I opened this blog at the end. And I promised I’d double-back in my next post to something earlier in the writing process…something nice about generating new work, or setting, or something. But, I didn’t. I’m still stuck at the end.
Not too long after this first post, I received an alumni questionnaire from my graduate program. The space marked current employment was highlighted by the director—the second most common question among current students (second only to “How do I get published?”) is “How will I make a living?” Since my first blog post covered the publishing angle (insofar as I grok it), I figured I should cover what I know about how to pay rent and stay fed while calling yourself a writer.
I don’t live off my writing (yet). I’ve meet a few writers who are fortunate enough to do so. But most I know are like me. They don’t (yet). We usually cobble together something that resembles a living by hustling for different projects, little jobs. It’s exciting, in its way, and definitely liberating: when I’m working like this, I can take holidays when I want (and call it work), go out to coffee during the day (and call it work), stay up late and sleep in a bit (and call it work). But it’s also month-to-month, with no guarantee and zero security: a rich project can dry up any second or I can wind up without any responses to any pitches and have nothing I can call work in any context**.
What I know (and have done, in most of these cases), falls into one of three categories.
You write other stuff for money (for ease, I’m including “You edit other things for money” under this heading)
- Freelance articles
Most obviously, freelance work is number one here. I’m not going to say much here—there’s enough to fill entire books on this, and there are tons of new variations, including being a paid blogger (if only!). In short: get clips, if you don’t have any. Exploit any expertise you may have, particularly in less glamorous niches (like, everyone like to write for fashion magazines, but the trade journal for fertilizer executive (you get what I mean) needs articles as well. Be prepared to hustle constantly and think waaaaaaaaay ahead (most editorial calendars plan their Valentine’s Day issues at Halloween, Halloween at Memorial Day, and so forth).
- Technical writing
This could be something as exciting as writing a play manual for a video game, or as dreary as translating developer speak into a README file. When I started, it was the dot com boom, and all you needed was some writing experience in any area and the ability to run Microsoft Office. The industry has changed quite a bit since. There are now classes and certifications in technical writing, which I think you should probably at least Google before you apply for any technical writing jobs. I don’t think they are necessary, though. I’d try a project on spec (um, not get paid) to get a sample or two and to even see if this is the sort of thing you could do regularly without slitting your wrists. Either way, the pay is usually excellent and it can earn you some solid geek cred (the currency of the new millennium). Most jobs are handed out by an agency, who works like the typical temp agency. You become an employee of the agency, and they farm you out to different clients.
- Writing “academic” papers (I wish I could make the quotes around academic flash wildly)
The dirty little secret of professional writers…writing term papers for term paper farms for pay. These services claim that the term papers are “study aids” and “should never be turned in by the student buyers” (flash wildly), but come on. You know what this is. Wealthy, desperate students pay for other people to write their papers. It’s totally unconscionable, but unfortunately, also one of the most fun jobs I’ve ever held (and I’m not alone). I got to research topics that were mostly interesting to me; write a term paper, which came fairly easily; and get paid, by the page, a pretty decent rate. The problem, aside, of course, from the basic moral conundrum, is that many of these term paper farms are pretty fly-by-night and can disappear in a flash (often owing you some pay).
You teach writing
Welcome to the club. There’s lots of teaching gigs out there, but very few with tenure, security, or solid benefits. It’s one of the best jobs in the world, if you don’t burn out.
- College/community college/university
With a terminal MFA (and usually with a MA), you can usually find at least one class somewhere local. Profs hate teaching freshman essay writing, so that is almost always given to grad students or hired adjuncts. I guarantee your first semester will be teaching the 8am class. Hang on and prove yourself, and you can usually find yourself with the afternoon and evening 101/102 instead. Hang on longer, and you may get a few actual writing classes here and there. You may have to teach one class at four different institutions to make rent, and you may have to reapply each semester/quarter for your contract, but while you have the energy, teaching is really rewarding.
- Writer-in-the-schools
Seattle has a program, as do most major cities. You apply for a year-long appointment and drop in weekly to elementary/secondary public schools and do writing exercises with them. Poorly paid, highly competitive—it looks better on your CV than almost anything else (except volunteering***) when you apply for city or state arts grants.
- SAT/GRE prep
If you took these tests and did well, there are always services hungry for tutors to teach prep classes. They hire based on score and bubbly personality (fake it, if you must). These are usually middling-paid, but they do all your work for you, including giving you the syllabus to teach. This is a great place to get teaching chops, and the work is usually flexible/evenings, to fit with students’ schedules.
You find employment totally unassociated with writing
Many writers I know swear by this. I’ve met writers who, by day, were administrative assistants, bus drivers, paralegals, street magicians, massage therapists, dog walkers, accountants, retail managers, and cable installers. They claim that when they spend all day writing (or talking about writing), any type of writing, the last thing they want to do when they get home is deal with their own work. Their day jobs are more stable and often come with benefits. Some also say that being in the world actually gives them more to write about.
My husband is a perfect example of this. He’s not a writer—he’s an artist (same idea, though, you know?) and he works as an office manager. Although (sorry to admit this publicly, sweetheart) I technically have higher earning power (I have a graduate degree, that’s why…nothing else! My husband is a certifiable genius. That’s what I think, anyway), he is the stable income that allows us to make any plans…and that probably allows me to flit and flutter back and forth between projects while balancing some ungodly student loans****.
Living as a writer isn’t always comfortable, no matter which course you choose. There’s no shame in finding fulltime employment outside writing, as long as you continue to make writing a priority. The danger, verses the dangers of trying live off writing, is that it’s really easy to feel disconnected with writing and to let your own work slide because you’re tired, stressed, or have to also get laundry done. Writing work, while desperately unstable, can make you feel like you are taking your work more seriously, but can also get in your own way. I find that the pressure of having to show results, constantly make new work, and mine new outlets is colossal. It’s important that you do these things, really, to validate the erratic lifestyle and dry periods, both to yourself (don’t get discouraged) and to your loved ones (who support you thoroughly, although it’d be a relief if you took a nice office job).
And with that, I wish you chubby paychecks, a brimming CV, and some lovely acceptance letters…oh! And a promise (again) that next time, I’ll cover something about, you know, the actual writing process.
Yeah.
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* Of course, this list is far from exhaustive. I’m only including a few underneath each category, things I’ve done, or know people who have…and survived. There are so many more iterations…feel free always, to comment and tell me about what you’ve done.
**Right now, I also don’t have anything that resembles benefits. I’ll wind up buying some individual heath care plan if things keep up the way they have, but don’t even mention the word “retirement” to me. Lalala, I can’t heeeeear you.
***The nice thing about cobbling together a living is that you do have time to volunteer. I highly recommend it. You’ll be tired from hustling for work, but being in the community keeps you grounded (and to be selfish, pads your CV with goodies and can make you contacts). There are always children’s and senior services that would love to set you up with a writing class. Check libraries and museums, too.
There are even actual organizations that do writing in the community: if you live in SF, NYC, LA, Chicago, Seattle, Boston, or Ann Arbor, check out 826 National.
****I’d feel totally irresponsible if I didn’t do a full disclosure here. He’s been rock solid and always the responsible one. I did manage to always keep myself fed and sheltered before I met him, though (but I hadn’t taken a vacation in 3 years and shopped exclusively at thrift stores).