Time to ruminate on the publishing industry again. Last time we discussed rejection letters; today we’ll flip to the “yes” side of the business decision and discuss money.

Today we’re also going to begin talking about Someone Else’s Blog. This is sort of nervous making. Last time I talked about Someone Else’s Blog, Someone Else noticed. At least then I had unqualified nice things to say.

I’m afraid I’m going to have to disagree with today’s Someone Else. In sequential, multi-part format. I hope he doesn’t mind.

Please dial your browsers to nickwolven.com, specifically the March 20th post in which he argues against paying first-time novelists any advances whatsoever.

*blink* *blink*

Speaking as an not-yet-published novelist myself, I disagree violently. I’d like to one day make a living with my fiction, the kind that pays off the mortgage and keeps my husband from needing a day job. I know very well that’s something most writers never manage, but why make it an even harder dream to realize?

There’s a lot of meat in Mr. Wolven’s post for a contentious writer like m’self to pick bones over. The bone for today is here:

I’m someone who’s willing to entertain the notion that artists don’t necessarily need to get paid at all and that market economies may not be the best system of artistic exchange.

I read that, and I think, “Ah. In other words, let’s not sully the holy arts with filthy lucre.” The problem with that kind of thinking is, “I’m a writer” doesn’t pay the bills. “Here’s some money” does.

I think there’s actually two issues at play here. First, is creating art something we, as a society, value enough to reward artists for? This question ultimately decides whether writing can be considered a career and not, say, a much-appreciated hobby. Second, if artists are to be rewarded, is there a better system for it than by paying them money based on the sales of their art?

You can probably guess my that my answer to the first question is “Hell yes.” Mr. Wolven may disagree, and very much seems to when he devalues novelists’ work by saying that they “[have] risked only the funds for an envelope and a handful of stamps.” He recognizes that writing a novel takes a lot of time and effort, but dismisses that effort as “emotionally rewarding,” something the author would do anyway and is already being sufficiently rewarded for before money even hits the table. Well, my husband finds computer programming to be “emotionally rewarding,” too, but if anyone tried taking away his paycheck on the grounds that the emotional rewards are sufficient to account for the hours spent in mental toil, he’d be a bit miffed.

One recognized path to happiness in the modern western world is “making a living doing what you enjoy.” Mr. Wolven appears to mildly favor the idea of taking away the “making a living” part because of the “what you enjoy” part of that sentence. Are we only allowed, in this thought-box, to make money performing unenjoyable drudgery? Surely not!

The second issue–whether we can improve our system for remunerating artists–is complex enough to be worth its own blog. I think that the current system of royalties, estimated sales, and advances is the best possible answer within our current economic structure.

True, there was a time when role of storyteller was considered an important enough role that the entire tribe supported them. But tribes were small and their economy wasn’t product-based. And the role of storyteller was as much assigned by the tribe as chosen by the artist. And the responsibility of the storyteller was greater than “entertain me during my flight from Denver to New Orleans.” Generally speaking, the storyteller didn’t just entertain–he was the memory and the teacher of the tribe.

Today our “tribes” are huge, a lot of people are vying to be storytellers, and books are seen primarily as entertainment products. Our product-based economy isn’t structured well for rewarding authors based on their stories’ ability to lift the mind of the reader into new realms. Various guilds and associations do try to do that, with varying levels of success. But while Nebulas and Hugos and Caldecott Medals may make it easier to get that next book contract, a publisher can’t exactly determine royalty rates and advances based on award-winning potential.

The idea of the writer as national treasure isn’t entirely unworkable. Ireland has famously tax-exempted all income from creative works enacted on her soil. But such a scheme only mitigates the self-employed nature of writing; it doesn’t pay for rent and groceries. And since it’s attractive enough nevertheless to cause writers and musicians to move to Ireland, the scheme puts enough of a burden on that nation such that there’s been talk in recent years of scrapping the scheme entirely. Being ahead of other developed nations in valuing the arts is unfortunately its own punishment.

Now imagine if one country decided to not only exempt writing income from taxes but also to pay all writers a living wage. Such a scheme would be terribly ripe for abuse. But let’s pretend that a majority of nations enacted this plan simultaneously so that no mass artist immigration resulted. And let’s pretend that there were reasonable standards based on output and quality that prevented just anyone capable of stringing sentences together from benefitting. Fine and good… except, what happens when the writer’s works are critical of or distasteful to the current government administration? In the end, arguments against government-sponsored art are similar to arguments against government entanglement with religion.

So that brings me back around to the current system of treating writers as producers of entertainment and paying them accordingly.

Mr. Wolven appears to come round to the same conclusion, because the product-based economy provides the sole reasoning behind his apparently grudging admission that novelists in general should get paid.

Given that someone’s making money off first novels, though, shouldn’t first novelists see some of that dough? It only seems fair.

So while he doesn’t seem to find a writer’s “emotionally rewarding,” Muse-ridden labor to be worth monetary rewards on the basis of it being, y’know, labor,, at least he’s willing to see that labor rewarded on the grounds that it is essential to the production of a money-making product.