I wouldn't suggest reading a journal before submitting, but this helps you eliminate the ones that aren't a match for your style.
If you have sites you find helpful in your research or that have helped you achieve success, let us know in a comment.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Google Copyright Settlement II: Does It Go Too Far?
In a recent post I discussed Google's legal settlement with copyrighted authors for digitizing the contents of research libraries online. To save you going through the entire post, here's a synopsis of the agreement as outlined in a NYRB article:
The wonder of the Internet is all the information available to anyone, anytime. This settlement essentially drags research back into the libraries where, again, resources will be limited (on one computer) or back into the purview of the few––usually professionals in the field––for whom the time or money for an individual license will be worth it.
Let's say I'm writing an article on the effects of Global Warming on certain Indigenous populations of Alaska. Despite the thesis-sounding description, I'm not a climatologist or an anthropologist and my piece isn't intended for a scholarly journal. I'm simply a freelance writer hoping to put a human face on a scientific topic, and I'm selling it as a feature to my local newspaper or to the publication of an environmentalist group or maybe even to a travel magazine.
On the human side I can interview people. On the scientific side I don't want to simply repeat information already contaminated by second and third hands. I Google (of course) climatology journal and find the site for The International Review of Climatology . Online I will find abstracts of articles from issues going back several years, however, if I want to read the entire article I have to pay for 24-hour access. Keep in mind I'm not writing an expose that will make the cover of TIME. I'm writing an article for which I will receive, at most, a couple hundred bucks, and what I want from an article is quotes and stats, and while the abstract will give me a general idea of what the article covers, it will not tell me whether it contains any quotes or stats I can use.
My second choice is to find a research library that subscribes to the journal online. So let's say I actually can find such a library in the nearest city, over an hour's commute away on a good traffic day. I get there and the computer with access to the journal I need is in use, and it remains in use the entire day.
Whether I pay to view several different articles or visit the city several days in a row, the hourly rate for this article simply won't be worth it. I will either give it up, or write the article doing what far too many do (but until now with less excuse), look for sources that take what someone else said out of context and possibly spread inaccurate information exponentially.
It seems to me there could have been a more workable middle road solution to this problem. I really don't know how scholarly journals like The International Review of Climatology work. If any of my readers does know I'd love to hear from them, but I assume it is similar to the way any other journal or magazine works. If my submission is accepted, I'm paid––that's it. I don't, for example, get paid for every time someone reads my story in Sotto Voce. Furthermore, every time a library purchases a journal in which my work has appeared, I don't receive a portion of the payment.
Current copyright law is lifetime+70 years. That can add up to well over a century before one of these articles enters the public domain.
To satisfy both the journals' subscription fees (though if you read my last article you saw how-out-of-line they can be), I could see having some rules in effect for a specific period of time, perhaps a year or at most two after the journal's publication date. After that I don't see why these digitized articles can't be open and free to the public for fair use.
I'm all for finding ways for writers to be paid, but this settlement feels like a 20-year step backwards. I think it goes too far.
- Google will continue to allow free access to digitized texts already in the public domain
- For copyrighted texts institutions will have to subscribe to a data bank which they can then make available on only one computer for free access
- Individuals may also purchase access through a consumer license
- Google will then retain about a third of the income with the registry distributing the rest among copyright holders
The wonder of the Internet is all the information available to anyone, anytime. This settlement essentially drags research back into the libraries where, again, resources will be limited (on one computer) or back into the purview of the few––usually professionals in the field––for whom the time or money for an individual license will be worth it.
Let's say I'm writing an article on the effects of Global Warming on certain Indigenous populations of Alaska. Despite the thesis-sounding description, I'm not a climatologist or an anthropologist and my piece isn't intended for a scholarly journal. I'm simply a freelance writer hoping to put a human face on a scientific topic, and I'm selling it as a feature to my local newspaper or to the publication of an environmentalist group or maybe even to a travel magazine.
On the human side I can interview people. On the scientific side I don't want to simply repeat information already contaminated by second and third hands. I Google (of course) climatology journal and find the site for The International Review of Climatology . Online I will find abstracts of articles from issues going back several years, however, if I want to read the entire article I have to pay for 24-hour access. Keep in mind I'm not writing an expose that will make the cover of TIME. I'm writing an article for which I will receive, at most, a couple hundred bucks, and what I want from an article is quotes and stats, and while the abstract will give me a general idea of what the article covers, it will not tell me whether it contains any quotes or stats I can use.
