Freemium KimBoo
Pay me what I'm worth...or not. An argument for an invoice-free world...
Hey y’all, it’s KimBoo! I’m an author and a podcaster who is also a librarian, text technology historian, and former I.T. project manager. I write about a lot of interesting things, I hope you agree! Please consider supporting me (and my dog!) so I can keep throwing errata & etcetera into the Scriptorium!
I have a friend who’s taken to calling me “Freemium KimBoo” because he’s frustrated that I refuse to invoice him.
On the other hand, he is just one voice among many of my friends who have told me repeatedly that I undervalue myself and my services.
The irony of being told that I’m worth more than I charge while at the same time being told to nail down exactly how much I’m worth is not lost on me. It seems like the obvious answer would be to double/triple/quadruple what I charge for my hourly rate and leave it at that. Certainly, plenty of business coaches and other consultants have done that successfully and reaped hundreds of thousands of dollars.
However, I feel like I need to point out that this isn’t about ignorance or false modesty. The fact is that I know I’m worth more than “free” but I also know that I undersell myself on the regular. Yes, I know, I know!
The fact of the matter is that invoicing people to demand that they pay me for an amount of money that I’m uncomfortable asking for is just a hell of a lot more work and anxiety than I want to invest. It is arguable this makes me a terrible entrepreneur, and I’m not going to debate that at all: I am a terrible entrepreneur.
In fact, I’m not much of a businesswoman, on the whole. I do the business end of things, because I have to, since not doing it would mean I’d be required to go work for somebody else. If there’s anything worse for my anxiety than having to invoice someone, then becoming a wage slave again would be it. I have learned that lesson over and over and over and driven myself to complete psychological breakdown trying to outrun that reality.
Also, there’s always the chance that you charge somebody for what you think you’re worth and they don’t think you’re worth that much. It becomes a big drama which, in my experience, almost always ends up costing me money in the end, along with whatever goodwill was once there.
But that’s an easy fix: Pay me what you think I’m worth. Honestly, if you don’t think I’m charging enough, just pay me more. It’s super simple.
It’s why I have multiple subscription platforms and payment options. If you like my fiction, you can support me at my Bibliotheca. If you’re not interested in my fiction but you like my observations about the history of the text technology, internet culture and technology, or my writings about grief and being an adult orphan, then support me here at the Scriptorium!
If you don’t want to commit to one of those platforms, or you don’t want to commit to a monthly subscription at all (valid of you!), I’ve also got a ko-fi. There, you can still subscribe with a monthly payment, or just give me a one off for whatever reason you feel like! You’d rather use venmo? DM me!
It’s not as if I’m not giving you options, hey?
In fact, subscribing to one of my platforms with a monthly payment will, in the long run, likely be a lot more profitable for me than a single $20 or $50 or even $100 donation (although donations are welcome!). It’s not just about the total amount paid over time, having more subscribers to my blogs increases my chances of coming up in algorithms and searches, which is helpful for exposure and finding new subscribers.
I call this “post scarcity capitalism.” Most of my friends know I’m not a fan of capitalism. I think it’s a scourge of humanity and destroying the planet, but it’s all we’ve got to work with right now. So, I do what I can by trying to base my business model as a writer around the idea of mutual support…which, okay, does actually translate to “Freemium KimBoo.” *rolls eyes*
Capitalism is such an insidious concept to begin with, because it reduces human behavior and human effort and human interaction into a dollar amount. That is the very foundation of capitalism and in my opinion is a major reason why our society is so broken. Once people become things, become actions, become services, then they cease to be considered as human.
I just don’t like it.
I know I am a valuable human being, but putting a dollar amount on that value actually devalues me. It makes me feel cheap…worst than cheap, it makes me feel like I only exist as a commodity with a price tag.
I’m not going to invoice you for reading this essay, by the way.
Instead, you can just pay me what I’m worth. 💕💲
It is kind of hard to know what you are worth.
As a fiction writer, am I worth a one time ($12) subscription for each section you want to read, like a book, or am I worth $20 a month, or 80 a year?
I'm not real happy with the choices I get for substack, as I'd like to set my own choices.
Then there's the question of whether or not people would pay.