Would You Rather Get Paid or Get Read?
I’ve been reading Dan Ariely’s new book The Upside of Irrationality: The Unexpected Benefits of Defying Logic at Work and at Home. In it, he talks about how humans and animals alike need to find meaning through labor.
Ariely conducted an experiment where subjects were asked to complete a simple puzzle on a sheet of paper. For the first successfully completed puzzle, the subject would receive $.55; however, for each subsequent page after the first, the subject would earn five cents less.
In the first setup, the researcher asked the subject to put his name on the paper and then complete the puzzle. When the subject handed in the completed puzzle, the researcher looked it over with an approving nod and then put the sheet in a stack and asked the subject if he would like to do another puzzle for five cents less.
In the second setup, the subject was not asked to put his name on the paper, and the researcher would take the completed puzzle without looking it over and put it in a pile before asking if the subject would like to continue with another puzzle.
In the third setup, the researcher would take the completed puzzle from the subject and, without looking at it, feed it immediately into a shredder right in front of the subject’s eyes. Then the researcher would ask if the subject would like to do another puzzle.
The results? People who were acknowledged completed on average 9.03 sheets, compared with 6.34 sheets for the people whose puzzles were shredded. And those subjects whose puzzles were ignored but not shredded completed on average 6.77 sheets — not much more than the “shredded” subjects.
What this told Ariely is that money, while an important motivating factor, is not the only reason we do work. We also crave meaning — we want people to see and appreciate our work.
This got me to thinking about my own writing career. If I had to choose between having all my work read and appreciated but not paid for, and earning a very high income but having no readers, which would I choose?
On the one hand, I write this blog. I post two to three times per week, and I’m not paid for it. Sure, some people who read the blog also take my e-course, but when they pay $240 it’s for the work I provide during the e-course, not for the posts I write on the blog. They get $240 worth of work from me. The blog is additional and free.
Now, I could stop posting to the blog and try to sell my post ideas to Writer’s Digest. They pay me $.60 per word. Multiply the number of words I’ve written on this blog and multiply it by $.60, and you’ll see that I would make quite a bit. But when I pitch Writer’s Digest, not every idea is accepted. Also, I have to wait to see the article in print, and I rarely receive reader feedback. But when I post on the blog, I get to write what I want, see it published immediately, and read feedback in the form of comments and e-mails from readers. Don’t get me wrong, I love writing for Writer’s Digest — the topics are fun and the editors are top-notch. But the fact that I don’t try to pitch every blog idea to Writer’s Digest instead of writing it up immediately for the blog tells you I might value getting read over getting paid.
On the other hand, I write beauty product stories for a health magazine, and I love doing it. The editor asks me to write in an edgy style, and always says that I get the tone right on. But when the articles make it into print, I see that for space reasons they took out my clever bon mots and went with bare-bones descriptions of the products. Does it bother me that no one will see and appreciate my wittiness? No. I’m happy that I got paid, and I forget all about it.
But when we’re talking about a topic I’m really invested in, I am upset when it doesn’t make it into print, even when I’m paid. For example, I was ecstatic when I sold my first narrative-style article to Fortune Small Business, and was bummed when the magazine went under the issue before my piece was to run, even though I received a big fat check. I tried very hard to place the story elsewhere and was excited when I sold it to Inc., even though it was in a much shortened form.
Also, my son’s birthmom and I were hired to write an essay for a large magazine. We turned it in on November 1, were asked for some revisions in March after much prodding on my part — and since then, nada, even after multiple follow-ups asking when the article is to run (it was originally slated for a spring issue). The idea that this essay, based on a topic that’s very important to me, may not run is very upsetting. I heard that things are crazy at the magazine in question, so I’m not taking the lack of response personally, but I’m still upset that the essay we worked so hard on may not be read and appreciated — even though, again, I earned a nice check. (Of course, I would be doubly upset if the article never ran AND I was never paid.)
For me, it’s a mix: I write articles on topics I have no personal passion for to get paid, and don’t get upset if no one ever reads them — but I also write about topics that are near and dear to me and am at least as interested in getting read as I am in getting paid. But if I had to choose one, what would I choose?