My second choice is to find a research library that subscribes to the journal online. So let's say I actually can find such a library in the nearest city, over an hour's commute away on a good traffic day. I get there and the computer with access to the journal I need is in use, and it remains in use the entire day.
Whether I pay to view several different articles or visit the city several days in a row, the hourly rate for this article simply won't be worth it. I will either give it up, or write the article doing what far too many do (but until now with less excuse), look for sources that take what someone else said out of context and possibly spread inaccurate information exponentially.
It seems to me there could have been a more workable middle road solution to this problem. I really don't know how scholarly journals like The International Review of Climatology work. If any of my readers does know I'd love to hear from them, but I assume it is similar to the way any other journal or magazine works. If my submission is accepted, I'm paid––that's it. I don't, for example, get paid for every time someone reads my story in Sotto Voce. Furthermore, every time a library purchases a journal in which my work has appeared, I don't receive a portion of the payment.
Current copyright law is lifetime+70 years. That can add up to well over a century before one of these articles enters the public domain.
To satisfy both the journals' subscription fees (though if you read my last article you saw how-out-of-line they can be), I could see having some rules in effect for a specific period of time, perhaps a year or at most two after the journal's publication date. After that I don't see why these digitized articles can't be open and free to the public for fair use.
I'm all for finding ways for writers to be paid, but this settlement feels like a 20-year step backwards. I think it goes too far.
Friday, January 23, 2009
Writing for a Living: Is It Possible? Does It Have to Be?
The Editors' Note in the recent issue of Narrative speaks to many issues I've blogged about here like the bookstore model of book selling and how online publications can make enough to pay their writers. Now I'm going to throw out a totally radical idea. Is it such a bad thing if most writers can't make a living at what they do?
It's the dream of everyone who puts pen to paper or, today, finger to keyboard, to someday quit the day job and write full-time. It amazes me how many still believe that getting that first novel published will set them on the road to writing for a living if not make them wealthy. Sadly, that is not the case. Yes there are the J.K. Rowlings and the Dan Browns, but every day they become more of an exception. Because publishers put little or nothing into sales and publicity for most of the books they publish, it can be tough to break even, and, for many, writing has become an expensive hobby where they spend more to publicize their books than they make in royalties.
That goes ten times over for those who write mostly short stories and poetry, because hardly any magazines pay beyond a token anymore and those that do lean toward the tried and true. And as more publishing moves online or to reading devices where the costs of production are less, the income is less as well, so pay will become even more meager.
Among writers there is a feeling of something having been lost when they can't sit down and spend most of each day writing, but I've begun to wonder whether writers having other jobs is necessarily such a bad thing. In some ways I think those flat New Yorker stories I criticize so often are the result of writers living cloistered lives. They spend so much time writing or in the company of other writers that they lose touch with what the rest of the world is doing and what they want to read about. They may try to write about Rosey the Waitress or Joey the Factory Worker, but Rosey and Joey come off a lot like Annie the Writer in a different setting.
Most of the writing submitted to online publications is by people who simply can't afford to write full-time and/or don't move in circles where they associate mostly with other writers or would-be writers. This, I think, adds a spark to the writing, a certain experimentation and often a depth of feeling that has been missing from much of the literary writing of the past couple of decades.
There is a problem with this model, though, when it comes to novels. As noted above, those who don't have the time to promote their novels won't be as widely read and while making little or no profit off writing might be acceptable, going into the red for promotion might lead to only well-to-do individuals being able to write and sell their novels. That would be sad.
On the other hand, if the model of book selling became exclusively POD or reading devices, while the profits would be less, promotion costs could be less as well. There are plenty of ways to promote books online like virtual tours, podcasts, websites, and blogs that are far less expensive than the old traditional book tours and signings, not to mention less time consuming.
The truth is people who really want to write will probably do it whether they make money at it or not, and just because writing is a "hobby", by that I mean something that one enjoys doing but from which they make little or no income, doesn't mean that writing has to be amateur in quality.
We may be well past the time when writers can make a living at what they do, but I'm not so sure that's a bad thing. What do you think?
It's the dream of everyone who puts pen to paper or, today, finger to keyboard, to someday quit the day job and write full-time. It amazes me how many still believe that getting that first novel published will set them on the road to writing for a living if not make them wealthy. Sadly, that is not the case. Yes there are the J.K. Rowlings and the Dan Browns, but every day they become more of an exception. Because publishers put little or nothing into sales and publicity for most of the books they publish, it can be tough to break even, and, for many, writing has become an expensive hobby where they spend more to publicize their books than they make in royalties.
