Why should you support creators?

It's a very good question. 

There are plenty of other good causes you could be supporting, plenty of other crowdfunders to help people who are more in need than I am: those fundraising to cover surgery or cancer treatment expenses, for example. And you should definitely donate to them if you're able, and if you're looking for a way to make a difference to someone else's life. Their need is obviously much greater.

However, if you accept that but are still interested in funding the arts, stay with me while I explain why creators such as myself may need a little help from time to time.

Writing pays ABYSMALLY. I promise you, it really does. For every J K Rowling or George R R R R (how many Rs? I forget) Martin you read about who's coining it in, there are about ten million other writers struggling to make even minimum wage from their writing.

That's not an exaggeration: a 2014 study by the Authors' Licensing and  Collection Society found the average salary for a full-time author is £11,000 a year (for the purposes of comparison, the over-25 minimum wage of £7.20 x 40hrs a week x 52 weeks = £14,976). Blame the internet and the death of print, blame the countless outlets constantly trying it on by asking people to write for "exposure" (read: FREE), but there it is. And don't even get me started about chasing down payments from outlets taking the mickey - I've just had to get my union (which I can barely afford to be a member of!) involved in squeezing payment out of a company who took 78 days (yes, that's 2 months and 18 days) to cough up. Unfortunately my gas and electricity provider doesn't accept "it's coming soon" as payment, funnily enough...

What about advances on books? I hear you cry? Well, to quote Holly from Red Dwarf, do me a lemon! Just like sod's law dictates that in order get a loan from a bank, first you must prove you don't need one, the authors most likely to get advances are those who don't need the money because they're already insanely successful (Oh, and Milo Yiannopolous but he messed that one right up, didn't he!) The vast majority of authors don't get advances precisely because we're relatively unknown and publishers aren't willing to gamble that they'll get their investment back. Also, small or indie publishers simply don't have the resources to pay advances. That is the camp I'm squarely in.

Long story short, this book that I'm writing won't earn me a cent until (optimistic estimate) June 2018 when royalties start coming in. That means it will have to be researched, written, fact-checked, proofread, edited, indexed (and these are all things I'll be doing myself), release forms for interviews gathered, permissions for artwork obtained (and any copyright fees paid by me, because there's no budget for illustrations) and submitted probably nine months before I see any money from it.

I'm not complaining - I promise! - but rather simply explaining how this industry works. I love what I do so, so ridiculously much and I love working with a publisher who was willing to take a chance on some strange gobby chick from across the Atlantic and give me the creative control to bring my ideas to life. I know I'm insanely lucky to have such a fun job, and have people out there who actually want to read what I write who aren't related to me, or being bribed. 

But if it weren't for the generosity of patrons, grants and a fantastic support network around me, I couldn't do what I do. I couldn't afford it. I would have to be a full time care worker, or tutor, or do pretty much anything other than the job I've wanted to do since I was ten years old.

So if you have already supported me - thank you.
If you want to support creators but don't know how - here's a simple answer.
PAY THEM.

Some things not to say to an author awaiting the release of their book*

When you're a creative person about to release a significant piece of work, the people in your life will be very interested in it and will want to be supportive of your endeavours. This is lovely and cannot be overvalued. However, often without meaning to, people will come out with phrases that will make you want to stab yourself in the eye with the very red pen with which you've been painstakingly proofreading 80,000 words. Here are the ones I would absolutely recommend avoiding:

• So, what's your next book going to be about?

Erm, I dunno. I might write a tome pondering the phenomenon that causes people to disregard the fact you've just poured your heart, soul and energy into writing, editing, rewriting, proofing and promoting a work, to assume that you'll have had any time or motivation to even think about embarking upon the massive undertaking that is writing another book, and to proceed to ask you questions like that one.

Would you look at an amazing piece of architecture and say "Wow, nice design, dude. So what's the next building you create going to look like?" No? Then don't do it to any other creative person. Someone who's waiting for a book to come out has already spent a great deal of time having to live in the future. Don't demand that they fast-forward even further in to the future and in so doing, force them to skip over the very moment of triumph they've been waiting for - that's just sadistic.

• I've always thought I could write a book.

