Write For Yourself, Not For The Bucks
I wish I can turn back the time and tell myself to stop stressing about money. But the cold, harsh truth is that I can never stop stressing about money. Not a year ago, not now, and probably not in the next five years.
Sometimes I wonder why my mental health is crippling so much as I age. Then, I remember that’s because I’m now responsible for every aspect of my life. When I was younger, all I had to worry about was getting good grades and completing all my homework. I never had to worry about money, relationships, health etc. Life was so simple back then.
I remember the snarky comments and remarks my relatives made when they heard I was going abroad to pursue my bachelor’s in journalism. As Asians, we’ve been “brainwashed” since young that the only careers worth pursuing are doctor, teacher, engineer and scientist. My relatives tried to brainwash my mom to cut me financially to pursue a journalism degree abroad. Thankfully, my mom didn’t. And for the years I’d spent studying abroad, and for all the upcoming years, we kept and will keep hearing people say, “Really? You allowed your daughter to pursue journalism overseas?” “You’re gonna starve with that degree.”.
I wanted to give up many times. I would cry to my friends telling them I no longer wanted to pursue journalism. I had requested to switch to a STEM course in university but couldn’t do so due to visa restrictions. I’d done countless research on how I can turn this decision around and get a foot into the STEM industry. I was affected by the words of those nosy Asian aunties who (seriously) have nothing better to do or say than to cripple a teenager’s aspirations. However, I was also blessed to be surrounded by world class and soon-to-be world class journalists, writers and authors who’d convinced me that journalism would be a very rewarding industry.
My first permanent job after graduation was at a magazine company. It was not any random magazine you’ve never heard of. It was the home to renowned titles like Harper’s Bazaar, Marie Claire and Seventeen. It was pretty much a dream come true as I’d wanted to enter the magazine industry more than reporting about public affairs and council meetings.
Being a magazine writer was the (second) best time of my life (after the amazing overseas university life which will always come champion). It was stressful — staying till late at night to finish a time sensitive article, travelling all around the city to attend events, crying when your desired interviewee ghosts you, calling dozens of brands and colleagues to organise a photoshoot… The list goes on and on. I’ve had days when I’d work 9am — 12am. I’ve also had days when I’d to visit 4 different locations for work while also having to submit two well-written articles for publication. My schedule would sound absolutely mad but it was all work I was very happy to do. It was all the kind of stress I was happy to endure.
If money never existed, would we all be happier?
The financial worries caught up to me 6 months after I’d started working in the magazine company. I realised I was earning so much lesser than all my peers, and to make matter worse, they were all in the STEM industry which only made me feel even shittier about myself. I started questioning the decision I’d made to pursue journalism. Were my relatives right? Were my primary school teachers right? Am I doomed to earn peanuts for the rest of my life?
I spoke with a colleagues who then told me they all do freelancing jobs to stay afloat. Turns out, freelance writing is extremely common among magazine writers. Even more common compared to news journalists. Seeing as how it’s so common in my industry, I decided to do so too. I was very money focused when I launched my freelance career. I would churn out countless of stories, send my pitches to countless of editors, only to receive rejection emails in return. I understood that it’s perfectly normal for freelancers to receive rejections but I started comparing my freelance job to my magazine job. Why is it that the articles I wrote for the magazine received great tractions but nobody bats an eye on my freelance articles? The magazine’s title plays a huge role, of course, but there must be something else I’d missed.
This went on for a couple of months until one day when I decided to publish a freelance article I’d written in the magazine. As I tried to revise the content to fit for the magazine, I was extremely unsatisfied with what I’d written. In fact, I kept questioning myself why I wrote those sentences. Why did I present it this way? Why did I include this information? Why DIDN’T I include this information? It was then did I realise that it’s because I’ve been writing my freelance articles for the wrong audience.
I’d written it for money. Not for readers.
You may be thinking, “What’s the difference? When I write for the magazine, I still write for money, isn’t it?”
Not exactly. Regardless of how many or little articles I write for the magazine, I still get paid the same amount. This makes money worry a constant. I wouldn’t earn any lesser if I’ve published 5 stories lesser compared to last month. I wouldn’t earn more vice versa. So instead of dwelling about money, I focused on writing what readers would want to read, what I wanted to read. Writing for the magazine also felt a lot easier because I was familiar with the house style and had established a name on the platform, a name readers would feel connected to after frequently seeing on the byline.
It’s difficult, almost impossible, to explain in words how writing for readers and money differ. If people say they get along well with someone because of good vibes, I’d say articles written for readers simply have a deeper essence. When I read my freelance articles with money in mind, they sound well crafted. But once I shift my focus from money to essence, those articles were almost too difficult to digest. The damage didn’t stop right there. When you write for money, you write what you think the readers want to read. And bear in mind that we live in a world where people would rather seek for comforting lies instead of listening to unpleasant truths.
Now, I’m not saying that articles that do well all contain lies. What I’m saying is, when writing for money, we often subconsciously cherry pick some information to include and exclude so as to make the story more compelling. Even if you’re consciously choosing what to include and exclude, your mindset does reflect in your writings to a certain extent. The emotions you feel are conveyed in the words you write, whether you see them or not at that moment. For someone who has written countless of personal stories, I find this very true.
I almost lost my identity and didn’t recognise who I was through my money-focused writings.
I had an identity crisis when I read through all the freelance articles I’d written. The personal stories I’d written were far from what I really wanted to convey. It was sugarcoated to a point where I could only wish that was the case. My true emotions were way deeper than what I’d described, and the pain I felt were so much more intense that how I’d painted it with the words of my choice. The experience I went through was labelled “horrendous”, “appalling”, “insufferable”, yet I’d discounted the experience as a simple bygone. I tried to sell stories I thought would sell well, not stories that identify with readers, or even my true self.
The moment I started writing for myself, I felt liberated. It didn’t lessen the pain I was (and am) going through but it allowed me to feel. It allowed me to continue being me unapologetically. I’d put a pause on my freelance work when I went through this ordeal of finding myself again and realising my true words, and soon, opportunities presented themselves in front of me.
Writing about personal stories is intensely painful because I’ll be ripping apart wounds that are in the process of healing.
Being transparent on the internet is extremely difficult. Nobody wants to air their dirty laundry for the whole world to see, nor are they willing to show the world how vulnerable they really are. Sometimes, I find solace sharing a piece of the broken me to my readers. Sometimes, I feel vulnerable and exposed. There’s a balance to find here and it’s not an easy task, especially when your emotions shift quickly like the wind moving without direction.
I’ve had people asking me if writing brings me peace and comfort. My answer? Hell no. It stirs up my emotions, creating whirlwinds that eventually evolve to tornados and result in a huge disaster inside of my head, my heart, my mind, my soul. Writing about personal stories is intensely painful because I’ll be ripping apart wounds that are in the process of healing. So no, writing doesn’t bring me solace. What it offers me is, a space to be myself unapologetically; A space for me to flood the blank pages with all the emotions I have inside; A space to paint the blank canvas with bleeding colours of my pain.
