Over past few days I have been dealing with a flu-gone-wild. It is not exactly the way I wanted to spend my days, but sometimes cold happens. The good news, if there can be any, is that I had a lot of time on my hands to watch a lot of video. In my case it is usually one of the four shows: Wallander, Sherlock Holmes (with Jeremy Brett), Poirot and House M.D. It is mostly House MD, because well, I am a House MD junkie.
As luck would have it, I was watching season one (for probably the 25th time) and came across probably my favorite episode — DNR– where John Henry Giles, a saxophonist, falls sick. He goes to the hospital. There is a lot of drama, and somewhere along the way he tells Dr. House:
The reason normal people got wives and kids and hobbies, whatever. That’s because they don’t got that one thing that hits them that hard and that true. I got music, you got this. The thing you think about all the time, the thing that keeps you south of normal. Yeah, makes us great, makes us the best. All we miss out on is everything else.
When I look back at my own life as a writer, I somehow related to that “one thing” theory. Sometimes I wonder if that is my curse. But mostly I think of it as my blessing. Thinking, obsessing, composing — writing it all down on crevices of my brain before putting it to paper (or computer.) There are days when I fall asleep thinking about a story, only to find the entire story appearing magically which I am asleep and getting up in the middle of the night and writing it all down on a piece of paper that always is next to my bed. It is a process that is all-consuming.
It is that “one thing” that made me read and re-read magazines, books and anything I could get my hands of in the 1980s India and learn how to write. Not just write, but think and write and write. It mattered to me more than anything — love, family, home and even my own identity.
I didn’t do it because I thought I would make some money or get paid to do it. Thirty-five years later, I still do it because I don’t really have a choice, because I don’t really know any other way. Writing, painting, creating –creators don’t do it because they want to make money. Creativity is not a profession, it is a gift. It was, is and always will be a very selfish act.
And the reason why I bring this up is because of the raging debate around writers, freelancers and how they are getting paid. I am bringing this up because of all the handwringing about the changing landscape. When I see all the arguments — whether it is Nate Thayer’s story about The Atlantic editor asking him to write for free in exchange for exposure, or The Atlantic’s Alexis Madrigal’s story of being a digital editor/writer or Felix Salmon’s unvarnished truth about the problems of online journalism — I empathize with each and every one of them. (My colleague Mathew Ingram has his nuanced take on the situation, and is worth reading.)
End of freelance?
Why? Because I sat on all four sides of this table. I have been an unpaid freelancer. I was a mistreated poorly paid staffer. And I was also employed by a magazine that was gorging at the dot-com orgy. And thanks to a lucky set of circumstances, I have been an employer. I have written for the paper and I have written for digital. I have been paid and I have been the payer. I have been a writer and a businessman.
What my changing roles have made me aware of is the reality of today’s media business (something we’ll be talking about at our paidContent Live conference on April 17 in New York). Back in the day when it was an all- print business, the newspapers were always looking for ways to fill pages to support more advertising. More advertising meant more broadsheets to fill and more money to spend on whatever went next to advertising.
Magazines charged a heck-of-a-lot more money than papers. The more ads they sold, the more money they doled out to the writers. If I remember, one of the Red Herring issues in 2000 put Bride magazine to shame. It was full of so many ads that I had to work on four stories for the issue — just to support the advertising. I was not privy to the freelance budget but the freelancers at Red Herring were getting paid quite handsomely. Then, advertising vanished and so did the freelance money and eventually the publications themselves.
In other words, the spending on editorial was in direct correlation with the advertising dollars. Today, the ad dollars are hard to find, both in print and on the web. Sure, more dollars are being shoveled towards online properties, but then there are more zebras around this pond. Media publications are fighting with YouTube, Twitter, Facebook, Google and Amazon for ad dollars. But, then you knew that already.
Frankly, it sucks. Not just sucks, it royally sucks. It boils my blood just thinking about the changes — but change it is and one has to live with it. And that is the biggest reality of our times. Maybe the reality of this post-blogging, post-Twitter world where words exist for mere minutes, freelance writing isn’t an option anymore. As Felix Salmon so eloquently writes:
The lesson here, then, is not that digital journalism doesn’t pay. It does pay, and often it pays better than print journalism. Rather, the lesson is that if you want to earn money in digital journalism, you’re probably going to have to get a full-time job somewhere.
My personal view, shaped by the my own experience, is that if you are going to take freelance contributions, then pay something — just as a sign of respect (if not the true worth) of a writer’s capability.
We have used freelance writers in the past and have always paid them — not a lot because we didn’t have a lot — but then we came to the conclusion that it didn’t really make sense in today’s always-on, constantly updating media ecosystem. We tried the monthly contract model but in the end decided that we want to adopt an in-house model. Today we have a few guest writers who write because of their love of our site and they do it for free. But we are still a team of our own.
