Huffington Post lies about writers

When Huffington Post editor, Stephen Hull, said that HuffPo was proud not to pay its writers, freelancers everywhere exploded in anger. And rightfully so.

The direct quote is as follows:

"If I was paying someone to write something because I want it to get advertising, that’s not a real authentic way of presenting copy. When somebody writes something for us, we know it’s real, we know they want to write it. It’s not been forced or paid for. I think that’s something to be proud of."

First, and most easily attacked was the underlying assumption that exposure for your craft should be the ultimate reward. To which writers aptly said, exposure doesn't pay our bills. The subset of that argument being that writing is not work, but art, and only passion, unpaid, is authentic.

The NewStatesman makes a good point here.

"When [Hull] is ill, he must have to research his symptoms online instead of visiting a [general practitioner], because their salaries mean the diagnoses they give aren't real."

When people are sick, really sick, and they can afford it, they will fly across the country to get the highest-paid doctor they can. Because the more specialized, more experienced, more practiced doctors and surgeons make more for their time. It is the same with nearly every profession, and something nearly everyone aspires to. Get more experience, get better at your job so that people will pay you more.

As journalism is a profession--it is our job to parse current events for the public, to place them into historical and cultural context, to bring up angles people may not think about without prodding, to speak to the nuance of each issue and place it in its rightful category as consumable information, and to do it all in a way that is engaging and interesting to the reader so that the publications (some of whom do not pay the writer) can continue to get paid (by whom? The very same advertisers Hull was speaking about).

We have a job. And the better we are at it, the more we should be paid.

Chuck Wendig also draws apt comparisons here, on his blog, Terrible Minds.

"Imagine walking into a building and realizing nobody paid anybody to lay the bricks that built the walls. Imagine sipping a drink and realizing that nobody got paid to build the machine that makes the can or what is inside it — nobody got paid to formulate the beverage or drive cases to stores or put the cans on shelves. Imagine that those who made the most fundamental component of the drink — the drink itself — never get paid. They were told that work was a privilege. They were told that to get paid to do those things would somehow make the process crass. It would make it impure."

But there are two things about this Hull debacle that haven't really been fleshed out, aside from writing being work for which people should be paid.

Stating that paying writers results in tainted copy 1) is hugely false. and 2) is insulting to writers.

Okay, so how is it false?

The strain of logic upon which his argument is based is flawed. He's starting upon a groundwork of false comparison. In Hull's model, if writers are being paid for their work, they will use it to advertise something, and thus shred not only their credibility, but the credibility of the publication housing their words.

"If I was paying someone to write something because I want it to get advertising, that’s not a real authentic way of presenting copy."

This sentence doesn't make sense.

In fact, the very thing publications are paying for is the credibility Hull is trying to say such payment eradicates.

It is my job to interview sources on all sides of every issue when I am doing a reported piece. It is my job to spend the time on the phone, in my car, and face-to-face digging up facts and opinions from those involved. It is my job to produce for my publication bullet-proof copy that they can put their name behind, proudly. It is my job to set them apart from the rest of the pack in terms of integrity, poignancy and the emotion that can be stirred by word-smithing.

I am literally selling credibility. It is the payment that holds journalists accountable for their thoughts and words. It is the payment that entices us not to give in to easy, faulty logic or cheap shots we don't bother to investigate. This profession works the way every other profession works in the world. We want to do the best we can to get the best payment we can. Only our product isn't drinks, our service isn't health. It's credibility.

So to say payment decreases authenticity is a huge lie. Because authenticity is what you are paying for.

What else is the author selling?

"It's not been forced, or paid for."

Again, we are not Coca-Cola. We don't have any product to push, only words. Forcing someone to write something has a name. It's called public relations. And those writers do get paid. Not by publications, such as The Huffington Post, but by the corporations whose products depend on good buzz, like Coca-Cola.


The only thing HuffPo sells is words. (And it does sell them. I did a quick check. Today's Huffington Post comes to you thanks to Cox Communication.) Words it gets for free. If Coca-Cola could get engineers to formulate its next soft drink for free, I'm sure it would be over-the-moon, and ridiculously profitable. But you don't see Coke trying to tell people that paying engineers to come up with the formula results in a shittier drink. Because it doesn't. It results in a better drink. You don't see Coke trying to tell its engineers that if they were truly whole, well, good human beings, they would work on this for free so that their calculations wouldn't be tainted by the greed of the corporate world. Because that's fucking ridiculous.

It would be like dropping your kids off at free daycares only because people who get paid can't possibly love your child. In fact, all child care should be free. Because shouldn't people just love children for the sake of it? And if someone is getting paid to watch your child, doesn't it mean their work is less-than? They're doing a worse job? No, it doesn't. Because that's fucking ridiculous.

And that's where Hull adds insult to injury. Writers, and journalists in particular, pride themselves on the bare truth of their words. Everyone is right about passion, too. We are passionate about what we do. We think it is important, and we place huge pressure on ourselves to do it right.

