Some Thoughts on Charging for One’s Writing

This morning I woke to a DM from a fellow fiction writer, telling me that they’d be laying low for a while. Apparently, a whole drama has played out in the fiction community while I was asleep. A person (the same one who’d DM’d me) began to ask writers for money (and a rather hefty sum at that) to be featured on a compilation publication that has only been open for a couple of months and boasts a thousand subscribers at best.

I won’t talk about the drama. If you want to get up to speed, check out S.E. Reid’s note from yesterday.

What I want to talk about is being paid for one’s writing.

Specifically, asking for it.

Because, you see, I’ve been following the person behind SOTB (the compilation ‘stack I mentioned) from way before it existed. And I’ve seen him ask for money for his writing several times, through both notes and posts.

Thankfully, not many other people here do the same thing. Substack is a positive, non-mercantile space in that way. But some do. And it makes the rest of us bitter.

Why?

Because it’s in poor taste.

I don’t ask for money for my writing. I have only ever gotten paid for one short story and two essays, and the $$$ was enough to pay for exactly three lunches.

But I do pay for it. I pay for my newsletters, I buy a hundred books a year, I pay for my comics and audiobooks and shows.

I believe in paying artists.

I don’t believe in paying someone who’s written a half-decent fantasy comedy series then almost immediately hid it behind a paywall and then started a so-called “fiction writing community” you have to pay a premium to join.

That kind of behavior feels cheap. When you only have ten posts published, no previous publication experience, no books or stories published (traditionally or otherwise), and yet you ask people to pay for your work on a consistent basis, it feels as though you’re only in it for the money.

And if you’re only in it for the money, then your heart’s not in the work you’re doing.

So why would we pay?

Most of us are not well-known writers. But there are bestselling writers here. National Book Award winners, Booker winners, household names. Actual masters of our craft. And even they have a few hundred paid subscribers at best. Which speaks to how difficult it is for writers to support themselves, even when they provide real value to people’s lives.

Fellow writers, I’m not telling you to stop asking people for their money. Sometimes the best way to get what you really want is to ask.

But when you do it, please, for the love of good art, have some decency.

Let me be brutally honest. Being asked to pay for someone’s writing has never swayed me to do it. Here’s what has:

— writing that makes my heart sing

—writing that enriches my experience

—writing filled with love for people

—smart writing that changes the paradigm of my thinking

—hilarious writing that sheds light on human suffering

—writing that feels worked on, poured over, beaten, bled on, and in that way made strong

I think the point here is simple.

Want people to pay for your writing? Then do the best you can. Write with your whole being, not just your money-hungry fingertips.

And don’t. Be. Desperate.