That goes ten times over for those who write mostly short stories and poetry, because hardly any magazines pay beyond a token anymore and those that do lean toward the tried and true. And as more publishing moves online or to reading devices where the costs of production are less, the income is less as well, so pay will become even more meager.
Among writers there is a feeling of something having been lost when they can't sit down and spend most of each day writing, but I've begun to wonder whether writers having other jobs is necessarily such a bad thing. In some ways I think those flat New Yorker stories I criticize so often are the result of writers living cloistered lives. They spend so much time writing or in the company of other writers that they lose touch with what the rest of the world is doing and what they want to read about. They may try to write about Rosey the Waitress or Joey the Factory Worker, but Rosey and Joey come off a lot like Annie the Writer in a different setting.
Most of the writing submitted to online publications is by people who simply can't afford to write full-time and/or don't move in circles where they associate mostly with other writers or would-be writers. This, I think, adds a spark to the writing, a certain experimentation and often a depth of feeling that has been missing from much of the literary writing of the past couple of decades.
There is a problem with this model, though, when it comes to novels. As noted above, those who don't have the time to promote their novels won't be as widely read and while making little or no profit off writing might be acceptable, going into the red for promotion might lead to only well-to-do individuals being able to write and sell their novels. That would be sad.
On the other hand, if the model of book selling became exclusively POD or reading devices, while the profits would be less, promotion costs could be less as well. There are plenty of ways to promote books online like virtual tours, podcasts, websites, and blogs that are far less expensive than the old traditional book tours and signings, not to mention less time consuming.
The truth is people who really want to write will probably do it whether they make money at it or not, and just because writing is a "hobby", by that I mean something that one enjoys doing but from which they make little or no income, doesn't mean that writing has to be amateur in quality.
We may be well past the time when writers can make a living at what they do, but I'm not so sure that's a bad thing. What do you think?
Friday, January 2, 2009
Paying To Be Read, Cont'd
I posted a reference in the Poets & Writers Speakeasy Forum to my recent blog Narrative: Paying To Be Read. It got quite a discussion going. (That's not hard over there, and I did wish more people would come over and cast a vote.) You can check it out yourself, but a majority of the posters were like my writer friend Kat, who kindly left a comment on my post, saying she strongly opposed submission fees. Though most of the P&W posts were more vehement in style.
At first I simply posed the question of what members thought about the Narrative model of charging for submissions. I must admit, I became increasingly frustrated as more and more posters inveighed against this model, but, no matter how many different ways I posed the question, didn't even attempt to propose another model that would provide enough income for better publications to continue online. Worse, as seems to be commonplace in our current culture, posters took strong stands on how things "should" and "shouldn't" be without bothering to find out why they are the way they are.
My point in continuing this line of posting is not to be combative. We are at an important crossroads when it comes to writing and publishing with more and more of it moving to the Internet. So it would seem to me that we need to come up with some model that turns a profit or at least makes enough to pay contributors, unless we want creative writing to become solely the purview of the wealthy and "news reporting" the purview of opinionated bloggers.
I've been working with online publications in one capacity or another for nearly ten years. That is, nearly since their inception, and here are some things I've learned that need to be taken into consideration when examining this problem.
The Information Super Highway
What has drawn more and more people to the Internet is the possibility of getting information and exchanging ideas for free. This is such a part of the Internet culture that for a long time users felt entitled to download copyrighted materials like music and videos at no cost. While the government clamped down on that, the culture of getting things for free hasn't gone away. In fact, many of those who provide information online are dedicated to keeping it free, like Duotrope's Digest. Others, like newspapers, magazines, and literary journals, that might find it useful to charge reasonable subscription fees soon realize that the model simply doesn't work on the net. If your site isn't free, readers will find another one that is. Even venerable print journals like The Kenyon Review do not charge for their online version, nor do they restrict access to print subscribers.
Online Publications Can't Pay or Pay Very Little
The consequence is that online publications were among the first to publish work without payment. In the early days, as I noted in my first post on this issue, online publications received a lot of flack for this and, consequently, appealed to only "new and emerging writers"––read, writers who hadn't been published anywhere else. Ironically, several online publications now pay token fees––$25 or less––while more and more print journals pay nothing at all.
