Or Something

A link from Realclearpolitics isn't always a traffic cloudburst. I got one today, and my traffic is lower than usual. Nice to be loved, however.

If I had to guess, I'd say the crew over at RCP is not all that excited about linking to me. A long time ago, they got in touch with me about linking something and republishing it on their site, and I was so reluctant to do it, they were probably offended. I just hate working for nothing. If you use someone's work on a for-profit website or in a magazine or whatever, you should damn well pay for it, even if it's only a few bucks. You can claim the exposure is worth more than the money, but it's still an insult, and it's bad for writers as a profession. I know of three types of people everyone loves to stiff: writers, realtors, and waiters. I don't know why people feel entitled to make slaves of us. Stupidity is probably a good part of it. Some people think nobody with a college degree actually works. Others think that unless you produce a physical product of some sort--a ditch or a chair or whatever--you aren't doing anything useful.

I have no patience with morons who say writing isn't working. I don't know if that's a piece of ingrained post-Marx idiocy passed down through blue-collar families, or what. It probably came straight from socialist Europe, via American labor unions. Anyway, I hear it a lot. Just because I'm not leaning on a shovel or pumping out your cesspool--just because I work with my brain instead of my ass--doesn't mean what I do isn't work. And I should be paid. Good writing is like anything else. If you want a reliable supply, you're going to have to pay the people who produce it.

Exposure is swell, and it's better than nothing. Sometimes it's so valuable and so generous, you wouldn't dream of accepting money on top of it. But it shouldn't be a default substitute for payment, when you can avoid it. You can't eat exposure. Sooner or later, to keep an enterprise going, someone has to part with a little cash.

The other day a blogger republished something of mine without permission. I was a little annoyed at first, but I think he has an unusual site worthy of supporting, and he's probably new at blogging, and his site isn't commercial. So I didn't complain. But commercial sites ought to help legitimize the people they publish, by paying at least a nominal fee. Writers need paying jobs in their resumes. Being milked by nonpaying cheapskates does not look good on your CV. It says "small time." It says you're a source of free filler.

When I started writing for money, I never got less that two hundred bucks for a piece. And that was a long time ago. Maybe Internet publishers can't afford two hundred bucks, but they can afford something. If it has to be exposure, it should be exposure that amounts to something. A permanent blogroll-style link. A small link to an Amazon page. A tip jar link. Something.

Anyway, apart from the writing I do here for the sake of exercise, I avoid working free of charge. If I didn't, I would be telling people exactly what I thought my work was worth. And like my grandmother told me, people will be happy to use you, as long as you are willing to let them. They won't hesitate, they won't be the slightest bit ashamed, and they will resent it when you complain. Parasites are fine, but a person who expects to be rewarded for his work is a jerk.

Granny was right. And my editor was right when he told me not to publish bits of my books on the web. If my work is any good, presumably people will be willing to pay for it. If it's not worth paying for, they shouldn't mind my refraining from publishing it for nothing. God knows there are enough samples out there to help them make up their minds.

Now let's see if anything interesting is going on in the Blogosphere.

1. Firehand at Elm Tree Forge had himself a Range day. Everyone needs a range day. And he's shooting an M39, which is something I currently lust for.

2. Via John Lott, the helpless, disarmed British are resorting to old technology to defend their homes.

3. Dan From Madison wants to know if other bloggers are detecting signs of spring. Well, here in Miami we know it's spring when Joe's Stone Crab takes crab off the menu. Also, the streets are full of dead mahogany leaves. And it's hot. One sign we don't have to put up with: huge mountain lions pawing at our trash cans.

4. Maggie's Farm links to recordings of screech owl calls. Have you ever heard one of these things in the middle of the night? It sounds like a drunk middle-aged woman screaming her lungs out. And sometimes, it is.

5. In one of the weirder posts I've seen lately, Michael Bane links to a lady who reams Moe Udall's boy out for being a gun-grabbing pansy, and he also issues a cautionary bulletin regarding wombat rape.

I guess it would be hard to follow that.

Anyway, my package from Midway arrived. Time to put my Rock, Jr. rest together. Is it okay to fill the bag with the same cob litter I use for case polishing?

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Looks like the bag came filled after all!