So to imply that needing to eat at the same time is somehow a deadly blow to all we hold dear not only hurts our workers, and hence the very profession of writing, it insults the life path we have chosen. It insults who we are. It insults our values, it insults our personalities.

This statement by Hull isn't just your regular, run-of-the-mill defense of a shady corporate system (Huffington Post) profiting on the backs of starving artists working for free. It is an active attack on all writers everywhere.

It is time for The Huffington Post to fail. They have jumped the shark.

How to be a successful writer in the online age

There are three very simple steps to becoming a successful writer online. (It helps to have a well-shared platform, but it can be done even with a small publication or a blog. You never know what's going to take off.)

If you would like to be a successful writer on the internet, follow these instructions on repeat for the rest of your life:

1) Write things people hate.

2) Don't care that people hate them.

3) Write more things people hate.


So, as simple as these steps are, they need a bit of explanation, a bit of context, a bit of background.

When I started out writing, I wanted to write things people loved. That's how it used to be done. That's how you used to define "successful." Winning prizes for beloved, well-thought-out, important pieces that spread messages and information the public really needed or wanted to hear. Expanding horizons. Educating those who did not have the time or resources to do the research themselves, but wanted to go about their day informed and aware of certain issues.

It's a lofty and great goal.

It fails on the internet.

Of all my pieces, the ones I put the most hours in on--the investigative, the scientific, the health stories that I spent my sweat and tears on--they remain the pieces I am personally most proud of. But they languished in relative obscurity. I'd get a few thousand shares, and maybe 20 supportive comments. End scene.

The only reason I still write them at all is because they remain my personal reason for writing. And don't make the mistake of thinking success on the internet is why many writers write. Not true. It's just a necessary evil to keep yourself relevant as the wheels of internet debate continue to spin.

The pieces that propel an internet writer's career (and help it get into print) are the pieces everyone hates. They're provocative. They spin facts and figures to support an opinion that's controversial. They often exist just to attack something a set group loves illogically. (That group, for me, changes with each piece. Usually I'm pissing off conservatives, but I've made exceptions for Bernie Sanders supporters and liberals in general on occasion. I've pissed off people who like a certain show, people who like a certain brand, people who like boys to be boys and girls to be girls, transphobes, homophobes, classists, racists, and more. The point is, I'm always pissing someone off.)

Those pieces are usually shorter. They don't delve into the particulars of the situation as they should to be legitimate journalism. They ignore certain arguments to concentrate on one probably off-to-the-side point. They make strong assertions that would be seen by supporters as well-conceived, but lack the evidence to back those assertions up (usually not because there is no evidence but because that evidence is not needed to further the end-goal, which is clicks and shares so editors and publications continue to acknowledge you as a force on the internet). They're fun to write, and not difficult to write. They're fairly quick. A dash of oil on a fire already burning.

I wrote a piece about the Gilmore Girls two days ago, for instance, enraging fans everywhere. 11,000 shares so far. I wrote a piece on the Ferguson Riots, enraging conservatives everywhere, 40,000 shares. Meanwhile, my piece on groundbreaking stem cell research garnered 387 shares. My piece on human trafficking within door-to-door magazine sales groups got maybe 1,500 shares.

Write things people hate.

Okay, on to the second step. Rejection, either by editors or readers has never bothered me at all. In order to really excel at this business, you have to not care what people think about you. Remember, you're the one who keeps getting published. There's got to be something to that.

I've been asked how I manage to brush off the hatred, anger and malice tossed my way every single time I'm published, and here's what I've come up with. It can be a combination of any or all of these things for each piece that goes up.

Here is my fool-proof way to not give any fucks about what people think about your writing:

1) Don't care about the topic about which you are writing.
2) Care about what you are writing so much that you automatically assume haters lack reading comprehension or common sense.
3) Think that nothing you do is important, therefore comments from strangers on things you do must be absolutely miniscule.
4) Firmly believe that no one looks at bylines but you, and that a commenter who tells you to kill yourself over a piece about network television is probably the same commenter high-fiving you over a piece you wrote about Target.
5) Be used to people thinking you are worthless, and take pleasure in proving them wrong by being more successful, ambitious, tenacious or awesome than them.

Using these five methods, you should have the mental strength to pump out a piece that's been hate-shared 50,000 times along with comments like FIRE THIS WRITER, or GO PLAY IN TRAFFIC YOU DUMB CUNT, brush it off, and pump out a piece the next day that will anger an entire other population of people.

Do I wish this wasn't the case? Absolutely. I want to write enlightening, well-researched, bullet-proof tomes on important social issues of our times.

But that's not going to cut it. Not on the internet.

Good luck, soldier. We're in this together.

Pitching to a Publishing Company -- Guest Post

Have you dusted off that novel you've been working on during naptime yet? If not, you should. Today, I've got Kristen Duvall  from Fey Publishing talking about the largest obstacle to getting publishing...getting off a good pitch.