Well, say I landed a gig that paid $5 per word — but as soon as I turned in an article, my editor would shred it without looking at it. For a while, I’m sure I’d be happy: Hey, I get $5,000 for a 1,000-word article and it doesn’t even matter if it sucks because no one will ever see it! But eventually, I think I’d crave feedback and appreciation for my work, and would quit. And imagine that writing was a purely unpaid occupation for everyone, and I had the chance to write an article for an audience of millions of slavering fans. Would I do it? You bet I would.
So the answer is: I’d rather be read than paid. If that were the case, I’d have to earn my income through other work, but would feel very satisfied with my writing hobby as long as I had plenty of readers. (At this point it would be a hobby, not a career.)
Of course, the question is merely a thought experiment because when I write, I almost always get paid AND get read, and most other writers can do the same. If someone now asked me to write a book with a built-in audience on a topic I’m very interested in, such as dialectology, but offered no pay, I wouldn’t do it.
How about you? If you had to choose, would you rather get paid or get read? [lf]
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Jul 5, 2010 Money, Motivation, Observations, Personal yammerings
What a thought-provoking topic! I love the blog format because we aren’t censored and it’s instant gratification to see your work in print. For me, the answer is that I’d rather be read than paid. But, is it possible that as writers we are selling ourselves short by giving away so much for free?
I vote for ‘read’ over ‘paid’ too. I can’t really make meaning, or sense,
in the absence of input from other people. Is a story that isn’t shared
still a story, or is it just a diary entry of sorts?
Right now I’d just like to be read, and appreciated. I think most of my family and friends don’t believe I’m actually a writer because they haven’t yet seen me published. One of the reasons I started to write seriously was just because – I had to. It was a feeling. Of course, eventually, I’d like to be paid, but that’s just an extra perk.
I’m with you, Linda. When I’m writing about something that fires me up, I’m writing primarily to be read, not paid (ah, the story of my career). But when it comes to work I don’t feel as personally invested in, I’m much better an ensuring I get paid what I feel I’m worth. And if the client passes because of my high rates? C’est la vie. It wasn’t something I was necessarily itching to do anyway.
Colette’s right, though. When it comes to the content that gets us excited, are we selling ourselves short? By letting our personal lives inform our business lives, are we failing on the business level? Maybe. But that’s why I diversify. So I can’t screw myself over too much.
I feel like dirty prostitute in the room, but I’d rather get paid. And that’s because for me, writing is a business and I can’t see turning it into a hobby instead. Getting read and getting recognized for the work I’ve done are closely intertwined with my ego in my eyes. I’ve had to learn to give up my writing as a product and not as an extension of myself or my ego. It’s like being a surrogate mother: it was never really my baby to begin with.
A friend and I had this conversation when I was telling her about ghostwriting a book. She said that she couldn’t let someone else take credit for her writing. She’s a cell phone representative and makes commission on her sales. So I asked her if she would prefer her commission checks or a big sticker on every iPhone she sold that had her name and picture. Suddenly, she saw it my way.
In a perfect world, I’d get paid, read and recognized. I like the feedback and interaction with the readers. But if I had to choose just one it would be the money. Because my landlord doesn’t seem to take bylines and reputation as payment. Go figure.
Thanks for your comments! Mary, interesting comparing the paid but non-read writing in this experiment to a diary. What would you do if someone offered you money to write in your diary, knowing it won’t be read? Somehow in that case I think I’d take the cash.
Good points in selling ourselves short when we’re writing on a topic we’re passionate about. Me, I expect to get paid no matter what, but I’m more upset if an article I’m invested in is killed than an article I have no passion for.
P.S., great points. It seems there’s a continuum, from not read AND not paid to read AND paid. I expect to be the latter in reality. In the world where I had to choose between getting paid for shredded docs and getting read but not paid, it was a tough choice but I went for getting read. I guess in that case I’d have to find paid work elsewhere and writing would be a hobby.
Linda, you have articulated my own thoughts so well. Perhaps the best take-away from this is that there is no one answser which works for every situation. I think years ago it used to be more cut-and-dried because there were only a few places/ways to be published, read and/or paid. Now the options sometimes overwhelm me (and not always in a good way). I keep finding more and more that I’m making decisions on a project-by-project basis.