Little or no payment, whether by an online or print publication, has led to a two-tiered system where the big names gravitate to the big pay, filling the slots and making it tougher for new writers to break in. Some, like the New Yorker, don't even accept unsolicited or un-agented fiction. So unknown writers often remain unknown with little chance of breaking into the big-time, publishing only in online or small independent journals that may or may not even count as a rung on the ladder and from which they will never, ever make a career, sometimes despite thousands of dollars spent on workshops and MFAs.
Online Advertising Doesn't Work
Or maybe it works too well. The old media sold advertising based on the number of viewers/listeners/readers, but beyond primitive surveys it was difficult to pinpoint just how many customers at Macy's pre-Christmas sale read about it in the Main Street Observer. Internet advertising is based on click-throughs. I don't have media-wide statistics, but I can tell you that, whether Amazon Associates or AdSense, no online publication I worked with ever made more than pennies per month from these ads. Anecdotally, most people I know see these ads as spam machines and have learned to block them from their peripheral vision.
Let me point out that I am not talking here about anyone walking off with big profits, as one commenter on P&W sees it. Most of these journals are nonprofits and usually the majority of staff, if not the entire staff, work for free. Many Managing Edtiors even fund journals themselves, paying out hundreds of dollars for each issue in order to provide at least some small payment to writers.
So let me pose the question a little differently this time. Now that you know what doesn't work and why, any ideas on what could work? After many years of pondering this issue, I continue to come up dry. So let me know what you think.
At first I simply posed the question of what members thought about the Narrative model of charging for submissions. I must admit, I became increasingly frustrated as more and more posters inveighed against this model, but, no matter how many different ways I posed the question, didn't even attempt to propose another model that would provide enough income for better publications to continue online. Worse, as seems to be commonplace in our current culture, posters took strong stands on how things "should" and "shouldn't" be without bothering to find out why they are the way they are.
My point in continuing this line of posting is not to be combative. We are at an important crossroads when it comes to writing and publishing with more and more of it moving to the Internet. So it would seem to me that we need to come up with some model that turns a profit or at least makes enough to pay contributors, unless we want creative writing to become solely the purview of the wealthy and "news reporting" the purview of opinionated bloggers.
I've been working with online publications in one capacity or another for nearly ten years. That is, nearly since their inception, and here are some things I've learned that need to be taken into consideration when examining this problem.
The Information Super Highway
What has drawn more and more people to the Internet is the possibility of getting information and exchanging ideas for free. This is such a part of the Internet culture that for a long time users felt entitled to download copyrighted materials like music and videos at no cost. While the government clamped down on that, the culture of getting things for free hasn't gone away. In fact, many of those who provide information online are dedicated to keeping it free, like Duotrope's Digest. Others, like newspapers, magazines, and literary journals, that might find it useful to charge reasonable subscription fees soon realize that the model simply doesn't work on the net. If your site isn't free, readers will find another one that is. Even venerable print journals like The Kenyon Review do not charge for their online version, nor do they restrict access to print subscribers.
Online Publications Can't Pay or Pay Very Little
The consequence is that online publications were among the first to publish work without payment. In the early days, as I noted in my first post on this issue, online publications received a lot of flack for this and, consequently, appealed to only "new and emerging writers"––read, writers who hadn't been published anywhere else. Ironically, several online publications now pay token fees––$25 or less––while more and more print journals pay nothing at all.
Little or no payment, whether by an online or print publication, has led to a two-tiered system where the big names gravitate to the big pay, filling the slots and making it tougher for new writers to break in. Some, like the New Yorker, don't even accept unsolicited or un-agented fiction. So unknown writers often remain unknown with little chance of breaking into the big-time, publishing only in online or small independent journals that may or may not even count as a rung on the ladder and from which they will never, ever make a career, sometimes despite thousands of dollars spent on workshops and MFAs.
Online Advertising Doesn't Work
Or maybe it works too well. The old media sold advertising based on the number of viewers/listeners/readers, but beyond primitive surveys it was difficult to pinpoint just how many customers at Macy's pre-Christmas sale read about it in the Main Street Observer. Internet advertising is based on click-throughs. I don't have media-wide statistics, but I can tell you that, whether Amazon Associates or AdSense, no online publication I worked with ever made more than pennies per month from these ads. Anecdotally, most people I know see these ads as spam machines and have learned to block them from their peripheral vision.