That's nice. Would you like to go off and do that, then, instead of faking interest in my literary endeavours when really you're just looking for an excuse to talk about your own frustrated authorly ambitions?

Quite apart from the fact that the above statement takes my work and makes it all about you, it's frustrating and obnoxious in another way. There's a reason it's considered rude to walk up to a teacher, a nurse or a plumber and say "Yeah, I could do what you do." That's because it is rude. Yet that's basically what you're doing when you casually say "Oh yes, I've always thought I have a book in me." Also, it's de facto untrue. If you could be doing it, you would be doing it. Unless you've already done that job yourself and actually really did consider it easy, you have no authority to speak on that subject. In the unlikely event that you have done any of these jobs and found them easy, it's still pretty shoddy behaviour to belittle someone else's hard work by breezily stating that to their face. If in doubt, just don't say it.

If you want advice or mentoring on how to start writing, by all means ask for it directly. Don't insult someone who's sweated blood over their career by implying it's something you could just pick up in an instant if you really wanted to.

• Can I have a free copy?

Did you contribute to my book in terms of providing mentoring/advice, proofreading, photographs, interviews or other forms of support? Then sure.

If not, and you're just banking on the fact you know me to try and blag a free book, I have two words for you, and one of them's "get".

• Oooh, here's something really interesting that could've gone in your book.

Fantastic. Please climb into a DeLorean and go tell it to me 12 months ago. Otherwise, I must admit to being frankly a little exhausted of the topic I've just written 80,000 words about, and could do with some down time to look at silly memes on Pinterest, rather than encounter yet another recommendation for a book/article/TV show/movie/song/music video relating to my topic of choice. Remember- it's OK to talk to me about other things, and at this point, it's actively preferred.

Instead, here are some things you can say that will always be well received.

"I can't wait to read it."

"I'm so excited for you."

"I'm telling everyone I know about it."

"Let me know if I can help promote it in any way."

"Here's some Um Bongo/red velvet cake/wine."

*With love and thanks to everyone in my life who has supported me in creating this book - even if it was by saying any of the above, I know it was always well-meant - I promise I'll stop being so caustic when it's released.
Maybe.

More things I've learned as a writer

After a summer spent trying and failing to get my children's book, 'Destiny Calling', to reach its target on Britain's Next Bestseller, and hence win that elusive publishing contract, I'm bloodied but unbowed and have decided to cut the middle man and publish it as an eBook. I'm pleased that my book is finally out there, as the BNBS campaign generated a lot of interest in it and I'm glad people can finally satisfy their curiosity and read it. However, this would not have been my ideal route. I didn't want to only put my book out digitally, as I feel that this discriminates against those who can't afford or aren't interested in purchasing an e-reader or a tablet. It leaves those who prefer physical books (still a pretty strong market) out in the cold, and as my book is a children's book, it's not going to be accessible to those kids whose households don't have e-readers and tablets.

Still, there's only so much banging one's head against a wall you can do, and trying to get 'Destiny Calling' published the traditional way meant coming up against that wall constantly. I refuse to pay to have my book published as I still hold on to a quaint belief that writers should be paid for their work, not forced to pay others to put it out there. So for now, it exists digitally, and that will have to do. Apart from the art of compromise, here's another few things I've learnt during my journey to try and publish my book on the BNBS platform:

Timing is all

Looking back, trying to generate interest in a kid's book during the summer holidays perhaps wasn't the best idea. I thought summer was prime book buying time, which it may be, but at the same time it's not prime time to get parents, teachers or children interested in a book they can't even seen yet. Asking people to pre-order your book on faith is quite a request, and you need people's full attention when you're doing it. The tight networks of parents and teachers scatter during the summer holidays, and any word of mouth you might have achieved will be severely limited. You need a captive audience - now that school is back in session, I might have a better shot at one!

