Why I Offer Paid Subscriptions

On compensation for creative work

An announcement before we dig into the essay —

My book, THE START OF IT ALL, comes out next Friday, May 3rd!!! It has been SO surreal to share advanced copies with friends, and I can’t wait to share it with more of you.

This book is full of questions exploring self-growth, community, career, dreams, and more. Each question is paired with a story straight from my 20s.

Some of the stories include…

• How I decided where to go to college

• Why I hated my first job

• How I dealt with painful breakups (romantic relationships AND friendships)

• The time I had to fight for pay inequity as a temp receptionist

• Letting go of big dreams (and finding new ones)

• Figuring out which friend to call when my bathroom ceiling was damaged and I couldn’t use my shower

I hope that The Start of It All can serve as a companion as you navigate these twisty, wild years. 

I hope this guide helps you hold onto yourself, as you grow, learn, and change. 

This is a hard topic for me - because I’ve always wanted to straddle the line of accessibility and exclusivity very thoughtfully and delicately.

I’ve been wanting to publish this essay for quite a while, and with the upcoming launch of my book - I thought it was about time to talk about paid subscriptions.

Someone recently asked why I chose the price that I did for my book ($22.22). While I’m all for curiosity, the question felt accusatory instead of inquisitive. When I simply and respectfully responded, “Because that’s the price I’m comfortable with”, they shook their head and started talking about how their book was priced. While I’ll never know what this person was thinking, the implication that I was charging too much for my book felt clear.

I could’ve talked about the printing and shipping costs and the hours I spent determining a profit that felt reasonable. I could’ve talked about all of the research I did. I could’ve explained all of the factors that went into my decision.

But the truth is, I didn’t owe that person an explanation. I worked really hard on this book, and I deserve to be paid for it.

And that’s what I’m talking about today - being paid for my work.

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The most simple explanation I can offer for why I offer paid subscriptions here is this —  I want to be compensated for my work, and moreover - my creativity.

As a coach, I don’t have an hourly rate because you’re not just paying for that hour. You’re paying for my insight, energy, and years of experience.

If writers had “hourly rates”, I’d argue that we should be paid for the time we spend writing AND the time we spend thinking about writing. I’m often able to write an essay pretty quickly because I’ve been marinating on a topic for weeks - or even months.

Creativity can be defined as interpreting something through one’s own unique lens, then expressing that interpretation artistically. I’m able to arrange a collection of details through an original theme because that’s how my mind works.

And at the same time, it’s still work.

I want to share my creativity with like-minded people. It’s a natural and essential part of me.

And, it’s a form of labor. Writing is hard, strenuous, and all-consuming. I’ve chosen it, as much as it’s chosen me. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Back to compensation.

I recently went to an incredible panel organized by Ife Olujobi and was shocked and mortified to hear about the state of playwright compensation. This conversation stirred something in me, and I’ve continued to follow Ife’s work ever since. I look forward to seeing her upcoming play, Jordans, at The Public (and I’m already planning out a witty joke to say to the box office staff, and subsequently post on social media about Alexa Jordan seeing Jordans.) The viral line from Euphoria comes to mind, “Is this fucking play about us?”

Check out an article that Ife Olujobi wrote about her journey to securing an increase in playwright production rates at The Public Theater for the first time in twelve years. Ife also wrote this deeply important disclaimer -

 “The folks at The Dramatist asked me to write a piece about some of the advocacy I’ve been doing around playwright compensation, specifically how I was able to secure an increase in playwright production rates at The Public Theater for the first time in twelve years. In the spirit of pay transparency, I think it’s important to note that I was not paid to write this piece, nor is anyone who contributes writing to The Dramatist, which I don’t agree with. I’m writing the piece anyway because I think this issue is important, but I do think it’s more than a little ironic to be writing an article about fair pay for writers for a publication that doesn’t pay its writers."