Brave old (new) world
The reasons are actually pretty simple. Our roots are in blogging and we have a certain view of the world. In order to keep a consistent voice (not editorial style), we need to have a team that has an ability to look at the world through the same lens. That identifies us to our community of readers and it also helps us stay true to who we are and what we believe in. And most importantly it allows us to build a metabolic rate that suits us and create products that make sense to us.
We know that advertising isn’t the golden gateway, so we decided to go the way of paid content via our research business. And because we don’t put all our eggs in advertising, it means that we don’t have to be beholden to the heroin of page views and pray at the temple of traffic. Others chose to do things differently — but we have decided to go down a different path.
Tomorrow, if they take everything away from me — the company, the job, the fame, the money — and leave me with a piece of paper. I know I will be 15 again, I will still write. And I still will have a reason to live. Just like Nate, Alexis, Felix and every other writer who gets up every morning to do that one thing… just one thing.
26 thoughts on “Doing that one thing”
Om, I admire you guys that can write for a leaving. I enjoy blogging because I enjoy learning the art of writing while sharing my own knowledge with others. I’ve tried the whole write for money thing and really didn’t enjoy the experience. It’s given me a whole level of respect for the guys you mentioned, most of whom I read. For the most part they churn out quality work while being able to make a living doing it.
Thanks for your support @keith
There is a line from the great comedy “Office Space” where the main character recalls career advice he received from a school counselor: “If you had a million dollars what would you do?” The question and the answer isn’t about the money, but about our inner passion, “that one thing.”
Thanks @hamza. What a delightful comment.
I love to read your posts. With this one, you have my mind and heart….
I know what it is to write when you are asleep, and to wake up to put it down on that piece of paper by your bedside. I lived through the 1980s India, and am an IT professional. Now, I obsess over poetry and creating word-art that will be greater than the words themselves.
I blog at paintedpenguins.wordpress.com. Thanks for sharing your thoughts here.
@mj thanks for your attention and glad to see you have found your one thing too. Good luck doing that.
What an excellent read tonight. Thank you for the perspective.
Thank you @marci
You are a master of your craft Om. Nicely done! My best, Andy
You are too Generous Andy. But thanks for your encouragement.
Get Well Soon!
Once again, it feels as if the societal changes taking place are killing honorable professions and narrowing peoples’ abilities to have and keep a stable profession. I think writers and writing will never entirely disappear. Technological gizmos are just that. They won’t outlast the written word. When the electricity goes out and power sources fail, so will people’s IPad, IPhones, tablets, Nooks and every other mechanical piece of junk we’ve invented. When that happens, writers, journalists and others can break out their supply of candles and sit at the kitchen table to do what they do best! Write with pen and paper! Never give up the gift!
It’s more than just advertising. Advertising lubricated the means of production, but it’s really the ability to publish that’s the change driver here. As it turns out, lots and lots of people are capable of writing well. It was never that ability alone that defined success. In the age of the Internet, it is more That One Thing that drives those of us who write.
I’m in my 50’s. I know a lot of people who used to earn a decent living by crafting words. Many of them can no longer do that. They fall into two schools. One rails against change and offers bitter complaints that they are unable to earn a living; the others reinvent themselves, they find new ways to do the One Thing. Generally they’re not earning as much as they were 15 years ago, but they’re getting by and seem generally happy.
If using words to communicate is your One Thing, then all the changes we face are significant, but not central. If making big bucks from wordsmithing is your One Thing, then maybe it’s time to find new skills that offer better compensation.
Thank you for a great post.
Great, insightful article. Thank you.
I’m much the same way, really. I have a passion for writing and for technology, and it is in these ventures that I spend my free time. I’ve been a paid part-time staff blogger for a few mobile sites, both of which I’ve left because it either evolved into, or was never really, a good fit for me. I’d ideally like to write for a larger site (perhaps like GigaOm) someday which will allow me the freedom to write about essentially whatever I want, and have fun while getting paid to do something that I love.
Right now, I don’t really get paid to write, but I still write. I started my own site, and write anywhere from 1,000 to 10,000 words per week. I’ve made maybe $30 on that venture thus far. Fortunately, I have a career which pays the bills, and until I can swing the full-time writing job that’s necessary to prosper in this economy, I’ll always be writing in what little spare time I have. I do it for free now because it is that one thing that if I won the lottery tomorrow and had enough money to pay the bills, writing is what I would do.
I’ve been very fortunate along the way. I have an open freelance arrangement with Popular Mechanics, and have a few pending (paid) articles there. Even if those were unpaid, I’d do them just to get my name out there, but ultimately we’re all seeking that in, a way to get paid to do what we love, and I agree with your stance that all sites which are able should pay something, even if it’s just a little something, to recognize the work and effort that goes into putting words on a screen. Because really, even smaller sites are making some money on each story that’s published.
Anyway, keep up the good work, Om.
