Interview #160: How Diana Arterian Makes Money Writing
In this interview, Diana argues that because poetry pays so little money, poets are actually the freest writers of all.
Diana Arterian is a poet, critic, and recently served as the Lurie Visiting Professor at San José State University. She is the author of Agrippina the Younger, which won the William Carlos Williams Prize from the Poetry Society of America. She is also the co-translator and editor of Smoke Drifts (alongside Marina Omar). Despite her titles, Diana is open about the instability of her literary career, sharing a financial history that ranges from having solid health insurance to depositing loose change to pay rent.
In this interview, Diana discusses using money from a loss in her life to fund a year of writing, her current part-time job at a violin shop, and why she recently applied for a role at Nintendo. She also explains how the changes in the academic job market have forced her to look for work outside of universities. If you want to see the financial reality of a poet cobbling an income together, this one’s for you.
What you do: Visiting Professor (only this spring); manuscript editor, poet, critic, translator, writer.
Years writing professionally: Maybe 16 years? (When my first poem was published in a journal.)
Earnings range: ~$6k per year.
💰 Writing is solitary work, but talking about the finances doesn’t have to be. Our archive is a massive library of honest conversations, breaking down book advances, day jobs, and exactly how writers pay their bills. It takes a lot of trial and error to build a sustainable writing life. You don’t have to navigate it alone. Upgrade your subscription to unlock the library and read how they make it work.
Diana, your professional life is a blend of poetry, translation, editing, and university teaching. How does your financial life actually break down across those different pillars?
Honestly, very unevenly. Financially, my adult life has run the gamut of terror to the point I am depositing change to make rent and living on potatoes to enjoying luxurious health insurance and not feeling I might throw up when my car needs repairs to being able to take international trips for fun.
After my PhD, I was living on food stamps and free health insurance through the state of California—those resources were crucial for me to have any sense of independence. I have far more safety nets than many, with multiple siblings I know would put me up if my life fell apart and a partner who has shouldered the entirety of our rent when I had no income at all for many months after earning my doctorate.
Most of the pursuits you’ve laid out here pay little-to-nothing, which is not necessarily a mark against them. In general, academic teaching has paid the bills. I quit that full-time job in 2024. The reason I am in a place of financial security today is because of a terrible loss, the reality of which I am continually trying to reckon. A few years ago, my mother died and I got some money. (I wish she were here—and the money anywhere else.)
With this fraught gift, I felt I should create a year-long “self-made sabbatical” and complete projects, hopeful I would find another full-time post. Unfortunately, that did not pan out. Using the money from my mother to make ends meet—cheap apartment, low overhead—is not something I can do forever, but I do have the remarkable privilege of spinning a little until I figure it out without worrying about losing the roof over my head.
This reveal regarding my financial security feels crucial to the project of your series, and is a summons I think so many shirk from. As I have spoken more and more to people who, on paper or by public presence, seem established and comfortable, the more I realize it’s catch as catch can—a flurry of windfalls and desolate financial fear, both. A lot of people get familial financial support and feel deep shame about that. I don’t know many writers who are “comfortable.” Sitting in those realities and what that means for you as a creative person is important.