I had a similar experience with Clamor, a magazine that shut down more than a year after I had an article published in it. I’d never been paid, despite consistent pestering. For most of that time I was given brush offs, indicating that they were still in the process of paying writers from the issue before my article appeared, and of course, didn’t I agree they should be paid first? And wasn’t it great that this indie progressive mag was offering to pay writers at all, unlike many of its counterparts?

In the meantime, I was receiving a lot of notices inviting me to subscribe or donate.

I was finally given a hint of honesty when the editor told me the magazine was in a precarious financial place. I offered empathy, and held back a bit on demanding payment (it was a small amount after all; I’d written more in support of the organization than for cash).

When I heard word that it was shutting down, I knew I wasn’t ever going to see the money. But here’s the maddening part: the editor never once contacted me and other unpaid writers that they weren’t ever going to pay us, despite our contract. Surely this is because such an admission of a breach of contract invites legal culpability.

And worse: even while I was nagging and pestering and begging for the pittance offered for the article, the magazine never once ceased to promise writers payment in its call-outs for submissions and its writer’s guidelines. Even when they knew they couldn’t pay past writers, they lured in future writers with a promise of payment they must’ve known they couldn’t keep. That seems particularly irresponsible.

If I had the time, if it had been more money owed to me, I would’ve pursued this. As it was, I let it go. But I haven’t forgotten. The editor’s moved on to other media organizations. I won’t ever write for her again. And I’m going to expect better from every other magazine I write for.

It really is appalling, the life of the freelancer, isn’t it?