Let me point out that I am not talking here about anyone walking off with big profits, as one commenter on P&W sees it. Most of these journals are nonprofits and usually the majority of staff, if not the entire staff, work for free. Many Managing Edtiors even fund journals themselves, paying out hundreds of dollars for each issue in order to provide at least some small payment to writers.
So let me pose the question a little differently this time. Now that you know what doesn't work and why, any ideas on what could work? After many years of pondering this issue, I continue to come up dry. So let me know what you think.
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Money Matters: Writing Classes: Are They Worth the Money
I wrote this post in June for Roses & Thorns, but I receive so many questions about this and see it come up so often in forums, I thought it was worth re-posting.
Click on the title to read the entire article.
Click on the title to read the entire article.
Friday, August 8, 2008
Money Matters for Writers: Submission Services
This is the first in a series I'll be adding to from time to time on money matters for writers. This blog being devoted to creative writing, "money matters" refers to spending money on your writing rather than making it. Today, creative writers will be lucky to pay for paper and print cartridges with what they can make from their writing. On the other hand, there are a wealth––as it were–of ways to spend money, and in this series I will try to help you evaluate what is and is not worth the price.
You've read the ads in writer's magazines, I'm sure, for submission services. Depending on what you sign up for and what you can afford to pay, they will do anything from preparing a list of publications you can submit to on your own to preparing a cover letter and submitting for you, as well as tracking your submissions.
Any writer who has gotten serious about the submission process will see the allure in this. Not only is it time consuming to check out various guidelines, make sure your work is formatted properly, and keep proper records, the hardest part can be deciding what publications seem to be the best match for your style. On the other hand, the services can be quite pricey, and given that most publications pay little or nothing, you'll want to think long and hard whether it's worth it, especially as none of the ones I checked out provided any guarantees.
How it works
A little over a year ago I decided to take the plunge and submit my work to one of these services just to get a quote. As everyone should, I confirmed first that there was no reading fee and no obligation to pay for any services if my work was deemed acceptable. My work was accepted (though I did wonder if anyone is ever turned down) and a price quoted of a few hundred dollars for full service, which would include manuscript prep, developing and sending cover letters, keeping my work circulating to a series of targeted publications, maintaining records I could check online, and providing itemized expense lists. Basically, from what I could gather, full service meant you essentially sent in your work and never touched it again until, hopefully, it was published.
Given that the price included postage on the submission, and the SASE, I wouldn't say it was out of line with services provided, but with my business background it was more than I could justify based on the likely return. However, for the purpose of experimentation, I later did try a lower priced option for a little over $100.
The service provided
For that fee I was provided with a list of 25 markets (and a bonus of 4 more), a sheet of mailing labels, a sample cover letter, and tips for submitting. I prepared and printed my story submission, wrote up the cover letter and printed it out, prepared the SASE, and mailed each submission.
For my story of about 25 pages, it cost around $1.80 to send each submission plus the $.42 for the SASE, adding up to a grand total, rounded, of about $75 in addition to what I paid for the service. That doesn't include, of course, the cost of the envelopes, paper, and printing.
What I learned
Being both an editor and booster of all things online, the first thing I did was check out which publications on the list accepted online submissions. At the time there were about five, but I received a couple of replies that asked me to submit online the next time. That eliminated some postage, and I don't think the cost of the individual labels that went unused is worth quibbling over.
Most of the labels I received were for publications I'd submitted to in the past–not this particular piece because I had to provide a list to them of places I'd already submitted it to––but places I'd submitted other work unsuccessfully. Frankly, it was a list of all the places anyone would want to be published. Whether they really did "target" my work is anyone's guess. Six plus months plus later, I haven't received any acceptances. There are four still outstanding, but at this point I'm not holding out much hope, especially as they are some of the biggest names.
Was it worth it?
As with anything else, value is in the eye of the beholder. First off, the service I used estimated 100 submissions for one acceptance. Based on those numbers an acceptance from the first 25 submissions wasn't to be expected, and were I to go for those 100 submissions the full-service would definitely be the better bargain.
The question is, did the service provide anything I couldn't do myself. It's hard to know without going through the cycle again, but I suspect the next round of publications they'd send me would be one tier down and so on. You get the idea. It's really the basic idea behind the submission process, start high and work down. The difference is, I never peppered the market with so many submissions at one time, but I certainly could if I had a mind to.
Another point to keep in mind is that all of these were print publications. Submitting online is much less expensive and researching the markets is a lot easier. As more publications go online or accept/prefer online submissions, the value of these services will diminish considerably.
