How to Get Paid To Write Online

Every creative has a dream of one day being paid simply to keep making what they love. For some, this may mean in a workplace setting, for some this means freelancing, and for those chosen few that are deemed important enough, their audiences alone can provide enough funding to survive happily. Learn about a new way for writers to make money online WHILE building up their followings.

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Here is how to get paid to write and publish online:

When I started this blog almost 10 months ago, it was basically an “anti-travel-blog” travel blog. I hated the ideas pressed by travel blogs, and I hated the idea that somehow flying 14 hours away from home for a few months would change me.

10 months later this still isn’t a traditional travel blog in any sense, and flying to Australia didn’t change me. With that said, this isn’t a travel blog because it’s less about the travel itself, as it is about the stories. Being physically located in every place I’ve gotten the chance to see over these 10 months (a list way bigger than I ever anticipated) didn’t change me, but the people, the scenes, and the moments certainly did, and I’ve never had a more waking urge to become generic travel blog guy #408.

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I’ve found myself planning no further than a month or 2 in advance, freelance wise, in the realization that most of my plans are naturally going to fall around the mini-trips I can budget for until my next adventure. This time around though I’ll have a better idea of all that can truly be found out there with a little searching, and a bigger audience to share stories and grow with.

While traveling requires quite a few ducats, and blatant creativity isn’t always the most lucrative, last weeks Medium announcement was a blessing in disguise. Sent to me by a friend in a Twitter chat (shoutout to my MMC family), was an article that explained that Medium’s paywall has officially been opened up for anyone to sign up for and start publishing for pay. What this means essentially is that you can sign up in about 10 minutes, give your bank info, and publish “locked” articles that basically only paying members are able to see (note: this is NOT an ad in any way, shape, or form. In fact my Medium estimates for my first month are still reading “$0.00”). Based on time spent reading, and “claps”, an estimate is given and you can get paid out simply for having people read your content. It seemed kind of too good to be true, with online reviews stating an average of ~$90 for Medium paywall writers (I’m assuming this is a skewed mean average, not median), but the fact that you could essentially re-post articles that you own the rights to meant that I could basically try it out risk free.

I started by re-posting my “How to Work For Your Favourite Rapper” article just to see if it would be able to pick up any steam without much promo at all, and how much it would make me. It’s been about 10 days and the views are still reasonably low (with $0 in estimated revenue as mentioned), but I’ve noticed that every day the stats are improving, and I’ve even managed over ten followers. For the time being I want to see how it goes, so I’ve decided to post a few more of my think-pieces on Medium, namely the content that doesn’t exactly fit here or re-posts that I want to monetize (this blog is currently 100% revenue free; I just do it because I love it in all honesty)

This week, I wrote about why the creative community has the same destructive tendency as the generic society that we tend to avoid, in terms of limiting its members to an idea of singular success (choosing one thing to be good at, and one thing only). Check out a piece of the article below, and click on excerpt below to read more! (If you sign up for a completely free account you can read 3 of these “locked” articles per month – justtt enough to read all of mine, haha)

An excerpt from Us, creative”: An Argument Against Picking Mediums

Within our own society, us, creatives claim to hate bland binaries BUT are outwardly as anti-modularity as our generic counterparts. Our equivalents of “So, what do you do?” or “What degree did you graduate with?” are “So, what do you make?” and “What’s you medium?”; As pathetic as “well,I’m a creative” sounds to the rest of the world, “well, I don’t really have a medium I just make whatever” sounds just as lame to all of us, creatives. If you create, there is some sort of expectation that at some point you’ll be notable enough in your preferred medium that you’ve effectively ‘made it’. If you shoot photos but don’t have x number of Instagram followers, you’re not a photographer, you’re a hobbyist. If you publish writing, but you don’t have x amount of notable bylines, you’re not a writer, you’re just another asshole with a free blog. If you write poetry, but don’t get at least 2 minute finger-snap ovation (I made this one up, admittedly I haven’t been to a slam poetry event yet but I imagine it’s something like this), you’re not a poet, you’re just an angsty post-teen. Sounds familiar, right? (See: “Ah, so you’ve been working at the company for 10 years, but you aren’t a manger yet? Maybe you should focus on your career a little more”). Even in popular music, not until recently did we start to see vocalists begin to hone their production and instrumental skills en masse. Besides the obvious drawbacks, what this type of destructive ideology does is effectively box many of us in. Creatives who decide to branch out across many mediums, perhaps limiting the focus of any particular area, give off the perception of less success, focus, and purpose in their respective fields.

-a how-to, by hospey.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey!

How To Work For Your Favourite Rapper

Is it really possible to land your DREAM job, only a handful of months out of college? Apparently so. But I bet you’ve never had a first day like this before…

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Here is how to work for your favourite rapper:

The first day of work is never easy. You hope that your new peers will like you; you hope your new boss will be impressed. Well, today is your first day at your new job… except your job is a cross-country rap-tour, your peers are world-class musicians and your boss, who invited you on said tour, has won a triplet of Grammy awards. He’s 24, and he’s your favorite rapper.

As a 22-year-old yourself, freshly graduated, you harbor the powers of the internet and somehow secure the dream job from your thrifty confines in Sydney, Australia – a temporary shelter from the true responsibilities of the motherland – Canada. Life can happen as swiftly as a resume goes viral, and since your application happened to do so, about three weeks will pass before your first day on the job.

“Welcome to the tour! What do you do here?” You’re not really sure, yet. But you’re excited anyway. “I’m the intern!”

