Category: WritingCategory: Writing

I found out my dad died on July 30th, 2024.

We don’t know the exact time he passed, but he died alone in a trailer park in Florida. We didn’t have much of a relationship in the last seven or so years of his life for reasons I won’t go into, but I want to share a bit about his music.

My dad was an absolute music theory genius. He spoke in keys and modes and time signatures. He could play multiple instruments, listen to a song once, and play it for you backward and forward.

When I was a kid, he played in a country rock band called The Buckaroos, playing at ski resorts on the weekends and clubs during the week. He made good money playing guitar in the eighties.

Live music started to fade in our area, so he started teaching music out of his house. One of his students was a fiddle player who moved to Nashville and toured with a notable country artist or two.

In his later years, he’d seek out bass players and drummers, always looking to form a jazz trio. He had some luck getting gigs back in PA and later in Florida.

But when these groups fell apart, so did he.

He would still play at home, with his little Polytone amp that he bought in the 80s, playing his be-bop jazz and whatever else came out from his decades of experience.

While loading up our rental car with some of his belongings to take home, a neighbor named Otto pulled up, rolled down his window, and asked, “do you a photo of Ronnie I could have?”

My sister found a photo during the two days we cleaned out his trailer. It was newer, a shot in a grassy backyard, wearing his fancy shoes and his beret.

He loved that fucking beret.

“We would sit outside and listen to your dad play,” said Otto.

I handed him the photo that my sister found.

He didn’t say a word, but his eyes welled up.

“I’m glad you got to hear him play,” I said, and Otto drove away.

Dad’s idea of “success” was having a group so he could get booked at local venues. Without that, life seemed not… worth living.

And yet, his neighbors loved hearing the music he played.

It’s a lie that you’re not a real musician if you’re not booked at an actual venue.

The lie is real artists are in galleries, their names are on marquees, they have engineers setting up expensive mics in a studio in the hills.

The biggest lie is we have to make our entire living on the sale of our art, or else we’re just no-talent wannabes.

So many artists fall for this, feeling like 100 views isn’t enough, and they stop because “no one cares.”

I wake up thinking about the artists, poets, writers, and musicians we’ve lost because they couldn’t keep up with the “hitting it big” rat race of social media.

Somehow, 10,000 views aren’t enough because you really need 100,000. Having 12 people at a show on a Tuesday night is a waste of time. No one buys your art because you’re not making enough Reels.

It’s lies, it’s all bullshit.

Otto probably has that photo of my dad on his refrigerator or next to his record player.

The world doesn’t need another hot-take reaction to Spotify rates, or Instagram impressions – it needs you to release a three song demo you recorded you in your bedroom. Self-publish that piece of fiction.

Like the wise Cassidy Frost says:

“Go play a roller rink. Create your own festival. Tastemakers can’t take away your power if you’re creating a sick world around your music that other people want to be a part of. You have the tools. You don’t need the tastemakers.”

Someone needs your podcast episode about Edward Bouchet.

Someone in a small town would love to read your essay about landlocked countries.

You need to go to that open mic night and sing that song the universe dropped in your lap three months ago because someone in the crowd really needs to hear it.

Like Amy Stewart wrote, you need to “Be the Artist-in-Residence of Your World.”

Don’t wait for external validation from someone who just needs to fill up a Tuesday night, or fill a slot in their editorial calendar.

Don’t wait, don’t wait, don’t you dare wait to release your magic into the world because time spent waiting adds ups, and the regret compounds, and most of your belongings will end up in a dumpster a week after you die anyways.

Today Substack rolled out Substack Originals to go along with their new media tab in the app, and I got this question from Johnathan Dodson, which I answer above.

I think two things are true here:

1. Video and audio can be a great way to deepen your connection with your audience (heck, it’s what I’m doing right now).
2. You should do it only if you want to do it.

I reference Beth Spencer and the amazing work she does with her drawing sessions on Zoom, but she also makes videos for some of her posts, too.

A video like that brings you just a little bit closer to Beth. If you’re a fan, well, you’re probably a little bit more of a fan after watching that clip, you know?

At the same time, if the thought of talking on camera makes you sick to your stomach, then yeah, it’s probably a good idea to skip making videos. Or find a way to make videos in your own style, like Marcus does with his Probably Riding channel on Youtube.

I love how Marcus shares his love of riding bikes without ever doing the whole “talking into a camera” thing.

Photographer Noah Kalina walks around the woods and answers questions from his audience.

You can even just record small audio clips and upload those right to your posts, and those are wonderful, too! You don’t even need to make a full podcast – single blips of audio are still wonderful!

I don’t think you’ll get left behind by Substack if you don’t start making videos. Just focus on the subscribers you have in front of you today. Those are the people you need to build with, before you ever need to hope to get “promoted” by some official Substack channel.

