raises
Last week, I wrote about religion and war. This week: money time.
Usually at the end of each year I send a breakdown of how much I made, and how I made it. I've written before about why I do this; previous editions include 2018, 2020, 2021, and 2022. In case you don't want to click on all of those links, they will tell you that in 2017 I made $41,000, and in 2018 it was up to $65,000. 2019 was a down year, $50,000, and in 2020 I was thrilled to reel in $55,000. 2021 was $49,000. Then, 2022, boom! $80,000. I was able to stay right around that number in 2023: $76,000 all told.
What happened between to vault me up that much? Oh, any number of things. I got a very lucrative gig writing for Descript's Creator HQ. I'm extra-lucky that's it's interesting to do, especially since they let me start my series of interviews with independent podcasters, which allows me to explore some of my eternal questions about how other people navigate the tangle of work, money, and creative practice. I also started writing for the podcast Scamfluencers, which has allowed me to do deep dives on figures as diverse as Lou Pearlman, JT LeRoy, and George Santos. Plus I did all of that romance ghostwriting, and at some point this year, I will have semi-related news... that I can actually tell you about this time! No NDA!!
The flipside of all of that is that I do less freelance journalism. Almost none, now that basically all of my editors have been laid off, and many of those publications have shuttered.
I thought I would miss it more than I do. It could be really interesting, but it was such a grind. Coming up with endless pitches, half of which got rejected; always being subject to the whims of my editors' schedules. Getting paid by the hundreds, instead of the thousands. Working on something for weeks, publishing it, and hoping it managed to generate interest and conversation for the space of... an afternoon?
I've also been able to port a lot of that kind of thinking over to the podcast that Sarah and I started in the fall. It was originally pretty narrowly focused on Taylor Swift, Travis Kelce, and the media blitz surrounding their relationship, but as we get deeper into its grooves we're starting to see it as a way to talk about all of the ways that sports and pop culture intersect and interact. It's very fun to make, but fairly time-consuming. It does not, as yet, make us any money.
Also not making me any money: this newsletter. In fact, it cost me $290 to secure myself a year of ButtonDown. (My late lamented Tinyletter was free.)
I don't want to put all or even some of this writing behind a paywall. I sell so much of my writing, and by extension myself. I like having this space as somewhere that I can noodle, be inconsistent and experimental. I wrote about "the joy and intimacy of a personal writing outlet" six years ago and you know what? I stand by what I said.
But! $290 is not nothing. And so I will say that if you want to help me defray that cost, you can send me money-- really any amount helps-- here.
In fact, I will get a little more specific and say that there are approximately 700 of you subscribed to this newsletter. If each of you sent $1, I'd be more than set. But in my experience, about 10% of subscribers send money when I ask for it. Which, to be clear, is completely and totally fine; my newsletter is not and should not be your financial priority. That is only to say that if you do have the means and want to send me some cash, $5 would be closer to what I need.
Hah. "What I need." My plan for next week is to write about trying to figure out what to do and how to feel about making a comfortable amount of money for the first time in my adult life.
Then, after that, something else, I'm sure.