It’s been much harder than I expected making a living working in the arts. And yet, I’ve been supporting myself writing mostly fiction and opinion for almost thirty years.
I’m not a household name, and I’m not “rich” exactly. I’ve also had plenty of writing failures.
But I’m financially comfortable. And I know a lot of writers who have had similar careers.
What’s the secret to our writing success? How have we managed to make a consistent living in the crazy business of writing?
Here are the things that have worked for me and many writers I know:
Have Something New and Genuinely Different to Say
There is a lot of written content in the world right now. Has anyone noticed?
No, seriously, the world is currently awash in podcasts, video channels, websites, and newsletters. Plus, there are still plenty of “traditional” media that also rely on the written word: books, movies, and TV shows. And then all these social media accounts are also constantly churning out new content.
So why should anyone consume yours?
Even worse, much of the world’s existing content is free. Given the existing media landscape, even if you somehow get people to read what you’re writing, how in the world do you get them to pay you for that writing?
One way is to write something extraordinary.
Over the course of my career, I’ve talked to dozens of film and literary agents, book editors, and movie producers, and they always tell me the same thing: the vast majority of what they see is bad — amateurish and/or cliched. And most of the rest is competently done, maybe even “professional,” but there’s nothing especially interesting or “new” about it.
This is my sense too: there’s a deluge of written content in the world today, but most of it is either bad, or competent but mediocre. So when something is fresh and different, it stands out like a lighthouse in the fog.
I’m not saying my content is brilliant. But it’s at least been different enough to get me some attention over the years.
Focus Your Work and Make it a “Brand”
When writer Tom Peters first introduced the concept of the “personal brand” back in 1997, he provoked a huge backlash. The idea itself was dehumanizing! Must we commodify everything — even ourselves?
But he’d recognized that with the rise of the internet, we were entering an age of essentially infinite content. And if you want to succeed in a world like that, you simply have to find a way to stand out.
One way to do that is to, yes, create incredible content — something fresh and different. But with so much content, even that isn’t necessarily enough. So what else can you do?
You can market your content. And the single most powerful marketing tool ever created is the “brand.” It tells the consumer who you are and exactly what you’re selling.
In creating a writing brand, a writer focuses their content, making it more easily recognizable and memorable.
And no, I don’t think this means dumbing the content down. On the contrary, I think most successful artists have always created “brands,” even if they were doing it intuitively. We all know exactly what a “Stephen King novel” is, just like we all have a sense of a “Steven Spielberg movie.”
These are especially good examples because both King and Spielberg eventually expanded their writing brands — but only after they had first solidified them in everyone’s minds.
I think the single biggest mistake of my own writing career was listening to an early mentor who told me: “Don’t focus on any one thing. You should publish in lots of different genres. Dazzle people with your versatility!”
I wish I’d listened to my gut, which told me: Hmm, before I try to do “everything,” maybe I should try to make a name for myself by doing one thing really well.
And if, as a content creator, you contain multitudes that cannot possibly be contained within a single brand? Create different brands.
The “brand” of the newsletter I write with my husband Michael, Brent and Michael Are Going Places, is: travel and life advice from a personal perspective. The brand of this newsletter and website, The Real Story, is: pointed and realistic writing advice from an older, experienced writer.
And, frankly, they’ve both been quite successful. And because they are such clear brands in my mind, they’re now relatively easy to produce.
Just Show Up
In 1977, the filmmaker Woody Allen famously said, “Eighty percent of success is [just] showing up.”
For a long time, I didn’t understand what he meant. That’s ridiculous! I thought. Success takes so much more than just being there.
But now I think I do understand: he meant take your profession seriously. Be consistent and act like a professional. Network but not selfishly: do it in a way that makes you important to others. And when it comes specifically to writing, stick to your vision but consider your audience and be open to feedback. Pay attention to your victories, and if something doesn’t seem to be connecting, pivot to the thing that is.
Meanwhile, when it comes to content creation, “showing up” means not doing things like:
Waiting for inspiration to strike. If your writing is driven entirely by passion, it won’t happen very often. If you’re creating entirely by passion, yes, there’s no need to plot, or outline, or even plan ahead. But when your passion dissipates, which it absolutely will, the project stalls — usually at about twenty percent in.