Fortunately, your meager sense of professionalism will protect you from coming across as too much of a fan during your first encounter with your new colleagues, and boss. A littered table, a MacBook Pro (acting as a rolling tray), and several extended hands are the first things you encounter. Don’t say much; being known as that quiet new kid is better than being known as the ‘OMG do you remember the first thing that kid said to us??!?’-guy. Your new boss and his friends will take in the Bulls game before show time, so just chill. You’ll spend most of your first day quietly strolling about, meandering as if a regular – notebook out, diligently note-taking as if this will give the impression of a sort of established journalist rather than the internet-kid-turned-shitty-blogger that you are/were/may well become.

The first few weeks will be blurry, abstract, and smoked out. Every experience eye opening; some burdening, most reddening. The hotel rooms are bigger than your future. Every time someone asks you “So… I know you’re the intern, but what do you actually do here?” you become less sure of yourself. What nobody will warn you about touring with 90 others is the loneliness. Individual loneliness, but collectively as well – impersonal, half-day rendezvous the crew will make at each venue or hotel will leave much to be desired. As a family though, the growth is rich. Around those deeply eased by each other’s presence, quickly, you will find comfort as well. You’re thankful for this family, even if you are never truly able to externalize these feelings besides rolling out of your bus-bunk each day and greeting everyone with whatever designated handshake you’ve become privy to.

As your tenure continues, the daily happenings (consisting of: movie-club, games 21, chain-smoking Backwoods, and digesting barely-palatable catering) feel like second nature. As routine as the schedule may feel, the lifestyle will be anything but. Unforeseen circumstances constantly arrive and must be dutifully accounted for. Appointments will have to be re-arranged to accommodate story time with Dave Chappelle. You will have to fit in dinner time drinks with Fonzworth Bentley. Physical activity is a must – try hoops with the Migos ft. Myles Turner, or perhaps a private volleyball game at Bonnaroo. Downtime will consist of a quiet New York eve; a casual 5-star meal, family style, followed by GQ’s NBA Playoff viewing party should suffice.

Of these experiences, you’ll want to tell your friends everything, yet you physically won’t be able to tell them about the moments of which words won’t muster meaning, nor the aspects that encapsulated the experience because you still can’t describe them. It’ll take a while.

By the last few weeks, you will be exhausted. You will be fucking exhausted. You will be energized by the amazing creatives and beautiful people in your constant presence. Like Tyler, you will be a walking paradox. While watching your boss –your boss– take the stage in his ‘worlds best dad’ tee, tweaking each sound-check to perfection, the concept of a ‘finish line’ will disappear from mind. Watching the gang roll five, ten, sometimes fifteen deep on whatever miniature motorized vehicle they can get their hands on, like a biker gang beckoning the kingdom, you will understand the importance of your closest circles. Reminders of displacement and trajectory are constant; Skype calls to friends and family remind you exactly how far away from home you are, yet how far you still have to go.

After adjustments, by tours end, you will come to a realization: there’s no right way to work for your favorite rapper. In fact, there may not even be a way to work for your favorite rapper. Compensation won’t come to mind, nor per diems – you would’ve done it for free. After all, a story’s worth a thousand resumes.

Prior to your journey, you will have been bred with cautionary reminders to be wary of your wishes. Post, your outlook will relax. There’s less to worry about than you think. Seamlessly, 32 shows will pass and your admiration will never waver. Hell, you might just come out of the other end with 1 or 2 timeless stories and a new group of people to call ‘family’.


My time as intern for Chance the Rapper is something that could never be justifiably summed up in words (trust me: I wrote thousands of words on tour, scrapped multiple ideas post-tour, and over a month later I’ve finally come up with something I can be proud of). It was a time of transition in my life that marked a shift from slightly hesitant sometimes-blogger putting off getting a real job, into a confident multi-faceted creative with a taste of how great it all could be – and the newfound realization of the person that I’m meant to be.

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In the past I’ve noted my feelings of sorrow for those in life who never truly realize what they are meant to be, but until the Be Encouraged Tour I never truly had an opportunity to interact with so many people who had seemingly reached the level of content in their contributions to the culture that I too hope to reach one day (and yes, I hate the phrase “the culture” just as much as you do). There were many times that I questioned myself and wondered why exactly I was where I was, but I really do feel that I was graced with this opportunity for a reason.

I can talk all I want about my run-ins with various celebrities including the ones I lived with for 2 months, or how a taste of the VIP lifestyle changed me, but the first moment that really left shivers down my spine was a slightly more natural one:

Night 2 at the Red Rocks Amphitheater in Denver, CO.

 The band intros happen nearly halfway thru the show, and after the ovation for ‘Mr. Nico Segal’, ”Sunday Candy” begins. Suddenly, it was if the heavens literally opened up for a second; right as the vocalists harmonized the lines “Come on in this house, cause it’s gonna rain, Rain down Zion, it’s gonna rain”, the most peaceful light mist fell from the sky until the end of the song and as suddenly as they started, ceased. Something about that moment made me realize that I, or rather we, were doing something right, enough so to please our God & Mother Nature & the sky themselves.

(Corny right? Oh well.)

Chance is exactly like the man you’d picture him to be, as a family man, business man, and friend, so instead of another biography, the last thing I’ll note is possibly my favourite quote from my entire trip with him. He once forgot to put on his signature ‘3’ cap before a show in the second half of tour, and as his assistant Colleen reminded him of it he turned and said with an insightful smirk, “you know what’s funny? If I didn’t put this hat on tonight, there would’ve been a Complex article by tomorrow rationalizing exactly why I didn’t wear this hat”.

What more can I say? What makes him such a great person is his understanding that while many of us care to sensationalize the few shreds that we get may get from him, he can better use his influence to spread the type of community-boosting positivity & joy that he is now so well known for.

All that is really left to say, once more, is thank you, Chance.

-A how-to, by hospey.

follow my adventures on the gram @hxspey, or on twitter @hospey