Look at who has the purchasing power

Another thing I don't think I quite appreciated was the difficulty of generating interest in a children's book when it's not necessarily children who are the ones doing the buying. Generally, you have to hit the parents and hope there's a trickle-down effect, but that's easier said than done. Some parents are engaged in their children's reading habits and will seek out and buy books that they think their child would like - others will just wait to be asked. The latter strategy isn't likely to get your new book ordered, because the child isn't likely to know it exists. The age group my book is aimed at (8 - 12 year olds) is one that's generally too young to be on social media, so any promotion has to go towards adults. However, this means that anyone who's not a parent immediately tunes out, and that you're relying on parents to sift through the 57 other demands of their day and take notice of your pestering on Facebook. It's quite a gamble.

Librarians and teachers are your friends

By far the most support I got during my campaign, both in terms of willingness to publicise my book project, and willingness to order multiple copies, was from librarians and teachers. These are people who know, love and support literature. They know the constant struggle to get children to read, and they also know what children want to read, and they will give you an honest appraisal. I got fantastic feedback from the teachers and librarians who read my book, and whether it was in the form of ordering 11 copies at a time, or flyering every library in the county, I wouldn't be half as confident in the appeal of 'Destiny Calling' had I not had their support.

People are flaky

This is a bit of a rehash of a point in my last post on things I've learned as a writer, namely where I say "Everyone says they will buy your book. The ones who actually do are worth kissing all over". However, it can't be stressed enough. People want to be nice, they want to make you feel good, so they'll tell you what they think you want to hear. However, I'd prefer some honesty any day over wondering how many people are just blowing smoke up your backside by saying they'll support your work. If everyone who said to me they were going to preorder my book had done so, I would've hit the 250 target no problem. I'm sure I've failed to honour a fair few promises in my time, but generally I try not to raise anyone's expectations on false premises, and I loathe the modern convention that disorganisation, lateness and poor memory are acceptable, even lovable parts of a person, rather than character flaws. Maybe some people forgot, maybe some had no intention of ordering in the first place but thought that was too mean a thing to say. However, hand on heart, I'd rather they'd just told me "Nah, I don't fancy it" or "I'm pretty useless, it's doubtful I'll remember" than earnestly repeating "I'll preorder it tonight, I promise!"

People are great 

For all the flakes who make you want to beat yourself unconscious with your own book collection, there is a silent and fantastic faction who would rather die than shout about their generous actions, but nonetheless go ahead and do it. The amount of people who I wouldn't have even considered as possible supporters of my book yet came out of the woodwork and quietly placed their order was both astonishing and heartwarming. People I've only met a couple of times, those whose contact with me might have been limited to running into each other at roller derby games, plus total strangers, even the lady who cuts my hair - they all came out swinging for me. They believed on total faith that my writing was worth their money, and they clicked that button and showed me some love. Now that my book is actually live, the amount of people who've already ordered it and are telling me "I'm on the train, reading it now!" is also incredibly touching. It's a kid's book and yet most of those who've bought it so far are child-free adults, which I find rather lovely.

It's an interesting journey ahead and I hope it results in some success, however modest, in getting my writing to an audience wider than just the fantastic people I'm lucky enough to know. So, to that end - here's the pitch.

To order my book 'Destiny Calling', a story of family life, friendship and disability aimed at 8 - 12 year-olds, GO HERE NOW. It only costs £2 and 10% of all royalties will be donated to Wings for Life, a charity seeking a cure for spinal cord injuries.

Seven Crucial Things I've Learned As A Writer

• To the older generation, getting published on teh interwebz means nothing.

My parents' generation (those in their 50s/60s and above) can be terribly quaint. They still buy proper newspapers, those bulky physical paper things, rather than reading the news on their iPads. They write actual letters and postcards, and even seem to enjoy receiving such things. They don't see text message or even email as an acceptable form of communication, and they are deeply suspicious of Facebook, viewing it as a dastardly medium which will inevitably result in molestation, stalking, identity theft and the end of your career, even if you only use it to chat to your schoolfriends and post pictures of your dog. So when it comes to publishing, they want to see Real Old-Style Evidence that you've written something. A webpage or a link does not impress your grandma. If it can't be cut out of this weekend's Telegraph and shown to the whole family, then it's not 'Proper Writing'. Never mind that some of the pieces of which I'm most proud have only been published online, or that I wrote a 19,000 word blog series that was widely read, acclaimed and reprinted across the globe. The internet may be the platform upon which my generation's whole life takes place, but to those born before 1955, it's still Not Really Real.

