Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The cruel truth about exposure

Hating all the business end of this? Opt out with a "conglomerate" like Gawker, a network that includes Wonkette and Gizmodo, or Weblogs Inc, specializing in tech, media and science. On a more relaxed end of the spectrum – not requiring 10 to 12 posts a day – are profit-sharing schemes like Examiner.com and Today.com, which feature a range of unedited bloggers under one banner.

Once the companies have taken their cuts of Google Adsense and other revenue streams, writers rarely see more than pennies. And clips from outlets like that can hinder a professional-hopeful more than help... An emerging author is better off posting on her own site or volunteering for a reputable webzine.

Still, any way you slice it, the deal's better than "reader blogs" currently offered by companies like p-i.com and the revered blog-giant Huffington Post, which hog all the income with honeyed promises of "exposure" in return.

As wags put it, "why would I want exposure? People die from exposure". You want to meet the bills each month. Find a network that's on the ball about tech support, promotion and search engine optimization. Otherwise you might as well remain a one-man band...

Screenwriter Harlan Ellis rants memorably about all this on a preview of the documentary Dreams with Sharp Teeth. "You gotta pay me ... By what right would you call me and ask me to work for nothing? Do you get a paycheck? Does your boss get a paycheck? Do you pay the Telecity guy? Do you pay the cameraman? Do you pay the cutters? Do you pay the teamsters when they schlep your stuff on the trucks? Would you go to the gas station and ask for free gas? Would you go to the doctors and ask them to take out your spleen for nothing? How dare you call me and ask me to work for free?"

Publicity was the answer. And, as Ellis points out, that has little value. How many DVD viewers will enjoy his interview, then seek out and purchase one of his books? "I should do a freebie for Warner Brothers? What, is Warner Brothers out with an eye-patch and a tin cup on the street? Fuck no!

"I sell my soul, but at the highest rates."

 

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