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When people think about the publishing industry, they often think of the big guys. You know who I'm talking about – HarperCollins, Penguin, Random House, etc.

But there are smaller presses out there too, and many of them doing pretty well. Small presses are a nice middle-ground between the big houses, who are notoriously hard to get signed with, and self-publishing, which while I support, may not be everyone's cup of tea. Some writers want the editorial help that comes with working with a publishing house. They also want someone else to handle cover design, formatting and the hundreds of other little things that go into publishing a book. Not to mention that some writers like having the publishing credit, and the ability to say they were picked up by a publishing house, no matter how small.

I'll be honest, I don't make much doing this – but I love it. I acquired Fey Publishing with a few books in the catalog already, but I've also put out several books on my own now too.  And I've learned a lot about the publishing industry along the way which helps me as a writer. (Yes, I do both. No, I never have any time for myself, why do you ask?)

One of the biggest lessons I've learned though, is an important one - How to grab an editor's attention.

Sure, I may be small, but I see a lot of submissions. I've read query letter after query letter, learned what turned me (and my staff readers) off right away and what intrigued me enough to pull a manuscript from the pile for a closer look.

Yes, the first step is writing a great novel. But in order to get noticed in a pile filled with hundreds of great manuscripts, you need to make yourself stand out. Since I am a small press, I'm unable to publish a ton of books at a time, so I have to be extra picky, and I have to turn down good novels all the time simply because I don't have the time to publish all of them.

So what worked? How did a writer manage to capture my attention?

1)  They were confident and ambitious. For example, when Charlotte Pickering submitted her manuscript, she included plans for the book that included a short film/trailer, songs performed by a local band that referenced the book, and meetings with important figures in her area. Before I even read her manuscript, I knew this woman believed in her book. And guess what? It made me believe in it too. I pulled up her manuscript right away, and just like I thought it would be, Messiah of the Slums is a success. And a large part of that success is because the author isn't afraid to put herself out there. Many public figures have ignored her e-mails and calls, but other key political and religious figures have given her glowing reviews.

That's also how Mallory Evans-Coyne caught my attention as well. Paisley Sage and the Hole in the Sky comes out in October, and already, Mallory is thinking big and getting her name out there. Both of these ladies set their goals high, but are willing to work for it and take chances. Their ambition packaged with a great novel is ultimately what made me sign them. It's also what will lead them to great, and well earned success.

2) Pay attention to the editor's interests. Oftentimes you'll see specific details about what they're looking for, or sometimes they share their interests via social media (look at #mswl on Twitter). Knowing that an editor is looking for a specific theme, tailor your query letter to reflect that theme. For instance, KL Mabbs read that I was looking for LGBT characters and strong women. He submitted his YA fantasy novel, Spellsword, and made sure to draw my attention to the fact that his main characters fit both those criteria.  He nailed two of my biggest wants right away, meaning his novel went to the top of the pile.

Unfortunately, I have to reject more submissions than I accept. Believe me, this is something I hate to do. And because I receive a lot of submissions, I can't read through all of them and expect to get any work done. Most of the time, I at least try to read through the first three chapters of a manuscript that piques my interest. But there are ways to lose me in the query letter and never even make it that stage.

So what doesn't work for me?

1) Over-confidence. Yes, confidence is great – but don't be an asshat about it. I once had someone submit their first novel to me (the first one they'd ever written, mind you) with a letter stating they had more talent than all the indie writers in the world combined. I'm not kidding. From the sound of the letter, this person wasn't going to take criticism well at all. They went on and on about how talented and perfect they were as a writer.  While I leave much of the creative control to the author, there are times when critical feedback and editing are necessary evils. This one – well – just based on the query letter, it sounded like more trouble than it was worth. Especially for an idea that didn't sound that original or unique to begin with. So it was a no.

2) Starting out a query letter by saying “I know your guidelines say you're not accepting {genre I don't accept}, but I believe my novel is different than the rest.”  For example, I clearly state “no children's books” and I get children's books on a regular basis. And oftentimes, the writer knows I'm not accepting that genre and includes a note right there in the query letter – usually in the first line.  I'm sorry, but guidelines are there for a reason. Ignoring them and firing me off a query letter anyway is a waste of your time as well as my time. And I wouldn't be doing you any favors by accepting your work either because I know NOTHING about that genre.

3) Not reading the guidelines at all.  Even if the genre is what I'm looking for, I still have simple directions on how to submit. Don't find my personal e-mail address and submit the novel there. There's a good chance it'll got lost if you do that. Don't e-mail the company e-mail address if it says to submit via Submittable. Again, likely to get lost.

I know most of this is probably common sense for most people, but sadly, things like these happen all too frequently. No one wants to go through all the trouble of writing an excellent book, submitting it somewhere and then never getting it read. Of course, there's no guarantee that even if it was read that it would be published, but following the simple guidelines might help increase the odds, if only a bit.