How I amassed $1,000,000 on Medium, but there is no way you will ever be able to do it.

Elena Tucker
4 min readJun 1
copywritten 2018 Leigh Rubin

Now that I have lured you in with a completely false and patently preposterous headline, let me honest. Lately, a lot of things have been tiring me. I have been trying to go to bed earlier, but I haven’t been falling asleep quickly. It’s tough to get up at a reasonable hour if I’ve been falling asleep after one in the morning. So, it only makes sense that I’ve been a little more irritable and tired as of late. More things have been, “getting under my skin,” as the kids on the streets used to say back in the day.

I have been seeing a lot (more than two) of articles, for example, of people either complaining about getting paid less here, on Medium, or leaving Medium because they’ve been getting a paid pittance here, on Medium.

I get it. I used to make mad, mad money — somewhere between $20 and upwards of more than $50 a month. Now, I rarely make more than $8 a month. That’s right. I don’t remember the last time I cracked the $10 per month mark. And, that ain’t right.

Telling myself that I didn’t start writing on Medium because I needed money helps. I am stupidly lucky, and very aware. But it stings like a bastard nonetheless, and I do not blame the writers bailing on Medium one little bit. But, I’m also not here to add to the complaining. I’m here to say that I’m tired of the complaining.

What I am trying to say is, “Leave!” or, “Don’t leave. I’m sorry to see you go,” and if you do decide to part ways with Medium, please, keep in mind that you have a right to remain silent. Not every thought of yours has to be written down and shared with the world. Not every action has to be justified. You can just … go. (Unless you’re my friend. You know who you are. Then I must be notified by every means possible, and I would not dismiss adding carrier pigeons to text, e-mail and snail mail should you decide to depart this platform. It is here I got to know you not just as a writer, but as a person. And you know how I worry!)

I’m tired. I’m irritable. And if one more person complains about not being able to make a living writing tiny blogs or tiny flash fiction here, I would like to point out that not a single person guaranteed them a living here. Not a single person guaranteed them anything…

Elena Tucker

Writer and storyteller, immigrant, wife, mom, knitter, collector of jokes, lover of cheap, sweet wine.