Get Paid To Write Novels & Stories

She pointed. “That–” I followed her finger. “Oh that's my journal.” “You write?” She eyed me. “I like to write. But lately, I've ran out of inspiring topics.” “Hmm, you did say you were a fan of my blog, right?” “Yes.” “So what do you say I pay you a thousand dollars weekly to write a piece for my blog? Of course it'll pass as mine. You'll just be like a–” “Ghostwriter?” I questioned feeling that cloud of disappointment again.

He blurted. My lips parted. Eyes flickered. “Address, Aevia.” He demanded. I took the paper and pen he passed to me and wrote the address to my company on it. “Thanks but, I’ll pay you. If you’ll be sending me lunch everyday, the least I can do is pay you.” I said. “Nope, that won’t be necessary. You’re already doing a lot for me and Vira. Consider this a way for me to pay you back.” He said.

“This isn’t some mistake?” She laughed softly. “No mistake. They want you. And before you ask—” “Payment?” I cut in. “My dear,” she said, amused, “your normal rate card.” I closed my eyes. Normal. Not discounted. Not cautious. Not pity-driven. Normal. “Wow,” I breathed. “Exactly,” Leah said. “Some people don’t mind bad publicity. Some people just like good writing.” Something warm spread through my chest. Slow. Careful. Like my body didn’t quite trust it yet.

I was about to stand up, but I just froze in my spot because of his reply. "I can actually give you money, you know." "Pardon?" I faced him again while still holding my chest. "I'll just have to buy you and your work, right?" I blinked repeatedly and stared at him seriously. "W-well, I'll have to write for you and you're going to pay, but I'm not included—" "No, I'll buy you and your works." Wait, noo!

he replied as he opened the top drawer of the desk and brought out a writing pad and pen wrote down something and slid it towards me. This is our price for the work we are about to do. I looked and it read fifty thousand dollars. I brought out my chequebook from my pocket and wrote down fifty thousand dollars and signed my name. I wrote my phone number on the writing pad, so they could reach me eventually. "It will be ready in one week", he said, standing up to shake my hands. I left the office feeling hopeful and that feeling lasted throughout the whole day. After one week, an unknown number called me during one of my meetings, wanting to decline the call. I remembered that I had given my n

“You’re getting paid too.” I blinked back slightly. “What?” ”For the show. Fifty thousand dollars per episode, just like Reeve.” I straightened. “I-That wasn’t part of the deal.” “It was.” Priya said simply. “Page twelve of the contract, section four. You young bloods just never read, do you?” Of course I didn’t. I just signed the damned thing, barely glancing at the fine print because all I cared about was getting my reputation back. ”Your first payment should hit this week.” She continued. “Along with Reeve’s. I’m assuming hers should come through today.”

But something made me pick up. "Ms. Ellis? This is Rebecca Tanaka from the magazine. Do you have a minute?" "Of course." "I'll get straight to it. Your feature outperformed everything we've published this year. Engagement, shares, reader response – across the board, it's our strongest piece in three cycles." She paused. The pause of someone delivering good news professionally. "We'd like to offer you a paid anonymous column. Regular deadlines. Real compensation. Your voice, your topics, full creative control."

The day after I lose my babies, my husband, Colin Fraser, tries to make it up to me with money, like he always does. "What's it going to be this time?" he asks. "Jewelry, company shares, or that plot of land in Easton?" I simply shake my head and slide the document from my nightstand toward him. As casually as he's signed countless checks before, Colin signs it without even looking. When he glances up and sees how calm I am, he lets out a soft laugh. "I thought you'd ask me to stay and keep you company," he says, shaking his head. "After all these years, you're still so materialistic. Money is all you care about." My hand freezes for a moment as I reach for the signed document. Just th

There is a reason behind it. Writing is part of me, I have earned so much from my writing and I was putting it into great use, every penny I get from my writing goes to my orphanage and animal shelter. Nobody knows I have an orphanage and animal shelter, that is the way I feel I can provide help to the nation. Last night I donated to a writer on the platform I work with, her mum had cancer and the money for treatment needs to be completed before they start treatment on her. A lot of people need help in this world.

Cayden nodded and said, “Yes, but it’s nearly impossible to do that. That’s because the people they hired are popular influencers. “All of them are money-grabbers, and they publish whatever articles you want as long as you give them enough money. You’ll need to give them even more money if you want them to stop.” “Who are these people?” asked Kayson. His face had sunk slightly.