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| My final Local article about my ice cream commercial (among other things) |
When I first entered the fray, there were scads of publications
that swooned over well-crafted short-form non-fiction. As a new freelance writer,
I was heady with the possibilities, most of which paid a decent sum. A site
that published one of my essays paid me $500!!!! While that lofty number was an
anomaly, paychecks of $300 were not unusual. Wow! I told myself. I can DO this
writing thing, and be adequately recompensed to boot!
My first hint that something was amiss came a while back when,
VERY shortly after publishing a piece of mine, Metropolis (a Philly-based site, featuring some really strong
writing) folded. Surely just a coincidence! thought I. And for a while,
everything else was going swimmingly. I wrote for niche publications like Racked (all about shopping). I scored with
the local NPR outlet, Speakeasy, and quite
a few times with The Philadelphia
Inquirer. I discovered Purple Clover,
dedicated to Baby Boomers, and had a couple of essays featured in quick
succession. And I became a regular columnist for The Chestnut Hill Local, a stellar small newspaper that published more
than 60 of my pieces in the course of nine years.
Last summer, I got word that Racked was no more. Speakeasy
reduced its essay offerings from weekly, to monthly, and even then skewed towards
commentary on hard news (my “news” is pillowy soft). The new op-ed editor at
the Inquirer eschewed the
slice-of-life essay entirely. Purple
Clover ceased operations in November. And, a final nail in my freelance
coffin, my dear editor at the Local
just last week informed me that the paper was undergoing a total revamp and,
(guess what?) based on the smaller number of website “clicks” personal essays
received (compared to the police report items), there would be no more column
for me or my essayist ilk.
I am still peddling my wares, but to a dwindling clientele.
It seems the survivors of the purge are either the Pantheon (NYT, Washington Post, The Atlantic, etc.) or sites that pay
chump change (my favorites are the ones who compensate only by the view, and
payment kicks in when you top 1000 views. Now THAT’s motivating! Not!) I am
eager to build up my freelancing resume for sure, but at age 62 feel that a payment
of $30 is honestly not worth my while.
I love writing, and reading others’, essays. They are
windows into my scribbling sisters’ and brothers’ souls, and offer me wonderful
new ways to observe and reflect on life. I challenge you, my dear readers, who
have borne with me through 318 blog posts/essays (but who’s counting?) Pick up
a magazine (or check one out online). Search for the personal essays. Champion
them, these terrific bite-size bits of insight. Be part of a rising tide that floats all writing boats.
Let’s be harbingers of a renaissance, not witnesses of a sad literary ending.
"I'm Looking Over a Four Leaf Clover"
