Is writing a doomed ambition?

Opinion by Rachel Weisz

I’ve had the pull to write for as long as I can remember. From writing in my journal as an angsty teen to having my first byline in Vogue Australia’s digital site (a dream come true), writing was always a source of solace — a place where I could unwind, unpack and discover new things about myself and what interested me. It’s the same with reading. There is no better feeling than losing yourself in a piece of text that you resonate with. Writing is often considered a lonely task, but reading holds an entirely opposite feeling. Reading can make you feel seen. 

My journey to become a ‘professional writer’ (whatever that means) has not been linear, nor has it been easy. Living in Australia felt like living on another planet. With the geographical isolation from the rest of the world, living on this island made me feel like I couldn’t have a place in the wider cultural conversation. I felt too small, and too uncertain of myself — and so I pushed the thought of being a writer to the back of my mind. Instead, I observed.

I consumed every piece of media that interested me, soaking it up like a sponge. I became obsessed with learning about fashion and culture, and how these two were mutually exclusive in understanding the world. I loved magazines, particularly in the digital landscape that had a similar mindset to mine. I realised that I wasn’t so different to the women that were writing these pieces, and in the age of social media and working from home (thanks covid), I knew that the excuses I once upheld were not going to cut it. I wanted to write.

Unfortunately for me, my pursuit for financial freedom through my craft could not have possibly come at a worse time. It has never been harder to be a writer in this day and age. From redundancies, publication closures and the threat of AI, young writers have a lot of challengers at hand.

Recently, the Australian media landscape had a massive shift which led to many redundancies across a range of companies. In the latest news, almost half of Pedestrian Group’s staff were let go as 5 entire publications were shut down. Vice, Gizmodo, Refinery29, Kotaku, and Lifehacker ceased publishing in Australia after a restructuring of the Nine-owned organisation.

To a young Australian female, the fall of Refinery29 hurt the hardest. Refinery29 was a platform that aimed to give a voice to underrepresented people and to share diverse stories. It was unlike anything on the market, and that gap is deeply felt. It was also run by a small but striking group of female writers and creatives, who are now — alongside the rest of the pedestrian redundancies — without work. Among those also left with a hole in their paychecks are the freelancers who contributed to these sites. The opportunity to work in media is already small, with editorial budgets becoming smaller and smaller, as well as internal teams shrinking past their limits. Now there are skilled workers with years of experience under their belt without their job. How can we compete?

It’s also important to examine that becoming a writer can often be aligned with an immense amount of privilege. When I decided that I wanted to write for a living, I turned to internships to gain editorial experience. Internships in most industries are unpaid — and many do not have the ability to make this kind of time sacrifice, especially in the current economic climate. I was able to work part-time while interning 1 day a week at a magazine. It wasn’t so bad, but this was also at the tail end of 2022 where the cost of living hadn’t hit its downward spiral yet and part-time work could still pay my rent. I felt more of a sting at my second internship. Deciding to completely change career direction and to focus on this internship that meant the world to me, I left my stable job to work casually in retail. I was working two retail jobs alongside my 2-day week internship. I also had to move back home, which is also a privilege that not many people have.

The big question is, where is the space for those who do not have the financial ability to take time off and work for free? Is it even possible in a cost of living crisis? With internal teams shrinking smaller and smaller, and the desperation for work looming higher, where can young writers gain the experience they need in order to work in an industry that frankly, doesn’t have any room left?

And let’s not get started on the looming reality of AI. Although I don’t believe that AI is a fatal threat to the journalistic institution, I do think that its impact will be overall negative to the creative process and the ability for young writers to get any work. The ‘help’ of AI tools will allow journalists to work smarter and faster and allow them to churn out more and more work. And if journalists are turning out more and more content, it can be assumed that many people may lose their jobs if it is believed their work can be done by less people at a faster rate. It may also hinder the creative process of journalism. 

It’s been almost two years since I decided I wanted to pursue writing professionally, and even now I still feel like I’m at a dead end. For a while I thought that freelancing was the only option. I pitch to editors time and time again who don’t open my emails. When they do, I am told that there is ‘no editorial budget’ and that they won’t be able to pay me. I send off my work for free, hoping that a byline and some exposure will help. And while I receive an immense amount of joy once a piece of mine is published, it does not take away from the sombre reality that if I never get paid for my work, then this craft I love so much officially has an expiration date. It’s hard to feel creatively fulfilled when you have to pick up an extra shift at work because rent is due, and so you stop writing for weeks to months on end because you are so tired from working a job that doesn’t drive you. 

With the changing of the media landscape, where do new writers go to make a living through their craft? No one is hiring and no one has the budget for freelance work. And just as importantly, with publications like Refinery29 (in Australia) being shut down, where is there space for underrepresented voices to be able to share their stories?

It is so important to give young people a voice and a chance. Whether you have the pen or the book, writing provides hope and confidence in future generations that they are not alone, and that they are heard. To take this away will tell the next generation that their voice in society has no value. If words really last forever, then you need to give us a chance to speak.