Friday, January 5, 2018

It’s That Time Again

As previously noted, every once in a while I have to ask for money.

Having given up military consulting work and having shut down my woodworking business and art studio when I left Alaska, I subsist for the moment solely on income derived from my social media sites and this blog.

A few years back, I wouldn’t have believed this possible.

A few years back it wouldn’t have been possible.

But despite the sneering criticism of certain vocal critics, it is possible for a writer to make a reasonably decent living this way.

Yes, writer.

It used to be “writer” was defined as somebody who assembled words and ideas into books, short stories, articles, and perhaps screenplays, fact or fiction, and submitted those efforts via various means to editors at publishing houses or various presses or various media outlets, and then lived on cheese sandwiches hoping a check of some modest amount would come back. Traditionally the profession of “writer” meant you repeated this cycle without healthcare or adequate hygiene or presentable clothes until you died, or gave it up for a real job – both of which happened with distressing frequency.

That model, that definition of writer, still very much exists.

And a lot of writers make varying degrees of living from it.

But there’s a new way to do things and that’s where I am. In that strange new middle ground.

I wanted to be a writer since I was kid. It’s a sickness, writing. A weird mental disorder that makes you sit in front of a keyboard for hours, daydreaming and playing with ideas and wondering why anybody would read the blather on the screen. But my grandmother gave me a Hardy Boys book (#8; The Mystery of Cabin Island) for Christmas one year when I was about 8 or 9. I’d been an indifferent reader up to that point, but that book captivated me and my lifelong obsession with words began right there. Somewhere shortly thereafter, in a staggering moment of epiphany, I realized there were actually people out there who got paid to sit in front of a keyboard and daydream and those people didn’t have to put on pants every day. Hell they might not even own actual pants – unless you consider pajamas legitimate work apparel.

I knew then that’s what I wanted to do.

I’d always intended to go the traditional route, cheese sandwiches and all.

I’d never intended to write about politics. But evidence would suggest that’s where my talent lies – if you’re charitable and agree that it is indeed an actual talent and not just something you could train a chimpanzee to do (they taught ‘em to fly spaceships, so I imagine political pundit wouldn’t be that difficult).

But by the time I was free to write what I wanted (upon my retirement from the military) and I started writing in earnest with the idea that someday somebody would give me actual money for it, the world had changed. How we connect to it had changed and continues to evolve at a rapid pace and a new type of “writer” became possible – well maybe not new new, but perhaps a more modern version of the political broadsides and pamphlets penned by the likes of Thomas Paine.

Ten years ago, hell five years ago, I would never have guessed that Facebook would become my primary platform for day to day short form.  Facebook is a horrible platform for the kinds of things I write. It’s a bastard cross between a blog and public forum and doesn’t do either very well. It’s subject to arbitrary and random censorship. There’s no protection for intellectual property at all. It lacks the most basic of editing tools and formatting functions, its search capability is ridiculous and all but useless. Facebook’s interface, timeline management, and display are one of the single most infuriatingly horrible experiences in an age of limitless customization – limitless to everybody but Facebook users that is. It’s impossible to get any kind of help from the operators and it’s subject to every kind of cyber-abuse from bullying to trolling to sexual assault.

And yet – and yet -- it does one thing very, very well.

It does one thing that other technology cannot do, that traditional publishing venues cannot do.

Facebook and Twitter and Instagram and other social media platforms connect writers to people in an organic, viral, geometrically expanding manner that is completely impossible anywhere else and that has never existed before.

Now, interacting with readers on a real time basis for hours upon hours every single goddamned day isn’t for every writer.

Believe me.

It takes a certain degree of masochism to do it.

In point of fact, a lot of writers become writers because they are anti-social bastards who enjoy living on moldy fake-cheese sandwiches and sitting around all day in dirty pajama pants and who tend to break out in a cold sweat when they actually have to put on pants and go outside where all the other people are.

So real time interaction with their audience isn’t something they consider a feature.

And that’s okay.

“Writer” is a loose enough definition that it accommodates the gregarious right alongside the smelly hermit.

But, if you write well, if you write the things people are interested in, and if you’re willing to interact with your audience directly and in real time, then social media makes it possible for your work to spread far beyond the size of audiences normally available to traditional writers. For example: a few years ago, when I started doing this full time, Stonekettle Station averaged maybe 20,000 visitors per month – and that was after 8 years of writing every single day.  Maybe 3,000 people followed me on Facebook. Two years later, with some considerable effort, my daily Facebook audience exceeds is coming up on 150,000 people and a single long form essay on Stonekettle Station can exceed 60,000 unique pageviews in a few hours.

Social media, for all its ills, has created new opportunity, an alternative to traditional writing models. Not a replacement, a supplement.

And that’s where I ended up. That’s where I exist.

I admit that in my case there is some degree of luck. I happened to be in the right place just as opportunity opened with the right experience and skillset and enough free time to take advantage of it.  It suits me. It’s not easy. Really it’s not. It sometimes (often) takes 14 to 18 hour days, research, writing, swearing at the screen, dealing with trolls and hatemail, it can be incredibly frustrating at times for reasons you never imagine or anticipate. It requires constant attention, a constant presence, and everything becomes grist for the mill, making much of your life public – something that is often less than thrilling to your spouse.

