WRITING ON MEDIUM/SHERRY MCGUINN

The Winter of Our Malcontent

Just how pissed-off are we?

A roller coaster ride. That’s what the last few months on Medium have been like. But, I’ve never liked roller coasters. Never trusted them not to blow a gasket and send me, and countless others, hurtling to our deaths.

Much like what Medium has become. Oh, certainly not as life-ending as an American Thunder gone off the rails, but damaging, nonetheless. Damaging to our self-esteem, our psyches, and our bottom line, which has never gone over $200, for me.

Yes. Pathetically, you read that right. In nearly three and a half years, I don’t believe I’ve ever made more than $200 in one month, here. In fact, even that number is a rarity. I’d have to go back and check, but I’m fairly certain that I’m correct. Most months, it’s much less. Except for the two months I received the “bonus.” Yes, I thought I would wet myself in gratitude until it came to me that I deserved every fucking dime. And then some.

All these hours upon hours of work. Of thinking, “Can I write this? SHOULD I write this, and will people read it?” One story after another. Like a good soldier, I keep them coming, my OCD fueling the charge. Along with my insane commitment to not being a quitter.

Are you, like me, a Medium Malcontent who is reluctant to throw in the towel?

Aside from everyday stories, I can’t bear to think about the time spent writing four entries for the MWC, which was swept by a writer who has been MIA, since. Talk about a slap in the face. Although there were plenty of disgruntled writers like myself speaking their minds, I’m a bit disappointed that there wasn’t a more passionate response to the bullshit.

But, that said, I know what people think as I’m feeling just as helpless as they are. After all, what can we do? The puppeteers here don’t give a shit about us, especially if we’re not amongst the anointed, a strange mix of people who can actually write and turd-mongers who somehow, have gotten extremely lucky because there is indeed a sucker born every minute.

We “average Joes and Janes” who are banging away at our keyboards, obsessing over images and story titles and SEO settings, and wondering if THIS will be the piece that sends us rocketing into viral territory are screaming into the abyss.

Because it never happens. Not for us. Certainly, not for me. It doesn’t matter if I’m funny AF, raw and wounded, heartfelt and relatable, or if I’ve revealed elements of my life, the honesty of which shock even me — I’m a bust.

So yeah, in writing this, I’ve jumped on the Medium Malcontent bandwagon, a moniker I’ve personally coined and am very proud of, by the way. (Hey, gang, let’s make it go viral!)

And the reason I’m sharing my thoughts is that I’m gobsmacked by all the other writers, even those who were formerly among the biggest earners, who are now teetering on the precipice. Arms flailing to keep their balance and wondering, “Is this worth it?”

Yes. Top writers, too, are pissed — are Medium Malcontents. I’d be a liar if I said that I sympathize with them, as it’s difficult to feel sorry for people who were pulling down thousands of bucks a month on this platform. But, as I don’t want to appear an asshole, I’ll just admit that I feel their pain.

So. Should we assume we’re failures? That what we share here doesn’t matter a damn to anyone? “Anyone who’s anyone,” I should say. Meaning the editorial powers that be.

Or, has Medium failed us? With their constantly shifting algorithms and failure to promote those of us who have proved our loyalty above and beyond the call? And their unconscionable refusal to compensate us for external views, meaning we’re unpaid marketers for the highly paid. Certainly, they can afford to throw a few shekels our way for sucking in new dupes, but why bother when we so willingly acquiesce?

I wish I had an answer to that as I’m as guilty as anyone. I supplicate like a mofo. Sharing my stories on LinkedIn and Twitter and Facebook and anywhere else that might elicit a few more reads from people who actually enjoy my work. And, what does it get me? A fucking skull-crusher of a headache, some days.

I mentioned that even the top writers are grumbling. But I have to wonder if the “content kings” like the Toms and Tims are still making bank. Somehow, I doubt that they’re floundering. Of course, they “side-hustle” like nobody’s business. Selling this course and that workshop, all engineered to help schlubs like you and me “make it” on Medium. Hey, good for them.

But, I don’t buy crap like that. Just as I refuse to pay the guy at Stage 32, a screenwriter’s forum, $299 for the favor of pitching my screenplay, my blood, sweat, and tears, to some nobody at Paramount. And trust me, four out of five pitches are to the lowest rungs on the production ladder.

What floundering screenwriter has three hundred bucks to pitch his or her work, for chrissake? If they can afford that, they can probably produce their own damn film!

People believe we writers are easy dupes. And some of us are. Perhaps we need a protector. Some tough-as-nails-badass much like Samuel L. Jackson in Pulp Fiction who says:

“And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.”

I didn’t want to bring the Lord into this but that quote is from Ezekiel 25:17 and I’m all about transparency as anything less might drop my earnings into the single-digit range, resulting in my sprinting toward the horizon, seeking greener pastures.

Speaking of which, I’ve yet to encounter a “greener pasture.” NewsBreak Sucks. Simily sucks. (That didn’t take long.) Vocal kind of sucks. I think I have about eleven bucks in my “wallet” there. And, there’s Substack, where I publish a newsletter that I have no idea how to monetize, which doesn’t matter as people want shit for free.

Just like Medium wants free advertising from us Malcontents, who give it to them by pumping up external views, many people want what they want, without having to pay for it.

Well, we’re paying for that all right. With dwindling earnings and plummeting confidence. But, hell, there’s a limit on how low we should allow ourselves to go. Emotionally, anyway. As difficult as this is.

I can’t help with your earnings, folks, but, unless you suck as a writer, don’t let your lack of success here affect how you feel about yourself, or the craft. Hold onto your confidence and know that you’re not failing, Medium is failing us.

Now, what can we do about it, that doesn’t involve walking away? I may be a Medium Malcontent, but I’m not ready to bounce. Unless I have a place to bounce to.

You?

By the way, regarding my title, it may not be winter where you are, but, I couldn’t resist.

© Sherry McGuinn, 2022. All Rights Reserved.

If you can handle it, read every one of my stories and those of other fab Medium writers. I’ll get a couple of shekels and you’ll have full access to this whole joint! https://sherrymcguinn.medium.com/membership

Sherry McGuinn is a slightly-twisted, longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. She is currently pitching her newest screenplay, “The Month We Fell Apart,” a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story, as well as “DEAD TIRED,” a female-driven, ass-kicking thriller.

Thanks for reading, guys. If you enjoyed this, I’d love for you to check out the following, as well as my newsletter, Sherry Raw.