I would also be remiss to not acknowledge Equal Pay Day, and Black Women’s Equal Pay Day, which are both very much on my mind as I reflect on the topic of compensation. Years ago, I found out that a company was paying my white male counterpart significantly more than me for the exact same job while temping in a midtown office. I watched the videos below at my desk with AirPods in, while I typed out a corporate yet impassioned email to the manager of the temp agency - outlining the disparity and requesting equal pay. (stay tuned for more on that story in The Start of It All!)

I mention all of this to highlight that a privileged group of people are paid what they deserve. An even more privileged group are able to earn a substantial portion of their income through their writing. And an even more privileged group are able to live off what they make from their writing alone - along with proceeds from other opportunities that have arisen thanks to their writing (ex: tv show adaptions, media appearances etc. etc. etc.)

There is also a certain privilege in being able to write while maintaining other streams of income. Even having the time to devote to writing is a kind of privilege.

No matter what kind of privilege we do or don’t have — writers deserve to be compensated for their work.

I deserve to be compensated for my work.

This was not an easy essay to write, or an easy ask to make. I’ve been wrestling with the question of how to talk about paid subscriptions for a long time. I’ve read many writers’ perspectives on why they set up paid subscriptions.  I set lofty goals when I first joined Substack (almost a year ago!) and then pivoted to focusing more of my energy into my growing coaching business.

I’ve realized that at the end of the day, it’s more than just deserving to be compensated for my work.

I want to be compensated for my work.

I want to be paid to write. And I want to own that desire and ambition.

So, I would love it if you would consider a paid subscription (8/month, $80/year.) Details below.

Here are some benefits you’ll receive as a paid subscriber —

• Access to past essays now exclusive to paid subscribers

• Additional essays throughout the year

• Early access to chapters from my upcoming book, The Start Of It All (First one coming later this week!)

• More bonus content as I continue to develop the blog and other projects (definitely want to share some of the novel I’m working on!)

Benefits for yearly subscribers only

• Downloable workbook, Authentic by Alexa

• Two thirty-minute coaching sessions

With all of this being said, I will never put all of my essays behind a paywall. Accessibility matters to me. Paid subscriptions will actually help me keep Wild Cozy Free largely free.

I view paid subscriptions as a show of gratitude for my work and talent, from those who can provide that kind of support.

I don’t view paid subscribers as an elite members-only club (though I will definitely be providing this group with some extra perks as a thank-you for their generosity.) Free subscribers will always get a preview/excerpt of paid subscriber work essays.

I also plan to experiment with more vulnerable writing, in paid essays. I don’t know how to fully explain that choice - but I will say that it feels right to give people the choice to opt into this kind of writing, rather than sending it straight to your inbox weekly. In this way, paid subscriptions also provide you with some agency and choice over what kind of content you want to receive from me.

In this way, I think paid subscriptions will also allow me to create a safe place for my vulnerability to land. Since you’ll have to opt in to read these essays, that paid subscription will signal to me that you’re deeply on board with what I have to say, and vibe with my authenticity. (And yes, you could pay to say mean things, and make fun of my vulnerability and authenticity. But hey, at least I’ll have money for therapy.)

So, in summary — here are the ways you can support me as a writer and entrepreneur.

On Substack

• A monthly or yearly subscription

Outside of Substack

• A virtual “coffee” for any amount you’d like

• Order my new book

• Download Authentic by Alexa

• Check out my coaching business

Some non-monetary ways you can support my work are:

• Sharing my work with friends and specific communities you’re part of

• Recommending Wild Cozy Free, if you have your own Substack

• Leaving a comment to tell me what resonates with you

Thank you so much for supporting my work. Whether you’re a free or paid subscriber, I deeply appreciate your presence in this community.

I ironically started this essay by talking about not owing someone an explanation. It now occurs to me that this essay might read like one long explanation, to some. While that isn’t my intention, I’m still okay with that interpretation of things. I choose to offer you an explanation by way of unpacking my thoughts each week.

I’ll be back Friday with the very first preview chapter from my book for paid subscribers (and a short excerpt for free subscribers too!)