I’ve been paid a lot for pieces I wasn’t all that invested or interested in, but was able to provide according to the editor’s or client’s needs; I see those transactions as more about business and skills than about literary expression. Then I’ve done some unpaid (or much lower paid) pieces here and there (and publish my own blog) for much different reasons, most of which have to do with readership, creative interests, and the like.
Paid paid paid.
I’d rather be read, of course, but I can’t afford to spend my time writing if I don’t get paid. The trick is finding something you want to write about that someone else wants to pay for.
That’s a very interesting way to look at it. I think it applies to all bloggers because this is certainly not a hobby to undertake if one has any aspirations of making money at it. We do it to be read, to enter into a conversation, and to see our ideas make their way into the world. Sure, there are lots of ways to make money at it (your ecourse for example), but most people don’t do that. The only perks I’ve had from being a blogger are four opera tickets I was given last year to write reviews and a pittance in my Google Adsense account. I don’t blog because I want to make money.
There’s an interesting conversation I’ve read part of regarding ebooks with the same mindset. Some people think that cheaper ebooks are the way to go because people won’t pay normal prices, while others think that the authors should not shortchange themselves. I think it’s somewhere in the middle. There are always places for cheaper short stories and collections, but there needs to be a time and place when writers can make money at doing what we do.
Maybe I’m too much of a sellout, but if I had the opportunity for a fantastically paying writing position that no one read, I’d jump on it. Then I’d take the nice, posh lifestyle I got from that and work toward my passion and honing my craft. I don’t see the two having to be mutually exclusive.
I’m with PS Jones on this one. This is my business. It’s my job and the mere act of being read won’t pay my rent or bills. I have written pieces that have been shredded, as it were (I write for a paper that doesn’t use a lot of what it commissions – but still pays) and I don’t care.
But – and I realise I’m at risk of sounding condescending here – I’m already widely published. I have bylines. So I don’t need to prove I’m a real writer. I’m just happy I can pay the rent doing something I like.
But while I understand what, say, Karen says, I am also wildly frustrated by all the people who not only care more about being read than paid, but are willing to sacrifice being paid because they are so desperate to be read. Because the problem with people who value being read over being paid is they don’t just blog, they go and write for free for markets that would otherwise pay, all because those markets are “letting” them write. The reason it’s harder to find freelance work than it used to be and rates are suffering (in the UK, anyway) is partly down to this mentality. And for those of us who do see writing as a business, because it is our day job, this gets very annoying. I am on several freelance mailing lists and people constantly write in asking if they should write for free to get exposure – apparently not recognising that they are saying: “Hey everyone, how about I undercut you?”
/end rant
Thanks for all your comments! Let’s keep in mind that I’m not asking whether in reality, in today’s world, you would write for free to get read. I sure as hell would not, and I wouldn’t recommend anyone else do it either. This is a thought experiment. If there were a world where either you would get paid but not a single soul would read anything you ever wrote — including your editors — and a world where you would get read and appreciated but not get paid, which would you choose?
I thought I would rather get read and then have another job for money, but another option would be to get paid a ton for writing unread articles and then find fulfillment and appreciation through another venue, such as volunteering.
But of course, in THIS world I get both read and paid, and that’s the way it should be.
[...] Linda Formichelli wonders if writers would rather get paid or read. [...]
the problem with people who value being read over being paid is they don’t just blog, they go and write for free for markets that would otherwise pay, all because those markets are “letting” them write. The reason it’s harder to find freelance work than it used to be and rates are suffering (in the UK, anyway) is partly down to this mentality.
Amen, my British sister!
Get read. No contest.
About forty years ago, I started writing because I just had to. You know the feeling. I also aspired to having a huge readership, as I think we all do. Finally, I assumed that meant lots of fame and fortune. Nope.
Skipping way ahead to my gray-haired semi-retirement, I make enough money through my writing and editing, mostly my editing, for it to be my sole source of income. That’s enough, I guess. Meanwhile, if you get the urge to give me even MORE income, I won’t complain.