• Everyone thinks they can do what you do

And hey, maybe they can. Blogging software has democratised writing to an extent that many people are putting their voices out there, and I've found that blogs by people who only do it as a hobby and do not consider themselves 'writers' as such, can be just as funny, articulate and thought-provoking as the work of those who write for a living. That said, there's nothing more irritating than telling someone what you do and them responding with "I've always thought I could write...", even when they work for Halifax and have never shown any sign of being seized upon by the muse. If you have written something, great! Tell me about it, I'd love to read it sometime. But don't idly speculate that you could do my job as if it's just something that one can pick up on a whim. It's serious business. It takes brains, talent and mind-melting effort. Don't tell me "I've always thought I've got a book in me...." if you've no intention of prising that book out of your core and putting it into words. It trivialises my job and makes you look ignorant of the work I put into it.

• Everyone will say they'll buy your book. Those who actually do are worth kissing all over.

This one is by no means unique to writers. Artists, actors and musicians will all know exactly what it's like when friends trill "Oh sure, I'll come watch your play/see your band perform/visit your exhibition!". You know that if you're lucky, maybe one in ten of those people will actually make good on their promise, and the rest will flake. We know it's just life, it's just human nature, and we're all guilty of it ourselves (right now I'm thinking of a friend's art upcoming show which I've said I'll go and see, and am writing myself multiple reminders to make good on my promise). Nonetheless, it's incredibly frustrating. When the world and its whippet says they'll come to your book signing, and five people end up trailing through the door, plus a sixth an hour later who was just passing on their way to Starbucks and happened to see you, it's disheartening to say the least. However, those five people are worth their weight in gold and should be given massages, red velvet cupcakes and advance copies of all your future work signed with a lipstick kiss. They didn't flake when everyone else did, they remembered and they cared enough to come out and support you. Those people matter and deserve your thanks. 

• If you tell people you've written a book, their next question will inevitably be "Is it published?"

...And if the answer is no, their level of interest will plummet by 99%

As with the first point, physical books published by 'real publishers' still retain a kind of clout that people are impressed by. We're a terrible, shallow, fickle race really, susceptible to the sway of big names and promises of money. Never mind that you poured your heart and soul into 90,000 words - if those words only exist as a PDF on your computer, rather than an actual tome people can buy, put on their shelves and admire (preferably with a HarperCollins logo on the spine), then no one's interested.

• Trying to get published the traditional way is like trying to nail a jelly to the ceiling

I've written 3 books since I decided to really give writing a go back in 2009. Back then, approaching a publisher or an agent involved 1) Buying a massive compendium such as The Writer and Artist's Yearbook or The Writers' Market and trawling through the whole thing A - Z, highlighting possible outlets who might be open to your work. 2) Printing out 50 pages/3 chapters of your book, plus a synopsis, an author biography and a covering letter plus SAE to send, since for some reason publishers have been extremely slow to start accepting electronic submissions. 3) Waiting for up to FOUR MONTHS for a response - that is, indeed, IF the publisher or agent ever deigns to get back to you. If you're lucky, publishers accept simultaneous submissions so you can fling out several at a time, but by no means all do.

Just for fun, take a look at the spreadsheet I began keeping when I started submitting my first novel, 'Phil' to publishers. I've generally stopped keeping track like this nowadays, because it's frankly just too depressing. Out of 24 publishers and agents, 7 never responded to me. That's a pretty lousy hit rate for all that time and effort (not to mention 200+ wasted sheets of paper and a fair bit of printer ink sent to the four publishers who refused to accept email submissions). Of those who did deign to get back to me, it was not unusual to wait 3 months for a response, which in the event would likely be a photocopied slip of paper with my name filled in, saying "Ta, but it's not for us." Occasionally I'd get a slightly more personal response but there would be no useful feedback and usually a maddeningly cryptic phrase like "We did not feel sufficiently passionate about your work to take it any further." I know publishers are pushed for time and it's not their job to give fledgling writers critiques, but frankly I'd prefer it if someone just bluntly said "I thought it sucked" rather than rejecting my work in such pretentious terms.