It’s work.

Goddamn is it work.

I’ve been invited to a number of writers’ conventions to talk about this with other writers – or those who want to become writers under this new paradigm. That’s something I’m happy to do. I’ve been pretty lucky and I’m glad to pay that forward. The world is a big place, there’s plenty of room for many, many more writers in this new arena and I’m happy to help get them started.

If every one of those quarter million daily readers signed up for Patreon and donated a buck a month, well, I’d be writing this from the deck of my personal yacht.

Unfortunately it doesn’t work that way and so every once in a while I need to ask for money.

I don’t like this.

But it’s necessary.

And it’s to your advantage.

Yes, donating to me is to your advantage.

Because this way I am independent. I don’t owe anybody, no business, no agenda, no political party or ideology, no boss, I don’t owe any of them a damned thing.  I write what I write, be it long form, short Facebook posts, or a simple Tweet, to the very best of my ability and as I see it – not as somebody else has directed me to see it. I maintain my social media sites, my Facebook page and the Stonekettle Facebook Group, my Twitter feed, as independent entities, managed by me and me alone to my standards and not some corporate agenda.

That seems to be important to you, dear reader, and I take that responsibility seriously.

By remaining independent, I owe only you, the readers, the very best work I can put out and that’s it.

But it only works if you provide support.

I doubt I’ll ever get used it, asking for money, and I’m not sure I want to.  That aversion always, every time, makes me more determined to improve, to work harder, to produce a better product for you and to expand opportunities for YOU to have your say, to interact, in a safe and intelligent forum. For example, I intended to start this subscription drive on the 1st, but I wouldn’t do it until I finished yesterday’s article, Fortunate Son, because I wanted you have content in this new year first.

So, here it is: I’m asking you to donate.

Because my business model is evolving, and because IRS regulations, state and federal laws, etc, all of these things impact this process, I tend to change things up every time.

Here’s how I’m doing it this time:

The donation drive runs from January 1 to February 20, 2018.

I’ll be giving away 20 coveted, one-time only, limited edition Stonekettle Station Pens. These pens will be handmade by me in my workshop and engraved in a manner specific to this particular fund drive. If you follow me on Facebook, or follow my Etsy store, you know how hard it is to get one of these, and how highly prized they are. Donate, and you get a chance at not only a Stonekettle Pen, but one of only 20 of this edition that will ever be made.

I will also be giving away five signed copies of Alternate Truths – the best-selling political anthology which contains my short story: Gettysburg, AND five copies of the sequel: More Alternative Truths, which contains my vignette Doctor Republican’s Monster and my collaborative short, Moses.  

Any subscriber who donates any amount via the PayPal DONATION BUTTON between those dates will be put in the running. Additionally, any subscriber who sets up a NEW reoccurring donation via either PAYPAL or PATREON will be put in the running for something extra (it’s a surprise).

You may do both.

Winners will be announced February 20th, 2018.

To donate, click on the “Donation” button, either embedded in the text below or on the upper right side of this screen and follow the directions.

You may enter more than once. Each donation will be counted as a unique subscription.

If you’ve already donated to Stonekettle Station this month, you’re already on the subscription list.

Those of you who already donate via an automatic monthly payment, you’ll be entered automatically in the giveaway. (See the footnote below for additional information regarding automatic reoccurring donations)

Legal Disclaimer: To be clear, this is not a lottery or a raffle.  Donations are voluntary subscription fees specifically in support of this blog and the associated social media feeds and conducted in accordance with state and federal law.

That is:  you’re paying for content not a chance to win something.

I am not claiming any tax-exempt status or charity. Donations are considered business income and I pay all applicable state and federal taxes on that income and I have the records to prove it.

The items I give away are my intellectual property, created and paid for by me.  As such I chose to randomly gift them to supporters, just as I give away my custom made pens to my fellow writers.  The giveaway list is generated randomly from voluntary subscriptions, since I have no other way to determine who readers are.  You are not donating for a chance to win a prize, you’re paying for the content of this blog and my associated social media feeds and I’m using this opportunity to give something back other than just my usual blog essays, Facebook posts, and Tweets.

As always, thank you for your support.

Reoccurring Payments: If you’ve set up a monthly donation via PayPal and you suddenly realize it’s been cancelled, that’s not me rejecting your money (because I would never do that. I need the money and I’m not too proud to say so). Likely it’s something to do with the PayPal process, usually your card has expired. I have no control over that.

Correction: I originally said “2017” in a several places. Because I’m still typing that by reflex. It’s fixed. 2018.


  1. For a few short years in my youth I made a living as a journalist. It was a small weekly paper, and I worked untold hours and only got paid for 36, but it kept a car in my name and put food in my belly from time to time, so I consider it making a living.