“One thing” is fine as a concept, as it gives direction to a career, for example. But I think a more useful word is “interest.” It’s more flexible, potentially more pervasive, more encompassing a word for that which makes for true happiness: “interest”, plain and simple.
It doesn’t have to be limited to “one thing.” Whatever else you’re interested in adds to your joy of living. So why not simply be interested in many things?
Because unlike the interest(s), that one thing is a something you think about everyday. You go to sleep with thinking about it. You wake up with thinking about it. It is like obsession. Like some form of craziness. Creativity is a gift, but it is also a curse.
You can’t stop. Maybe pause, but it always returns back to you.
I fully appreciate the endless piles of notes, papers, and text files that pile up over the years; I get such joy from writing even the smallest complete thought. I definitely have the curse/blessing.
The hard part, for me, is to keep those straight when I don’t have an outlet for them. If I don’t take time to capture thoughts throughout the day I go crazy, and every week where I finish one simple thing makes me feel like I just finished a marathon.
Even when we do other things, even when the notes pile up around us, even if we can’t seem to do anything except “make the clackity noise” in a dark room…somehow we are always driven back to that “one thing.” I often struggle with the motivation to wordsmith even though I know it’s like a shot of adrenaline into my day – do you ever struggle with the masochistic pull to stop writing notes?
…it never works, I have to keep writing, but I thought I would ask. Thank you for your excellent work!
@CKHicks…. How about starting your own blog? Even if 1 more person reads your words, why not. Better than losing those notes. My 2c. Keep trying….
Excellent, Om, and I know well the feelings expressed here having just written about it this week myself. http://thepomoblog.com/index.php/the-artists-lament/ I do feel that the concept of “freelance” is about to be validated in a whole new way, while the ecosystem that used to be in place crumbles entirely. Working for yourself, especially as an artist, is the way it’s meant to be, for expression that is limited by external restraints feeds only the stomach, while artists’ need is the soul. What we haven’t yet discovered is an adequate quid pro quo for the free use of our creations. I have faith that we’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, all I know is that the nurture and growth of one’s personal brand is job one.
I think journalist, the really good ones, loved the craft, and were paid well. Right now the ‘paid well” aspect, for whatever reason, is missing, and I think that has a way of fewer kids wanting to be journalist, and the profession being marginalized. Also it creates a void where media outlets have to worry about how to make money like never before, and that is a stress that undermines the craft. In the old days money poured in from advertising, there was ‘church and state” set up between editorial and advertising, journalists were paid well, and could do great reporting, it was a highly sought after profession. Now the very economics of the business has changed, great, throught-ful journalism is being marginalized. Less smart kids want to enter the field. So while there are a lot of pluses in this new world, there are also a lot of minuses. And I think hanging in the balance is the art of good writing, objectivity, gum-shoe reporting, keeping companies and organizations accountable, and fewer and fewer really great, thought provoking stories.
Thanks for your comment. I couldn’t agree with you more and also at the same time point out that we are experiencing what the travel agents and stock brokers saw in late 1990s. The downside of digital is also its upside. More competition, fewer dollars being spent. It is clearly challenging.
The only thing I would disagree with you is that folks who are going to be around are going to be aces of their game.
Nicely written Om. I’ve been a fan of yours since the Business 2.0 days. A couple ideas that may be relevant:
1. there is an old article that suggests that if an artist can get 1000 true fans they can earn $100k/yr and live alright. Could this be a hint for how freelancers might survive? (http://www.kk.org/thetechnium/archives/2008/03/1000_true_fans.php)
2. The internet, via search engines, makes it possible for a freelancer to be found even before richer media outlets. This is true if they practice Inbound Marketing techniques (SEO) and specialize (i.e. choose keywords they can win on for their esoteric niche). Indeed, such specialization is the key to finding those 1000 fans that also share this esoteric interest and are willing to pay for the best written content on it.
Om, I love your perspective from working in the industry for so many years. I come away impressed at your honesty and a bit discouraged that it’s so difficult to make a living writing. Then again, I don’t possess the skills to play baseball, paint or make movies for a living either.
I too wake up thinking about topics to write about and certainly stay up much too late jotting down those thoughts that just won’t be put back in the box.
Keep writing and we’ll keep reading.
I don’t think I’d recommend House MD while recuperating — too much temptation to hypochondria. But thanks for your thoughts on “that one thing” and the changing economics of “The Writing Life”… and thanks for good links to others thoughts. Be well.
There is that question I heard come up a few times now at different places. «Do you want to write badly enough, to take a job as waiter and write over night? Or would you only do it if you are employed by The New York Times?» I admire everyone who follows, or better hunts their dreams down and being happy in his life.
Well said Om. The curse/calling of creativity is a human obsession. I myself have gone boom and bust pursuing my own vision. But in the end, the process (not the profit) is what brings the most joy to existence.