Agent	16/06/2009	Phil	Email	Rejected 16/06/2009
Agent	17/06/2009	Phil	Post	NO RESPONSE
Agent	17/06/2009	Phil	Post	NO RESPONSE
Agent	23/06/2009	Phil	Email	Rejected 20/07/2009
Agent	23/06/2009	Phil	Post	NO RESPONSE
Agent	23/06/2009	Phil	Post	NO RESPONSE
Agent	24/06/2009	Phil	Post	Rejected 21/08/2009
Agent	26/07/2009	Phil	Email	Rejected 07/08/2009
Agent	26/07/2009	Phil	Email	Rejected 01/10/2009
Agent	10/08/2009	Phil	Post	Rejected 01/12/2009
Agent	18/11/2009	Phil	Post	Rejected 13/01/2010
Agent	05/01/2010	Phil	Email	Rejected 06/01/2010
Agent	06/01/2010	Phil	Post	Rejected 27/01/2010
Publisher	13/01/2010	Phil	Email	NO RESPONSE
Publisher	21/01/2010	Phil	Post	Rejected 28/01/2010
Publisher	10/02/2010	Phil	Email	Rejected 24/02/2010
Publisher	10/03/2010	Phil	Post	Rejected 31/10/2010
Publisher	20/04/2010	Phil	Email	Rejected 06/08/2010
Publisher	12/08/2010	Phil	Email	Rejected 16/08/2010
Agent	04/04/2011	Phil	Email	Rejected
Agent	04/04/2011	Phil	Post	Rejected 7/5/11
Agent	11/11/2011	Phil	Email	Rejected 1/12/11
Agent	11/11/2011	Phil	Email	NO RESPONSE
Agent	11/11/2011	Phil	Email	NO RESPONSE

• Writing takes no time at all. It's everything else that takes the time.

When people ask me "Ooooh, does it take long to write a book?" I always say no, and they're always surprised. But I really believe that people miscategorise "Time spent writing". What they really mean is "10 mins of actual typing, followed by 10 mins spent  checking email, 10 on Facebook, 10 on Pinterest, 10 making a cup of tea, 10 trying to get back into the flow of typing but you can't because you've lost the momentum by getting distracted with all the other stuff, and oh bollocks there's a whole hour gone." Actual, pure, nothing-but-writing writing doesn't take much time at all, but it's rare that a writer actually gets into this mode. We all live lives that demand constant multi-tasking and which try to seduce us away from our work with multiple distractions. Of course, there is writing that requires a lot of work around the writing  - research, interviews, correspondence - and you can't always rush that. But even then, we all know that "research" can easily translate into "10 minutes of productive Googling followed by 30 minutes getting into a pointless argument on Twitter" or "Half an hour looking at relevant books in the library followed by an hour browsing the fiction section just for fun". It's not writing that takes the time, it's all the pissing about and procrastinating that we do around the writing. I challenge any writer to disagree with me...

• It can suck so much, but there's still no other job that comes near it.

Pursuing writing or any other creative career means throwing yourself upon the mercy of a deeply uncertain market and numerous variables you can't control. Just in the five years since I started writing fiction, the publishing market has been turned upside down by the advent of e-books and the increasing decline of the print market (and with it, the slow death of traditional bookshops - which makes me so sad I can't even get into it here). If you refuse to self-publish and believe that you should be paid for your work, you have to be pretty stoical, not to mention driven, to make any headway. Yet for all the rejections, silences, time-wasting, money worries, career worries, self-doubt, and temptation to slug the next person who breezes "So where's this bestseller then?", I wouldn't trade it for anything. My writing has taken me across oceans, both literally and virtually. It's introduced me to people I never would have met otherwise and brought some of my dearest friends into my life. It's got people talking, arguing, agreeing, exclaiming, confessing, enthusing. It's allowed me to put my voice out there and have it listened to, it's resulted in me being asked to speak on TV, on the radio, at conferences. It's made my family proud of me, it's made me proud of myself. It's kept me sane. It's kept me alive. And sometimes, it's even earned me some bleedin' money.

Catherine Scott encourages you to buy her book, check out her published clips and never, ever say the words "Well, E L James managed it!" to her.

