Examiner.com pulled this off the site after two days. I can see it, but no one else can. I also can no longer edit it. Still, it looks like it received 28 "Likes" before it left the world.
This will be the last Los Angeles Cocktails Examiner article written by me, Aaron Vanek. Replacement booze bloggers are being vetted tonight. Had I stuck it out until March 9, I would have controlled this column for four years.
I applied to Examiner.com based on a Monster.com ad that I thought was a scam. Writers are cheap and easy to come by, leading to frequent exploitation by unscrupulous sorts who charge authors to publish their words. Like extras casting agencies in Los Angeles who require aspiring thespians to pay a monthly service fee to keep their name on a list as well as use the company’s chosen photographer for headshots, Examiner.com sounded like a similar scam: write from home on any topic you choose, when you wish. I followed the application process to the end, all the while expecting a notice asking me for money for the “privilege” of publishing on their website. That never happened. Examiner.com exploits writers (what else is new?), but they aren’t a scam. I only had to pay for my business cards, an interesting tale where the company demanded I stop using them because I didn’t use the official logo. I was almost sued by my “employer” for copyright infringement.
Note the quotes around the word employer, because nearly all of the 55,000+ Examiners earn a pittance per published piece. There’s no health insurance, no retirement package, no sick leave, nothing. At least for the writers. On the other hand, there are no editors or bosses telling you what to do, either. A good thing for me, because I could indulge my inner Hunter Thompson and write whatever I want, sober or drunk (draft in the latter state, revise in the former). An added bonus, if I’m not mistaken: authors can republish their articles elsewhere, but Examiner always has rights to content uploaded to their site. The most frequent contact I had with the Denver headquarters were weekly emails encouraging Examiners to write more, editorial suggestions of trending topics, or surveys asking how to make the experience better for Examiners without paying more money-I always suggested paying us more money.
When I started in 2009, there was a Google forum where the writers could bemoan our sorry state together. Communication and solidarity was high in the early days, and I even managed to attend an Examiner.com meeting at some restaurant/bar, where I tried to eat my way up to the equivalent of minimum wage for the many hours spent researching, writing, and promoting my own cocktail articles. I failed, because over the last four years, I’ve written 335 articles (this is 336), and earned a total of $1,591.17. That averages to $4.75 per article. I’d say each report took an average of four hours to craft, coming to a whoppin $1.19 an hour. We are paid per hit and per slideshow view, roughly a penny each, though the exact algorithm has never been made known to the Examiners. I used to use Google analytics to track what articles were getting hits, but with the revamped system we can no longer do this. Examiner only reveals our total hits and estimated pay per day, week, month, and year. My lowest year for hits, 2012, brought me 27,587 unique visitors and $184.72. I didn’t keep track of annual visits for the previous years, but they were all higher than 2012. I’m fairly confident total hits for the life of the column resides in the low six figures.
To encourage more writing without more pay, Examiner.com began
gamification ystem some months back, with points, badges, and a leaderboard. The point system meant our articles were graded on a scale of 0 to 8, based on writing style, adherence to the title and locality, relevance, etc. High scoring articles would increase that Examiner’s ability to get press credentials and promotion from Examiner HQ (like the ads for other Examiner articles pushed at us after we publish something). I was amused at the thought that someone-who was hopefully paid at least minimum wage-had to read all our articles, something that wasn’t done until then. They cancelled the scoring system a few months ago (probably so they wouldn’t have to pay people to read our articles), but left the badges and leaderboard, which are automated. My current positions, given that I have barely written one article a month for the last year, is #75 out of 889 Examiners in the general Food and Drink category, #16 of 189 in Drinks Examiners, and #82 of 706 of Los Angeles Examiners. Back when I cared about such things, I believe I only cracked the top 10 F&D once, for maybe a day. I suspect the vast majority of the people below me don’t write any articles at all, despite their inbox overflowing with automated pleadings from Examiner.com to write more so they can be promoted on the site, i.e., we’ll advertise your name instead of paying you a dignified salary.
