The idea of being a writer is romantic. Fame and fortune seem only a few successful blog posts, or a book, away. But don’t fool yourself. Few writers get rich writing. Most eke out a very modest living, writes Ivo Vegter:
I am an independent journalist, specialising in opinion columns. Sounds fun, right? It is. It is challenging, intellectually stimulating, and it keeps me sharp. But if you want to make a living, I’d recommend becoming a doctor, a lawyer, a stockbroker or a plumber. If you write, try corporate public relations, or government communications tenders.
Integrity has great value, but it does not pay very well.
Real rates for writing have tumbled in the 20 years since I got my start on this hamster wheel. There are successful writers, but much like with sports stars or actors, for every one that makes it, a thousand grind away in relative poverty and obscurity.
There are millions of writers on the Internet who’ll do it for free, and some of them are good. The market is highly competitive. Hacks who churn out vast quantities of “content” of adequate quality fight over every cent on the table.
Writers who work for free inevitably get paid by someone else, whose interests they promote. Whether it’s a company, a government, or a non-governmental organisation, there’s always something that they’ll either actively promote, or avoid criticising.
That makes true independence a rare commodity. It is intellectually rewarding, but it is a financial sacrifice. Ironically, having an opinion is easily confused with being paid by a special interest. That’s why my credibility as a columnist hinges on the fact that nobody can prove me to be a shill.
That means earning my income solely from publishers and event managers, for writing and speaking. The upside is the freedom to act with integrity, and form opinions based on what I truly believe to be right. The downside is an irregular and often meagre income.
It is awesome to write a book, for example, but few earn their authors much more than a ticket to the speaking circuit. Talks can pay well, but they’re few and far between when you’re not a comedian or a motivational speaker. And again, as the popular TED talks prove by paying everyone involved in their production except speakers, thousands will do it for free, often because they have something else to sell.
As an independent writer and speaker, a month in which I match the last salary I earned as a full-time journalist, a decade ago, is a good month. I can afford a credit card, but not a home loan. I can afford a car, but not a new one. You need to live modestly, because not being able to pay the rent on time has consequences. When a foreign country assesses you for a visa, they look at your assets (none) and your employment (self), and conclude that you’re a likely illegal immigrant.
So, when I was admitted to hospital recently with serious medical problems, my first concern besides an untimely death was financial. Doctors are expensive, especially when faced with a tricky case. And instead of lavish insurance designed for a world in which employers are required by law to pay half, all I had was my readers.
I turned to them for help. I asked them to donate towards my medical expenses, if they thought my modest contribution to the public discourse had value. I asked them to save my life. And they did. Within a day, my doctors were paid in full.
One vicious critic of mine callously sneered that I should feel guilty “begging for alms”. But the way I see it, I’d have a lot more to feel guilty about if I relied on a system that forced people to pay for my care on pain of imprisonment, instead of asking people who enjoy my work to pay what they can afford.
As I lay awake on a darkened ward, writing thank you notes to my readers, all the financial hardship and online viciousness seemed worth it. An independent writers’ world is sometimes scary, and often hard, but I wouldn’t trade my accountability to my readers, and their faith in my integrity, for the world. And because they saved my life, I know the relationship is voluntary and mutual.
I used to have to deny being a shill for whatever special interest group happened to agree with my opinion. Now I have a better answer: I work for my readers, in every sense.
Medically, I’m not out of the woods yet, but I’m getting better, thanks to my 21st-century “mutual insurance”. And I know that while I may one day retire, I will never have to sell out.
* Follow Ivo on Twitter at @ivovegter. You can also visit his website here.
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