"It used to be that success brought fame. Now you need to be famous in order to even get a shot at success." - this is quite true, and the Matthew Principle means that more success accrues according to fame, rather than the quality of what is produced.
It is noble to create for the sake of creation itself, the expression of our higher-selves, our life force - and our reward is our learning, our growth. But we live in a world that requires bio-survival tickets (Robert Anton Wilson's term for money), the lack of which produce creativity constraining levels of anxiety. It's quite a conundrum.
I've never expected to make enough money from my books alone to live on (even though they all earn out), they're part of my 'writing portfolio' which I jigsaw together with an actual job as a kind of backbone. I make an insignificant amount from Substack subscribers, but regard it as part of the general promo of my work (as well as a place to experiment with some ideas purely for my own benefit) in the same way as pushing it on Twitter, bluesky, linkedin, insta, etc. I'd prefer not to bang on about my things online, but I don't hate it. I don't know about 5-9, but my writing is about 2-6.
I'm not a writer. I play rock and roll, specifically bass, in a couple bands; and I get the exact same impressions you're getting from the "success mavens" in my business that you do in yours. Like, exactly the same stuff. I don't want to start a cult; I don't want to operate a "marketing funnel", or create big-paying "superfans". My music doesn't require it, and I respect other people's lives too much to demand that much space in those.
What I do is Be Around, show the music card when it seems appropriate, and play live as much as possible. I make records, but only bc I have to to document the journey my bands are on. We sell shirts, CDs, etc., in person at shows we do. Aspiring for more seems like a waste of energy.
My philosophy, what little there is, is I do it to do it. I don't do it for what it'll give me; or who people will think I am for it. The math won't math, as you say. But the longer and more I do it, the better the chance I can leave something worthwhile behind when I'm gone. Who knows what people will value decades from now? Who even knows for sure what they value today? Keep doing it; making a mess, straightening it up, or not. Worry about what it may get you later, or not at all.
Last year I did a kind of audit, realised I was trying to do far, far too many things, and decided that if what I really wanted to do was write a book, I should use my scarce time to do that rather than write a newsletter or essays. I never monetised the newsletter and it originally started out as a way to keep tabs during a long parental leave period. But I now see it was a useful part of the book-writing process. It never would have made enough money to support itself though – far too labour intensive and niche.
I'm also increasingly concerned about the way in which creatives have been repeatedly putting their (unpaid) work into supporting tech platforms that are, in turn, supported by venture capital. These platforms often have great and ambitious intentions, but each of us has to work out if we will really make good on our own creative investments.
I agree with everything you've written, this really is like Spotify, we are commoditised. But if I didn't enjoy it I wouldn't be here, and what a desperate toil it would become if I tried to make more than a trickle income - such would send me packing. What I like about substack is the quality of the writing, the diversity (excluding nazis) and being in somewhat of a shared space with some great minds and artists, which I find very stimulating.
I understand. (Excuse me for thinking you were in a more formative point in your writer's life.) . It's possible that Medium's business model might be better for building a wider audience reach and having potential revenue through engagement alone—pay for clicks, in other words. I can't say from personal experience, but it seems like an interesting idea to try out.
The whole "platform" thing is a pain. When I was pitching my book to agents, I got a lot of "it's good but you haven't got a platform". I naively thought it was all about quality.
I've been in Substack for 8 months. It is not an easy place to gain a following, paid or otherwise. I write because that's what I do, and I have achieved that golden balance between writing time and time earning a living. This may be all I ever get out of it, but so far, it's a matter of not thinking in terms of product or material gain. You sort of walk and talk around that rather than going straight at it. How to enliven readers is for each writer to work out. The paradox is that pandering or second guessing will not help. It's better to have your own artistic goals in mind first and foremost. What are you trying to pull off? Then ask yourself: why does this piece have to be out in the world? Eventually, you will write relatable things that are in a voice that is yours.
I have decided to stop trying to be popular. In part because it has become clear to me why I have a psychological need to write. And if writing ended up being another job where I was beholden to a paying audience I think I would grow to loathe it. This is my own choice and other people are welcome to make their choices.
My take is that for years art (singing, dancing, storytelling) happened among working people and they did it because they enjoyed it. My Substack is the modern equivalent of some old bloke in the corner of the pub playing a fiddle. With each pint he sinks, his playing gets more exuberant and less recognizable. But all that matters to him is that fiddle and those people in that pub. He is never going on Top of the Pops and he does not give a f-.
None of that is to excuse the voracious greed of our tech robber barons. But it does keep me sane.
I'm on two sides here at once: I agree, and I disagree. I understand you have to make money for a living, and writing a novel will take time that will otherwise will be used to make money. In this light, you're very right that these times are bad for creativity.
At the same time, why are we thinking that success = money? Where does this come from? This is the kind of thought that fuels the sort of cycles that gets us stuck. I'm also trying to write more (not as high ambitions, but lets say something close), and I look at my writing session as a collection of "self dates," self care after work where I enjoy writing, enjoy a bar and a drink with myself, and go home. Making money out of it is completely removed, and I'm glad it is, I'd probably be just as drained from creativity if I thought about it.
I hear you about the lack of income for artists. It sucks. I also don't love that the only way for artists to make money is to teach their art (e.g., writers teach writing). It's not great. Specifically for the Grist, I personally would have loved to make it but the timing just doesn't work. If there was a recording or a poll of what times work best you might get more engagement, if that's what you're after.
"It used to be that success brought fame. Now you need to be famous in order to even get a shot at success." - this is quite true, and the Matthew Principle means that more success accrues according to fame, rather than the quality of what is produced.