As for record keeping both for submissions and expenses, I've kept spreadsheets for years. Any writer who can't be bothered, probably shouldn't be in the business.
So to summarize, these services do provide what they promise. None of them promises to get your work into print. They simply promise to do the drudge work so you can spend more valuable time on your writing. If that's what you want and you can afford it, then it's worth considering. Just remember, there's no more guarantee of publication than if you did the work yourself, and you are not likely to come even close to breaking even money-wise.
See Nannette's article on evaluating writing classes on another blog.
You've read the ads in writer's magazines, I'm sure, for submission services. Depending on what you sign up for and what you can afford to pay, they will do anything from preparing a list of publications you can submit to on your own to preparing a cover letter and submitting for you, as well as tracking your submissions.
Any writer who has gotten serious about the submission process will see the allure in this. Not only is it time consuming to check out various guidelines, make sure your work is formatted properly, and keep proper records, the hardest part can be deciding what publications seem to be the best match for your style. On the other hand, the services can be quite pricey, and given that most publications pay little or nothing, you'll want to think long and hard whether it's worth it, especially as none of the ones I checked out provided any guarantees.
How it works
A little over a year ago I decided to take the plunge and submit my work to one of these services just to get a quote. As everyone should, I confirmed first that there was no reading fee and no obligation to pay for any services if my work was deemed acceptable. My work was accepted (though I did wonder if anyone is ever turned down) and a price quoted of a few hundred dollars for full service, which would include manuscript prep, developing and sending cover letters, keeping my work circulating to a series of targeted publications, maintaining records I could check online, and providing itemized expense lists. Basically, from what I could gather, full service meant you essentially sent in your work and never touched it again until, hopefully, it was published.
Given that the price included postage on the submission, and the SASE, I wouldn't say it was out of line with services provided, but with my business background it was more than I could justify based on the likely return. However, for the purpose of experimentation, I later did try a lower priced option for a little over $100.
The service provided
For that fee I was provided with a list of 25 markets (and a bonus of 4 more), a sheet of mailing labels, a sample cover letter, and tips for submitting. I prepared and printed my story submission, wrote up the cover letter and printed it out, prepared the SASE, and mailed each submission.
For my story of about 25 pages, it cost around $1.80 to send each submission plus the $.42 for the SASE, adding up to a grand total, rounded, of about $75 in addition to what I paid for the service. That doesn't include, of course, the cost of the envelopes, paper, and printing.
What I learned
Being both an editor and booster of all things online, the first thing I did was check out which publications on the list accepted online submissions. At the time there were about five, but I received a couple of replies that asked me to submit online the next time. That eliminated some postage, and I don't think the cost of the individual labels that went unused is worth quibbling over.
Most of the labels I received were for publications I'd submitted to in the past–not this particular piece because I had to provide a list to them of places I'd already submitted it to––but places I'd submitted other work unsuccessfully. Frankly, it was a list of all the places anyone would want to be published. Whether they really did "target" my work is anyone's guess. Six plus months plus later, I haven't received any acceptances. There are four still outstanding, but at this point I'm not holding out much hope, especially as they are some of the biggest names.
Was it worth it?
As with anything else, value is in the eye of the beholder. First off, the service I used estimated 100 submissions for one acceptance. Based on those numbers an acceptance from the first 25 submissions wasn't to be expected, and were I to go for those 100 submissions the full-service would definitely be the better bargain.
The question is, did the service provide anything I couldn't do myself. It's hard to know without going through the cycle again, but I suspect the next round of publications they'd send me would be one tier down and so on. You get the idea. It's really the basic idea behind the submission process, start high and work down. The difference is, I never peppered the market with so many submissions at one time, but I certainly could if I had a mind to.
Another point to keep in mind is that all of these were print publications. Submitting online is much less expensive and researching the markets is a lot easier. As more publications go online or accept/prefer online submissions, the value of these services will diminish considerably.
As for record keeping both for submissions and expenses, I've kept spreadsheets for years. Any writer who can't be bothered, probably shouldn't be in the business.
So to summarize, these services do provide what they promise. None of them promises to get your work into print. They simply promise to do the drudge work so you can spend more valuable time on your writing. If that's what you want and you can afford it, then it's worth considering. Just remember, there's no more guarantee of publication than if you did the work yourself, and you are not likely to come even close to breaking even money-wise.
See Nannette's article on evaluating writing classes on another blog.
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