A high salary is a novelty to the average auto writer, who survives on catered food at car launches and the complimentary beverages in car showrooms. On the job, he thrives on engine notes and exhaust fumes – the inedible chicken soup for his soul. The frequent flyer miles he earns from all those junkets to test-drive new cars overseas are desperately exchanged for tins of Milo and loaves of bread. This artist really suffers for his art.
The temptation to go “commercial” is therefore great. Remuneration, rather than passion, pays the bills at the end of the day. And motor firms, especially global automotive conglomerates, offer highly competitive wages. Sweetening the deal are perks such as a shiny company car (with running costs covered), an even shinier corporate credit card and almost a month’s worth of annual leave. There’s also a wide, ever-changing choice of nubile interns eager to please.
The swanky office is also a major upgrade from the stuffy cubicle where the ex-artist wrote many a good story. Best of all, the pantry has free Milo and fresh bread. 
