The Creative Hustle: How artists make it pay. Interview 3 - The Writer and Performer

The Creative Hustle: How artists make it pay The Writer and Performer Profile: 003 // Gender: Male // Age: 29

I've actually only been freelancing full time for coming up to a year now. Before then I was also supplementing my income by working part time in a coffee shop; the majority of my money came from that. When the pandemic hit, suddenly I had all this free time on furlough that I didn't have to spend in a coffee shop. And I used that time to apply for more funding opportunities to develop my artistic side a bit more. And that ended up aligning pretty well - at the same time the coffee shop got rid of me, I was offered a writing commission over a series of months. And that basically paid very well.

And I thought okay, well this is my chance: I'm going to take a dive in and try to do the whole self employed artist thing.

So far, [over the last 11 months] I've made just over £15,000.

I got funding of £5,000 from Creative Scotland’s Open Fund. It was the second time I applied - I got rejected the first time but they were very helpful in terms of telling me what I did wrong in the first

application. For that funding application I settled on a day rate of £100 a day. I looked up some figures on the National Theatre of Scotland website, and did some cross checking with the ITC [Independent Theatre Council] rates of pay. £100 looked like the minimum that people would say, as a day rate. And because I still considered myself a new artist, I thought, okay, I'll stick with the low figure.

The writing commission was an open application. They were very upfront about the pay. It was £1,200 over 4 months, with an expectation of producing at least one piece per month. It’s difficult to say how that works out as a day rate; the [amount of] work ebbs and flows. The first few months I was interviewing loads of people, then later it was more editorial kind of work.

I also finalised a poetry collection. I've been working on that for a few years. Poetry pays pretty much nothing.

For that collection, I get my royalties next month, so I haven't actually seen any money from it apart from books that I've sold

myself. I'm pretty pleased with the reception; I'm expecting royalties of around £600-£800.

This year I made £5,000 working with [a Scottish theatre] on two different projects. One project was community engagement running workshops with local people, and the other was a short film - that was a lot less work, basically just a week in the studio. That’s been a big earner for me.

At the other end of the scale, I made a poetry film for [a national TV company]. I got a lot of other gigs from it, and it ended up being a big thing online. But at the same time, financially, I only made £43 from it. I was warned there wouldn't be a lot of money, and the fee was split between me and the person who filmed it, and there were travel expenses to pay. So in terms of engagement, that film reached tens of thousands of people. And yet, financially, it was just… I don't want to say it was a waste of time, because, clearly, I enjoyed it. But it didn't make much financial sense to do.

It still makes me angry that that's all I got paid, I have to admit.

I don't want to promote this idea of exposure - artists getting paid in exposure which I think is horrible. But at the same time, because it's [TV company], if you think about some of the events that came out of that, perhaps it was worth a lot more than £43. But the thing that really shocked me was that they didn't even pay for the travel, or the expenses. I think that's something that I've been learning as I go: my expectations of how much I'll get paid will be very adaptive, depending on who's booking me or who I'm approaching. If it's a small venue or organisation, I think I'm just doing this because it's

cool, and it's fun, and I enjoy it. And I know they'll treat me as well as they can. Whereas for people like [Scottish theatre company], or bigger names, I'm much more sort of liable to say [firmly] - this is my day rate.

I don’t have a partner, I live on my own. I don't have any dependents or caring responsibilities. So it's just looking after myself. I did a Masters back in 2014-15. The only reason that I could pay for that is because I’d just received an inheritance. Not millions, but substantial enough that I could afford to do a Masters. And I'm very grateful for that. It's still something that motivates me. I feel like I used that money to do that Masters so that I could hone my craft better, and I could build connections, and now I can't let that go to waste. I do feel the pressure from it sometimes. And sometimes that's good. And sometimes that's bad. But it's definitely a motivating factor behind what I do.

After I finished the Masters I worked in very low paid jobs that didn't require me to use a lot of mental energy.

And my thought was that I'd have the mental energy to be creative [outside of work]. But I always hated those jobs just because they took away time that I wanted to spend doing other things. Whereas now [as a freelancer], everything is much more about money.

Obviously I love what I do, and I feel very lucky. But sometimes it does feel like I'm going for opportunities or doing things because of the money - I guess it's the difference between a hobby and doing things professionally. I've described it before as feeling a bit like a mercenary. You’re looking at a commission, and instead of reading the job description first, your eyes go straight to the fee.

I look back now and see certain projects that were much more motivated by the money side of things [than the artistic opportunity].

And I kind of wish I hadn't done them. But at the same time, the fact that I did them meant I could afford to pay the bills. But some of that creative work is going to be out there forever now. And that's just something that I have to accept, even if I'm not the happiest with the actual creative work that I did.

It’s helped having friends who have gone through similar things, and being part of a wider artistic or literary kind of network. There's been a couple of times when I've asked people for their advice about fees, or about work-life balance. Having those networks definitely feels like a safety net as well, in terms of they're looking out for me, and I'm looking out for them. I've also used various online writing networks - including some that are specifically for BAME writers.

Whilst those networks are really important, at the same time there can be some trepidation sometimes with approaching people I know [to ask for advice]. Because you feel like you should be really grateful for the opportunities that you get, and sometimes you’re aware that the person you’re speaking to would like those opportunities. There's this weird sort of competitive element to creativity, in terms of the financial opportunities. And so while I

definitely want to emphasise the positives, and the importance of having those friendship networks and people behind you, it's much more nuanced than that. And the fact that money makes us more competitive is a real shame.

In terms of which jobs I get, ethnicity plays on my mind a lot.

Because I'm mixed race, I'm sort of like half BAME / half not. What does that mean? Does that mean I can apply everywhere? Reading the descriptions you think: Is that me? Is that not me? It's definitely something that I think causes me to second guess opportunities.

And then the flip side of that is sometimes I get offered things and either wonder, or just know, that the only reason they're doing it is to tick a box - they need a minority ethnic performer on their bill.

And that feels equally as bad - either way. I just want you to enjoy my work and to want to book me because of my work. I don't want ethnicity to have any kind of bearing on why you're why you're approaching me.

And in terms of artform - poetry pays very little, especially compared to some of the more performance-based, or theatre stuff I do. And yet, oftentimes, there's very little crossover in terms of personnel and organisations between those two things. It's quite weird occupying these two different artistic spaces. And with terms like emergent artists, experienced artists, early career opportunities - I don't know what I am anymore.

The Creative Hustle is a research project conceived and delivered by Kathryn Welch (www.kathrynwelch.co.uk), delivered with support from Creative Scotland’s Stay, See, Share fund.