sydney jackson

Being a writer is such a weird experience. Objectively speaking, anyone who writes on a regular basis can claim the role. Yet, to consider it as a creative medium at times feels limiting and undermining. Writing for a living is even weirder. In my five years of professional writing experience, this is the first year that I project getting paid for what I do. Five years is a long time to be doing anything, let alone trying to turn it into your whole career. For as long as I can remember, writing was my life. From high school poems to critical college research essays to media analysis, all i’ve know is putting pen to paper (or finger to keypad).

Now, as a 24 year old who has completed their fifth writing internship and is about to sign on to their first official editorial job, I’ve grown to loathe writing. The world does not care about writers, as evident by the vast range of unpaid internships and criminally low waged jobs designed to prey on those who hope to one day “make it” as a paid employee. I’ve applied to enough editorial internships, editorial assistant positions, and contributing writer jobs to know that the market for writers is full of empty promises and exploitation.

I recently finished an internship for an upcoming media company and was offered to continue employment as an independent contractor earning a monthly retainer. I had been waiting since I started working with said company to finally acquire my first, real editorial job with pay, something that is often discouraged from happening without extensive years of previous experience. Just imagine my sadness and disappointment when I was told that I would be getting paid less than $200 a month. Mind you, it’s been a year since I quit my last retail job that was paying me roughly $800+ month, due to burnout, stress, and unfavorable working conditions.

If I wasn’t already in a privileged position of living rent-free with family, I would be more depressed than I already am. Thus, my question to companies that offer freelance/consistent paid work after completing an unpaid internship role:

Do you enjoy exploiting young professionals all for the sake of engagement and clicks?

It feels as if I am at my wits end when it comes to pursuing a writing career, as I am proven time and time again that it is not worth it. Even if I had a full time job with actual benefits and reasonable pay, I wouldn’t see the point in trying to find work as a writer. Either no one is actually hiring, the expected workload does not match the pay, or most of these media companies only care about churning out meaningless, soulless content rather than work that people would actually want to read.

I fear that the term “writing is dead” might actually be true. Journalism is at its worst than it’s ever been, as demonstrated by that infamous interview with Julia Roberts, Andrew Garfield, and Ayo Edebiri back in September. I genuinely understand how Diane from Bojack Horseman felt when she started writing for Girl Croosh.

I don’t even like telling people that I’m a writer or acknowledging my accomplishments through cover letters and resumes. Not because I’m not proud of what I have done in my life, but because I genuinely believe no one gives a fuck.

It’s times like these that I wonder if my mom was right about going into something more stable, like nursing. I also know that I’m not the only one feeling this way, either. It’s a strange, frustrating, and depressing time for a lot of artists. AI is killing industries; CPMs, SEOs, and algorithms are controlling the narrative for what gets pushed, and there is no one to save us from any of it.

If there’s anything that I am confident in, is my creativity. I know that I have something to offer and I know that I am worth more than a couple hundred bucks a month. Unfortunately, I have no choice but to work harder and go ten times as hard for myself, just so that I can survive. It’s a cruel world, but it’s also an opportunistic one.