    I've lived a lot of years since then and I know I have stories to tell. But now I'm making house payments, so for me story telling takes a backseat to reliably making money, for now. But you have several stories to tell. And it appears you have the time to tell them.

    The bush I'm beating my way around is to say that you have a book in you Jim. Maybe several. I hope you have a file hidden somewhere that you work on from time to time that will result in a book. I look forward to reading it some day.

  2. Several things: First off - thank you for writing. I enjoy your comments on FB and I enjoy your essays. You generally say what I am thinking and can't express. How crazy is that??

    I've been with you for what - three or four years now. Thank you for being there - for me.

    I am sorry to hear that the woodworking business shut down. I have been watching and checking for the wooden bowls that you do so well. I have wanted to purchase a couple for my children as gifts. I find them so beautiful and think that is what gifts should be. If you ever start again - well, i'll keep watching.

    Again, just thanks. Stay well. Keep writing!

    karon hartman

  3. Personally, I would love to see your essays reworked into a one-man play or reader's theater format.

  4. I've been a reader for years and years, and donated upon occasion. Today it dawned on me that I get as much or more from you as I do from the Washington Post, and I'm already sending them a monthly subscription fee. Only fair that I do the same for you. I just wish it could be more, but I'm right there with you putting kids through college... Thanks for all you do, Jim.

    Just try not to bash the SCA again. :-)

  5. The dates are as "2017".. perhaps that might need to be updated to 2018?

  6. I just sidled up to crazy and licked its ear...donation made.

  7. I've been donating through Patreon for a while now; I consider it a subscription, like three ingress I have to the NY Times and the Washington Post. Maybe it's time to up my subscription payment. Thanks for your writing. Your life experience and perspective are so different than mine, but I agree with so much of what you have to say. And if I don't agree, you've still given me something to think about.

  8. Maybe update profile to FL from AK?

  9. Thanks for all you do! I already pay NY times and Washington Post to read their content, so you should get paid for your content too. And because you adopted two of the CUTEST dogs from a rescue shelter.

    Also, because ShopKat was an awesome tuxedo like my cat is.

  10. I must respect you, because I just donated money I could have bought alcohol with. Thanks Warrant.

  11. Every month. Worth every penny. Thank you for your words!

  12. Couple questions:

    How much do the credit cards charge you to process donations and are they all the same?

    Why is a phone number needed?

    Thanks for your writing.

  13. Will get on that soon, to be sure.

  14. I've been following you for a few years now. I think you had just over 20,000 on Facebook back then. I have enjoyed reading your wide range of essays, even when I haven't agreed; and I've shared the link to Stonekettle Station so many times that I've bookmarked it on my phone. So, thank you

  15. Considering the amount of money I have coming in, I have no business donating to a writer. Also, I think that giving to charity promotes inequality. Of course charity is needed, so what can one do in certain situation? In your case I feel so strongly about your ability to maybe make a difference, I will give you what I feel I can intellectually rationalize. Oh, and what my wife will agree to. The enjoyment I have received from your writing, compared to what I have put out for lesser enjoyment makes me feel guilty.

  16. Your passion is not a commodity. It's only fitting that you rely upon the gift economy. Good luck and good fortune!

  17. Couldn't say it better than all who have commented above. Thanks for keeping a lot of folks sane. Here's to cheese sandwiches (hopefully not moldy). Many blessings to you and your family in 2018.

  18. I subscribe to my local paper to keep it local. And it's only local-ish. I don't subscribe to Washington Post or New York Times, although I've considered it more than once. I do however read you pretty regularly. So, I contributed a bit. Not much, mind, got my own bills to worry about, but I did. Don't always agree with you, frankly, I don't think I'd find you anywhere near as interesting if I did, but... You're interesting. And you have cute dogs. So that counts.

  19. I've been reading your writing for quite some time now, and I think it's about time I donate on a monthly basis. Thank you for all the words and thoughts, and may you do it as long as you love it.

  20. Well, it's not much, but I did throw in what I can at this time. I don't contribute to many requests, but this is worthwhile. Well written, entertaining, but most of all - informative. Thank you.

  21. Done. Long-time fan, and glad to be part of the community. Every now and then on Facebook one of my friends (my crowd is MUCH smaller than yours...) tells me "I started following Jim Wright on Facebook because of you." and I feel like I've done something useful as a citizen by introducing your insightful writing to them. Thanks for your efforts.

  22. Contributed a bit too. So worthwhile! I hope too that you'll find a way to get back into woodworking. No idea if you miss it, but I can imagine you do.

    Now, off to read Fortunate Son.

  23. Considering my luck with any kind of lottery or drawing (or even traffic lights), it's a good thing you mentioned that the donation was to receive written intellectual content. Which means that I may already be a winner.
    Happy dance. I win!

  24. Done and done. Keep up the good work.

  25. The chisels are calling
    It's back for an encore
    Back to the shavings that cover the floor
    - Mark Knopfler

  26. Done. $5/month for the cheese sandwiches (TELL me you’re not eating Velveeta).

  27. Thanks, been a long time lurker, now i have donated 10 a month as it is wort it big time.


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