Writing For Free...

...is never far from my mind, as it's something I do often, and far more often than I would like. I would love to make an income from my writing that I can survive upon, but instead I've found myself undertaking unpaid internships, 'voluntary' writing positions, and churning out thousands of words for nothing in return except the hope of exposure. To a degree, I accept that this is a) part of a writer's lot, and b) increasingly the nature of the beast as the internet makes paid content harder and harder to find. I write for free in the hope that it'll get exposure for my writing that will ultimately translate into paying work, but when a major UK newspaper tells me that it can't pay me for the 800-word assignment I spent my day on because 'we don't have a budget for online content', one does start to wonder if we're just being sold the emperor's new clothes. 

Like most writers I've had to diversify and offer other services, such as social media promotion, proofreading and website evaluations. I also do private tutoring and care work when the writing just isn't paying. I accept that many writers (see also actors, artists, musicians etc) do have to take other work in order to survive, but it's also a catch-22 - if you can't give your work your attention full-time, then you can't really call yourself a full-time writer. Thus your true passion ends up relegated to the status of a 'second job' or even 'hobby', for solely financial reasons. I know that paying nurses, teachers, police officers and fire fighters is far more important than paying the likes of me - but surely no one should be in the position of doing an honest day's work for sweet FA.

That said, I do feel ambivalent when confronted with crowdsourcing requests to fund publications that are floundering. Much as I appreciate the value of independent, quality journalism from diverse sources, another part of me does cynically wonder 'Why should I be putting my meager income from the few paid writing gigs I get, towards paying other writers?' There have been several campaigns this year asking for donations to keep magazines afloat, both major and independent publications, and it's left me wondering - Surely if a publication can't turn a profit, or even pay its writers, shouldn't it submit to the inevitable and shut down?

However, I know the other side of the story. I did an unpaid internship for the fantastic feminist magazine Ms. earlier this year. This may sound hard to believe, but the fact I had to fly to the US, pay for accommodation and live without a salary for 3 months failed to put even a tiny tarnish on my fantastic experience. I would honestly do it all again. I understand that Ms. has struggled financially, having dropped its circulation from monthly to bi-monthly, to quarterly, and having had to compensate with an online presence which, as tends to be the case with web content, doesn't make money and thus means bloggers can't be paid. I also appreciate that Ms is owned by a non-profit organsation, the Feminist Majority Foundation, so any spare money goes toward valuable campaigns such as helping Afghan women and girls, encouraging women to vote, and fighting for education equality. So, I was willing to accept that paying interns was just not viable for Ms, and I loved every minute working there anyway.

Would I want Ms. to fold because it's not as profitable as it used to be? God no - it's bad enough that there are no feminist magazines left in the UK. When people wondered why I was willing to fly 3000 miles to work for nothing, the latter was precisely my answer. Visibility of feminism has taken a nose dive in our media culture, and Ms helps keep a sane voice speaking out amongst the mindless, apolitical chatter of other so-called 'women's magazines'. But what do we do when capitalism comes calling? Writers need to make money to survive, ergo so do publications. If most magazines and newspapers are destined to end up online, should they all go behind a paywall? Will people bother to pay for online content when they know they can probably find similar elsewhere for free? Does that make writers who willingly write for free traitors to their compatriots who want to hold out for proper pay? 

As James Bloodworth points out in this article on the 'gentrification of journalism', turning journalism into an indulgence rather than a job will ultimately disadvantage us all. Bloodworth writes, "Any long-term reliance on free labour will certainly make newspaper balance sheets look better; but it will also give a labour market advantage to those from more privileged backgrounds who can afford to work six month unpaid internships or find free time to turn around articles for nothing – which in turn will mean an ever smaller section of society writing the news."

 

Gone are the days when the young Julie Burchill and the young Caitlin Moran could walk into music journalism jobs whilst still in their teens and fashion careers out of being witty feminist commentators. There are plenty of the latter still out there but most of them are blogging for free and working day jobs in between. And so I genuinely wonder, are the days of making a living from writing also gone? I'm not quite ready to give up hope yet - but it can be hard to see what the way forward for us hacks is going to be.