Writing for Money

From time to time I reread books in my library, and last week I perused Why I Write, edited by Will Blythe. This book, containing essays from various writers on the art of writing, offers insights into why writers write. Personally, only one of the essays in this volume seems honest to me, and that is the one written by Mark Jacobson where he admits, "I write for money. What other reason is there?"

This is the most honest answer to the question of writing, but it is also confusing, in that most people think there is great money in writing, or that writers make a lot of money. But the reality is quite the opposite. Writers starve, which is, of course, the reason they write . . . to make money so they won't starve.

In his 1975 collection of prose entitled Picked Up Pieces, John Updike notes that he believed there were fewer than 100 people in America (outside of those employed by newspapers, magazines or journals) who were able to make a living as writers. Personally, I think Updike's estimate is a bit slim, but it's probably not far off. Today, I doubt there are 1000 people in America who are able to make a living writing books. It is that difficult to do.

Sometimes, people ask me how much I make each year from my book royalties. I can tell that, by the way they ask the question, they expect me to offer a large sum of money as the answer. But, if my recent book royalties and checks received (twice a year) are any indication of my talents as a writer . . . well, then I am one poor S.O.B.

A month ago, I received a check for $2.40 from Amazon.com. This was the sum total of my royalties from Amazon.com over the past four years. The past FOUR YEARS! Think my family can eat on that? A Slim Jim and a Coke, maybe.

The fact is, a book has to sell thousands of copies . . . and I do mean hundreds of thousands, before a writer can even come close to earning a living from book sales. Most books (90%) lose money for both publisher and author. It's a crap shoot. And I've always been on the losing end of the dice roll.

As I have pointed out many times. If I would have worked at McDonalds, putting in the same amount of time I've spent writing these past thirty years, I would be thousands of dollars richer slinging fries at minimum wage. And that's no joke. In fact, the sums wouldn't even be close. I would have earned ten times more money flipping burgers than I have writing books.

But whenever someone asks me, "Why do you write?", I will try to give an honest answer. And the most honest answer would be, "I write for the money." Or, in my case, the hope that next time, next book, I might potentially possibly probably, make a little money. Enough, perhaps, to buy a milk shake instead of a Slim Jim.

And, if memory serves, I might be able to buy a dozen donuts from Wal-Mart for $2.40, and have a little change left over to place in the Salvation Army pot.