Being a dilettante, flitting from one project to the next, but never really focusing on any one thing. This is fun, and by doing this, you might sometimes even end up with a completed project or two. But it probably won’t be very polished or professional, and you’ll probably remain a master of none with no clear brand.
Completely ignoring the market and other business concerns. No one should ever write “for the market” or blindly follow popular trends, but one of the ways that both gatekeepers and audiences determine if something is “professional” is if it follows at least some basic conventions. If your name is Christopher Nolan or Quentin Tarantino, you can break every rule. If it’s not, you’re just wasting everyone’s time.
There’s nothing wrong with any of these behaviors. But in my experience, they peg you as a very obvious amateur.
Know Your (Real) Worth
Speaking of being an amateur versus a professional, it’s very common to hear frustrated writers say: “Writers should be paid for their work!”
And we absolutely should be!
But what many people who say this don’t understand is that writing — and all content creation, at least in 2024 — isn’t anything like a traditional career.
First, it’s inherently enjoyable — so enjoyable that scores of people do it for free. And second, it’s incredibly competitive. Remember that great wash of content I mentioned?
No, as I’ve written before, a career in any of the arts is less a traditional “job” and more like a career as a professional athlete.
And, well, no athlete gets paid at the amateur level — by definition. Like professional athletes, writers need to prove their value in advance. That means “showing up,” and writing something genuinely new and different, and effectively marketing it and packaging it into some kind of brand.
But that’s just the start. Then you need to find someone who thinks your content will make them some money: an editor at a publishing house, perhaps, or a movie or TV studio.
Alternatively, you can post your content on an existing media platform that will directly make you money — in the form of ad or subscription revenue.
(You can also play the SEO/algorithm game, writing online content specifically designed to attract traffic and revenue-generating “hits.” But as with AI-generated content, I’m not sure this is anyone’s idea of what it means to be “a writer.”)
The greater point is that, in 2024, most writers of fiction and/or opinion only get paid if someone perceives that you can make them money (in the case of traditional media like books and movies) or if you already are making someone money (in the case of online media).
Find Different Revenue Streams — as Many as Possible
How does a professional writer get paid in 2024 anyway? And how does anyone make a consistent living?
For me, the key has been having multiple revenue streams. This also means there’s at least some money coming in even during the lean years.
Over the decades, I’ve published fourteen novels, both traditionally and self-published. I’ve also written more than thirty screenplays — ten of which have been optioned by producers, and two of my writing projects have subsequently been turned into feature films.
A few years ago, my husband and I started a paid-subscription newsletter, Brent and Michael Are Going Places, and that’s been successful too.
What does this mean in terms of actual dollars?
It’s been a few years since I’ve sold a traditional book or movie project, and I haven’t released any self-published titles lately either, but I still receive royalty and option payments from older works. Unfortunately, this year, that will be less than $10,000 USD.
But regular readers know I’m currently a big fan of new and online media, and these days, I’m doing much better there.
Michael and I launched our Brent and Michael Are Going Places newsletter three years ago. With both of us working half-time on the project, the first year, it earned us less than $10,000. But our income from the project has more than doubled every year since then, and we now make about $60,000 from three different sources.
We currently make about $25,000 a year from paid subscriptions via the Substack platform.
We make another $15,000 from certain targeted affiliate links.
And we make another $20,000 from syndication deals we’ve made with other platforms and websites that have approached us with offers to reprint our content.
So this year, I’ll make around $70,000 from my writing. Some years, I’ve made more than this, and many years, I’ve made less.
Still, I get paid to do what I love, and I think that’s pretty great.
Brent Hartinger is a screenwriter and author. Check out his other newsletter about his travels at BrentAndMichaelAreGoingPlaces.com.
Thank you, this is the best advice for fiction writers I’ve read on Substack.
As you've pointed out, adapting to constant change is key. Substack newsletters weren't even a thing 20 years ago. Genres and styles go in and out of fashion. As one income stream closes, another (ideally) opens up.