The more articles written, the more writers on the site, the more Examiner.com can charge advertisers. Each one of us is essentially telling our social network to look at our content, because it’s so cool to be a real paid published writer, when the real purpose is to get ads to eyeballs. This national website is another Golden Goose in th
Philip Anschutz mpire. Anschutz is the reclusive and influential Los Angeles bazillionaire whose minions tried and failed to bring a football team back to L.A. (great article about him i The New Yorkerhere). Examiner.com exploits its workers, but so does any company. Anyone can write; it’s just like talking, right?
That’s not to say that slaving for Examiner.com hasn’t had its perks. Oh no, the perks have been quite dandy. When I was really trucking along, I averaged one bottle of free booze and one free dinner and drinks every week. Signing FedEx portable scanners to get alcohol became a favorite pastime. If only I could pay rent with comped tequila. Once I reached a certain point almost every article I wrote came with an FCC-mandated disclosure, mentioning the free goodies provided me. Over four years the swag grew considerably and if I had the cash value of the goodies instead, writing the Los Angeles Cocktails column for Examiner.co could ave been a real job. But alas, I drank away my earnings, which were much more generous from the liquor companies than Examiner.com.
Besides free drinks and meals at many of the top bars and restaurants in Los Angeles, besides weekly samples of not-cheap liquor, besides bartender kits, glasses, flasks, and reusable thumb drives drained of their EPKs, I was treated b
Pernod-Ricard o a first-class, all expenses paid trip to Mexico-Kahlúa’s “Bean to Bottle” tour-as well as a first-class, all expenses paid trip to Scotland to witness the opening of The Glenlivet’s distillery expansion. I know, I’m jealous of myself too. Let me float a reminder: $1.19 an hour to tempt liver cirrhosis.
There were some other highlights to these last four years of slosh that deserve special mention: thanks to Natalie Bovis
The Liquid Muse, for allowing me to write for her blog and paying me $20 a pop. Thanks t
The Public School or allowing me to teach a class on crafting cocktails that I was barely qualified to do. Thanks to the radio sho
Ridin’ Dirty or getting me up before noon on Fridays to tell people not to drink and drive on three separate occasions (and talk about the latest trends in cocktails). Thanks to EFFEN vodka for asking me to judge their cocktail contest.
Of the 335 articles I wrote, here are some of my favorites, not in any order:
There were so many articles I wanted to write, but didn’t and won’t. I feel very guilty about this, because there was hard work and free food and drink behind all of these. I apologize to all the owners, operators, bartenders, brand reps, publicists, and everyone else who gave me something and I never gave you the press you deserved besides a link and line item below.
Here are my unpublished fragments:
There are many more, too. I started saying no to my invites and offers about six months ago, and only just now worked up the effort to leave the cocktail blogging to someone else. I hope it will be someone I know who wants this title, but it’s up to Examiner.com, not me. If so, I’ll turn all my contacts, notes, and invites over to them, so they can hit the bars already tippled. If my successor isn’t known to me, they’re on their own.
There is a lot I am going to miss: surfing the wave of Los Angeles night life; knowing our great, professional, talented bartenders on a first name basis and being their test subject on new drinks and being able to afford my drinking habit. There’s no way I can go back to what I was drinking before this all started. In 2008, I could make a gin and tonic, a mojito, and a margarita. My skillz are mad now-not pro, but more than adequate to keep the household in my cups. I never intended to learn mixology. I picked L.A. cocktails because I wanted to investigate Los Angeles history, but figured I could do that with cocktails (and I did), but also so alcohol would be a tax write off (and it was). My personal Noble Experiment was a success, but last call has long past, the lights are on, the stools upturned, and my ride is here. Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed my company, and maybe we’ll meet again-hopefully not at an AA meeting.
Cheers!