Welcome to my January 2024 newsletter. Is it too late to say Happy New Year? (Actually, there’s part of me that feels with January practically done and dusted, I can’t believe we’re already a twelfth of the way through 2024! Where’s the time going? Thank heavens we have an extra day next month.)
At the beginning of January, many people are busy making New Year’s resolutions. By the time they reach this point in the month, many will have given up. That’s human nature. Most New Year’s resolutions are all about making an internal change. I want to give up social media, or I want to give up meat, or I want to go to the gym three times a week. We are the ones driving that change, so if we don’t do it, nobody is going to do it for us.
But I suffered an external change at the beginning of January—something over which I had no control. One of my regular clients, BBC Countryfile magazine, got in touch to say they were dropping their monthly walks section, and so my services for this section of the magazine were no longer required.
Looking back, my first published piece with them was in 2011. They’ve been a wonderful client to work for, and I even have my own page on their website: https://www.countryfile.com/author/simon-whaley.
Magazines are trying to adapt to an electronic society, and the ditching of this section in the magazine is one example of that. Perhaps ironically, this section only existed in the magazine because the articles also appeared on their website and they generated some useful traffic to their pages. But the powers that be (somewhere in the organisation) decided it wasn’t enough, so the editor is trying something else.
Obviously, I’m disappointed, because I enjoyed writing for this respected publication. But, in the business of writing, it’s a great example of how we should take nothing for granted. Nothing lasts forever.
Years ago, I wrote many short stories for the women’s magazine market. When I began, most women’s magazines had one (if not more) fiction slots. But over the years, this has dwindled, and now there are fewer than half a dozen markets, and some of those are only open to a select band of writers on their preferred list (of which I’m not).
All this means I don’t write short stories for the women’s magazine anymore. This was another external change that happened, over which I had no control. (It’s probably all down to costs. Reading and assessing fiction is a labour-intensive process.)
Coping with such external change can be a difficult adjustment. One thing I enjoy most about being a freelance writer, though, is that I have more than one employer, so when things like this happen, it’s not the complete end of the world.
In the same way that I coped with the, albeit much slower, change of the dwindling short story market, I shall cope with this change. Already, I’ve received an email from a major publisher enquiring about my availability for later in the year. Now, at this stage, no work has been offered, but there’s hope.
I’ve always been a believer that as one door closes, another one opens, and the writing business is ripe for this. As writers, it’s important to come up with new ideas and offer them where we can. At times, this can feel like a scattering of seeds. Some germinate where they fall, others don’t. And some, it seems, suddenly germinate when you least expect it.
Three and a half years ago, I published a piece on Medium, called The Beck Bookended by Bridges. (As newsletter subscribers, you can read a copy here with this free link: https://medium.com/the-slow-journeyman/the-beck-bookended-by-bridges-6ce3555d18fc?sk=c71728b1e30fe4b22229ddf1cdade766) It was an article I’d originally written for a local county magazine, about Cunsey Beck in Cumbria, a short-lived stream of two miles that just happens to have a bridge across its source and another across its mouth.
Recently, I was contacted by the picture editor at The Guardian, one of the UK’s broadsheet newspapers. They needed photos of Cunsey Beck for a news story and my photos in this article were just what she was looking for. They offered me NUJ (National Union of Journalists) rates for the images. The photo editor said she’d also like to keep my details on record. Of course, I said “Yes.” (If you want to read the article - and see my photos - you can do so here: https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2024/jan/23/invertebrates-decline-stream-cunsey-beck-lake-windermere.)
Who’d have thought that an online article would result in me selling those photos to a national newspaper three and a half years later? And who knows where that may lead, now that I’m in that picture editor’s address book. That door took a long while to open, but it did so at an opportune time.
External change can be worrying. But as long as you’ve been knocking on doors and leaving calling cards, some will open up for you. It might not happen when you’d like it to, or when you expect it to, but it will only open if you’ve knocked on it in the first place.
Google Play Books Tax Residency Certificates
One door I have been knocking on recently (with immense frustration) is Google Play Book’s door. Last November, they messaged to say that following some legal changes with the Republic of Ireland, to ensure that a withholding tax wasn’t applied to earnings from Eire, I had to submit a Tax Residency Certificate proving I lived in the UK (and wasn’t liable for tax in the Republic).
Amazingly, the UK’s tax office (HMRC) had a helpful form I could fill out online for this very purpose, and about a week later, a tax residency certificate turned up in the post. (I must admit, I was expecting a PDF to be emailed to me.)
Anyway, I scanned the document and uploaded it to Google, who acknowledged receipt, and said they’d check it out in due course. A few days later, they emailed to confirm this met their requirements and everything was sorted.
Two weeks later, they emailed to say the document was no longer valid. I queried this and was told to re-upload the document, which I did. Everything went well. The document was accepted and later verified, and everything was hunky-dory again. For two weeks. And then it was no longer valid.
Four more times I knocked on the door of Google Play Books’ Help and asked what was going on. I did everything they asked (uploading it again) and took screenshots of all the messages they were sending, confirming everything was okay. This week, I finally had an email from them confirming there is a glitch in their system which they’re trying to sort out.
So if you find yourself uploading a Tax Residency Certificate to Google Play Books, and it isn’t ‘sticking’, then don’t get too frustrated. It’s them, not you!
South Warwickshire Literary Festival
On September 21st, 2024, I shall be running a travel-writing workshop at the South Warwickshire Literary Festival (in Leamington Spa). Spaces are limited to ten (tickets are £18, but give access to other festival events too). In the afternoon, I shall also be appearing on an Author Q&A panel alongside Sophie Hannah, Alison May, Billy Ivory, and James Catchpole. For more details, visit:
https://www.southwarwickshireliteraryfestival.com/
Until next month, keeeeeeeeeep writing!
Best wishes,
Simon
You are amazing. Your boundless energy and ubiquity makes me want to lie down in a darkened room ...