I’m part of the squeezed middle. A €325 weekly artist’s payment would be life-changing

It sometimes feels like the job alert I’ve set up for roles in the Civil Service is mocking me. I distinctly remember setting the parameters for admin posts, part-time, and yet I’m notified daily about job openings for consultant gastroenterologists or senior engineers. Listen, if I thought I could do either, I’d apply, but I’m not sure an MA in international relations and 20 years of journalism and writing is going to sort out anyone’s ulcer.

I set up the job alert because my middle has become so squeezed I’m afraid it’s going to meet in the centre. The squeezed middle refers to a portion of the population who earn in the middle- and lower-middle income ranges, find themselves struggling financially because of economic circumstances, but don’t qualify for significant Government support.

Last year I earned, as a single, self-employed creative, an amount low enough to qualify me for the social housing list and therefore HAP (Housing Assistance Payment). I spent much of the year co-writing a bestselling novel, and a large chunk in outpatient hospital treatment. The treatment is possible because I save to pay a substantial health insurance premium every year, as the treatment is only available privately, but I was unable to apply for Government disability supports because I had to continue working through the treatment to pay my rent. Ah yes, the squeezed middle.

I haven’t applied to be added to the social housing list because I’ve been working towards trying to get on to the property ladder, desperate to put the precariousness of renting behind me. I also carry a lower-middle-class sense of justice that tells me I don’t deserve to take Government supports out of the hands of those who need them most. I can manage, just about. Bring out the tiny violins.

I didn’t apply for the pilot of the Basic Income for the Arts (BIA) for that very reason. I was earning enough as a writer to pay my rent and get by and felt that there were others who needed it more. When the scheme was approved on a more permanent basis earlier this year, I decided my time had come.

Here is a payment specifically designed to help artists supplement their income and provide support for a career that often requires creating something out of nothing with no financial backing, with the hope that someone might purchase the final product. About 10,000 people applied for the BIA this year, with 2,000 eligible applicants to be chosen by lottery. In the same week I was once again turned down for an Arts Council literature bursary, the somewhat ham-fisted announcement of BIA recipients began.

Instead of all 2,000 being informed at once, only 750 were told. The rest of us now wait in a torturous limbo, with a vague notion that we’ll find out between now and the end of the year. The BIA payment would be life-changing, if only for three years. If I am lucky enough to get it, I will feel guilty, knowing there are others who need it more. But I need it too, right now.

This state of uncertainty is an apt reflection of the life of an artist. Apart from my regular column work, much of my time is spent unpaid unless I’m in a book contract. I’m on constant alert for an email that might inform me that a pitch has been accepted, an idea has legs, or a promising meeting has been scheduled. It is almost impossible to predict my income from month to month, never mind from year to year. There is no pension, no holiday pay, no sick pay. A book contract might look impressive on paper, but the payment is typically split into three or four lump sums over an 18-month or two-year period, with 15 per cent going to an agent and the usual amounts to tax, etc.

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Unless the work is hugely successful internationally, the royalty payments are pennies and only come if you earn back the advance the publisher paid you in the first place. The admin of sole, self-employed creative work is arduous and, obviously, unpaid. I collect VAT for the Government and pay my accountant to process the returns, even at times when I’m earning below the VAT threshold because my income is so difficult to predict and I don’t want to fall foul of Revenue.

“Get a proper job,” I hear the less bleeding-hearted of you cry. I have several jobs. The majority of people who produce the art you consume have several jobs. The arts are dominated by the privileged because they come from backgrounds that support them financially. I had great potential as an artist and musician at school age but didn’t pursue either for Leaving Cert because what would be the point? How would either pay a mortgage or put food on the table? Now, in my 40s, I’m trying my best, bowed by guilt that I have it so, so much better than so many others. I’m watching like a hawk for that BIA email. Fingers crossed.