It is noble to create for the sake of creation itself, the expression of our higher-selves, our life force - and our reward is our learning, our growth. But we live in a world that requires bio-survival tickets (Robert Anton Wilson's term for money), the lack of which produce creativity constraining levels of anxiety. It's quite a conundrum.
I've never expected to make enough money from my books alone to live on (even though they all earn out), they're part of my 'writing portfolio' which I jigsaw together with an actual job as a kind of backbone. I make an insignificant amount from Substack subscribers, but regard it as part of the general promo of my work (as well as a place to experiment with some ideas purely for my own benefit) in the same way as pushing it on Twitter, bluesky, linkedin, insta, etc. I'd prefer not to bang on about my things online, but I don't hate it. I don't know about 5-9, but my writing is about 2-6.
I'm not a writer. I play rock and roll, specifically bass, in a couple bands; and I get the exact same impressions you're getting from the "success mavens" in my business that you do in yours. Like, exactly the same stuff. I don't want to start a cult; I don't want to operate a "marketing funnel", or create big-paying "superfans". My music doesn't require it, and I respect other people's lives too much to demand that much space in those.
What I do is Be Around, show the music card when it seems appropriate, and play live as much as possible. I make records, but only bc I have to to document the journey my bands are on. We sell shirts, CDs, etc., in person at shows we do. Aspiring for more seems like a waste of energy.
My philosophy, what little there is, is I do it to do it. I don't do it for what it'll give me; or who people will think I am for it. The math won't math, as you say. But the longer and more I do it, the better the chance I can leave something worthwhile behind when I'm gone. Who knows what people will value decades from now? Who even knows for sure what they value today? Keep doing it; making a mess, straightening it up, or not. Worry about what it may get you later, or not at all.
Last year I did a kind of audit, realised I was trying to do far, far too many things, and decided that if what I really wanted to do was write a book, I should use my scarce time to do that rather than write a newsletter or essays. I never monetised the newsletter and it originally started out as a way to keep tabs during a long parental leave period. But I now see it was a useful part of the book-writing process. It never would have made enough money to support itself though – far too labour intensive and niche.
I'm also increasingly concerned about the way in which creatives have been repeatedly putting their (unpaid) work into supporting tech platforms that are, in turn, supported by venture capital. These platforms often have great and ambitious intentions, but each of us has to work out if we will really make good on our own creative investments.
I agree with everything you've written, this really is like Spotify, we are commoditised. But if I didn't enjoy it I wouldn't be here, and what a desperate toil it would become if I tried to make more than a trickle income - such would send me packing. What I like about substack is the quality of the writing, the diversity (excluding nazis) and being in somewhat of a shared space with some great minds and artists, which I find very stimulating.
I understand. (Excuse me for thinking you were in a more formative point in your writer's life.) . It's possible that Medium's business model might be better for building a wider audience reach and having potential revenue through engagement alone—pay for clicks, in other words. I can't say from personal experience, but it seems like an interesting idea to try out.
The whole "platform" thing is a pain. When I was pitching my book to agents, I got a lot of "it's good but you haven't got a platform". I naively thought it was all about quality.
I've been in Substack for 8 months. It is not an easy place to gain a following, paid or otherwise. I write because that's what I do, and I have achieved that golden balance between writing time and time earning a living. This may be all I ever get out of it, but so far, it's a matter of not thinking in terms of product or material gain. You sort of walk and talk around that rather than going straight at it. How to enliven readers is for each writer to work out. The paradox is that pandering or second guessing will not help. It's better to have your own artistic goals in mind first and foremost. What are you trying to pull off? Then ask yourself: why does this piece have to be out in the world? Eventually, you will write relatable things that are in a voice that is yours.
Another great piece, this one by Sara Eckel, that covers very similar ground and is well worth your time:
https://saraeckel.substack.com/p/the-amateurization-of-everything
Over on Medium, David Burn wrote a good companion piece which is well worth reading: https://davidburn.medium.com/dreamers-gonna-dream-schemers-gonna-scheme-ab46cf649d0e
I have decided to stop trying to be popular. In part because it has become clear to me why I have a psychological need to write. And if writing ended up being another job where I was beholden to a paying audience I think I would grow to loathe it. This is my own choice and other people are welcome to make their choices.
My take is that for years art (singing, dancing, storytelling) happened among working people and they did it because they enjoyed it. My Substack is the modern equivalent of some old bloke in the corner of the pub playing a fiddle. With each pint he sinks, his playing gets more exuberant and less recognizable. But all that matters to him is that fiddle and those people in that pub. He is never going on Top of the Pops and he does not give a f-.
None of that is to excuse the voracious greed of our tech robber barons. But it does keep me sane.
Or to put it another way: https://tempo.substack.com/p/envy
I'm on two sides here at once: I agree, and I disagree. I understand you have to make money for a living, and writing a novel will take time that will otherwise will be used to make money. In this light, you're very right that these times are bad for creativity.
At the same time, why are we thinking that success = money? Where does this come from? This is the kind of thought that fuels the sort of cycles that gets us stuck. I'm also trying to write more (not as high ambitions, but lets say something close), and I look at my writing session as a collection of "self dates," self care after work where I enjoy writing, enjoy a bar and a drink with myself, and go home. Making money out of it is completely removed, and I'm glad it is, I'd probably be just as drained from creativity if I thought about it.
I hear you about the lack of income for artists. It sucks. I also don't love that the only way for artists to make money is to teach their art (e.g., writers teach writing). It's not great. Specifically for the Grist, I personally would have loved to make it but the timing just doesn't work. If there was a recording or a poll of what times work best you might get more engagement, if that's what you're after.