The conversation about money (or privilege) is the one we never have. Why? I think it’s the Marie Antoinette syndrome: Those with privilege and luck don’t want the riffraff knowing the details. After all, if “those people” understood the differences in our lives, they might revolt. Or, God forbid, not see us as somehow more special, talented and/or deserving than them.
There’s a special version of this masquerade that we writers put on.
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We do an enormous “let them eat cake” disservice to our community when we obfuscate the circumstances that help us write, publish and in some way succeed.
“Sponsored” by My Husband – fantastic Salon essay by Ann Bauer on “why it’s a problem that writers never talk about where their money comes from.”
Complement with Amanda Palmer on undoing the oppressive notion that artists aren’t supposed to talk about money and Henry Miller on how our relationship with money got this way.
(via explore-blog)
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Finally, someone wrote about this. I feel like everyone who considers a career in any kind of arts should read this Salon essay.
Plus, I’m about 90% sure that I’ve met the person in example number two – meeting her first in her beautiful Brooklyn house, the one I loved so much, and wondered how a couple of sweet kind people, same age as me, managed to accomplish so much, happily doing the creative work they loved.
And what have I done wrong, still unable to achieve in any foreseeable future, even after selling my soul and my years as a slave to an investment bank.
tinfoilparachute 