A decent ChatGPT prompt could write you some copy for a new product, an upcoming tour, or a fancy new thing. Sure.

“Hey, new podcast episode!”

It just lays out the facts. The dates. The logistics.

But friends, there’s enough safe, dull, dry text out there, and we don’t need more.

Your work comes to life from your magic.

Don’t stop using your magic when talking about your work.

As Courtney Romano wrote recently:

“If you’re not creating an experience (aka something that has ups and downs and richness and depth and confusion and friction and tension and delight), then no one will pay attention. There are just too many other things to do.”

I hate to say you’re competing with other artists, authors, musicians, photographers… but… the people you’re trying to reach are busy watching Netflix, going to shows, walking around bookstores, going to exciting restaurants, swimming, kissing!

You don’t need to buy billboards or hire an agency to get the word out. You don’t need to make “video assets” or use trending audio.

But you must do better than “new thing!”

Paul Rudd doesn’t go on late-night TV shows, say, “Hello, my new movie comes out this Friday,” and walk off set.

He tells stories that aren’t even related to the movie. This comes easy for him because he’s been making movies since the early 90s, but still – HE IS USING HIS MAGIC.

In fact, he started a running gag with Conan O’Brien by not showing a clip from the movies he’s promoting. Instead, he’d show a clip of 1998’s ‘Mac and Me’ over and over again, for many years.

Only Paul Rudd could do that Mac and Me thing because he’s Paul Rudd. No computer – no other human – could provide the magic he brings.

You don’t need to perform outlandish stunts and hacks to promote your finished work, but you can do better than a dumb computer.

As an artist, you’ve got the same spark, the same magic inside you, just waiting to be set free. It probably won’t look like what other people are doing, but it can still resonate with the people you’re trying to reach because it’s 1000% you.

Lindsey Jordan (Snail Mail) talks to Monster Children about social media in the music world:

“I think that anybody who is encouraging you to make a TikTok hit is probably brain dead. Don’t listen to them. Usually, those tactics don’t work. I’ve never done an actual ‘tactic’ and had it work.”

Experts say not being on TikTok is a missed opportunity, but we miss opportunities every day because we are singular creative beings and must do the dishes or cover a shift at work.

There are people you didn’t reach yesterday because you didn’t display your art in a small gallery in Denver, CO, or play a set in a nightclub in Paris last night.

Sure, “everyone” is on TikTok right now, but “everyone” is also at an art gallery.

Where are you?

Why aren’t you in the same room as the creative people you love? Start a Zoom call if you can’t meet up locally. Imagine the opportunities that could develop from that energy and support!

Why don’t you have a call with that local curator / booking agent / producer this week? You’re probably just two conversations with the right people to get that set up. Opportunity!

Oh, you haven’t talked with anyone about a potential collaboration in the last year?

Here’s a recent example: a client I work with remotely invited me to an album release get-together in Brooklyn, NY, later this month.

I could stay home and create content for LinkedIn… or I could book a hotel room, make travel arrangements, and be around people I already have connections with.

I believe there are opportunities in my already-existing universe, and I don’t need to continuously throw pebbles in the ocean of “social media possibility” to get more.

How many opportunities exist right now in your creative universe? In your own inboxes? In the contacts in your phones? People you bump into at the coffee shop? On Discord?

We’ve all missed opportunities, but maybe it’s time that we intentionally invest our efforts in the opportunities that better align with our own magical journeys.

P.S. thanks Dino Corvino for that Monster Children tip

Today, I want to talk about feelings. Specifically, the feeling that you want your people to have when they get an email from you or see something you wrote online.

When I got the idea to start posting metal trivia on Twitter in 2011, I knew I wanted people to feel stoked when answering metal trivia questions on Twitter.

See, I could ask a question like, “in what year did Metallica’s ‘… And Justice For All” come out?” and the answer would be 1988.

But I thought about it, and no one gets excited yelling “1988” in line at the grocery store or hitting reply while at a show.

Could you imagine a heavy metal trivia show on TV in the mid 90s and contestants yelling out 1988? No way.

So I asked, “This ‘bass-less’ Metallica album came out in 1988.”

And I could imagine people excitedly tapping their phones and replying, “AND JUSTICE FOR ALL!” This led to people talking about the production of that album, discussing their favorite song, or talking about Cliff Burton (sorry, non-metalheads, if I lost you here haha).

Now, reverse engineer all this for whatever creative project you’re producing.

How do you describe what you’re doing in a way that would make someone feel something?

Say you’ve got a book tour coming up.

• Instead of “BOOK TOUR ANNOUCEMENT,” your subject line could be “Will I see you in Boston? New Haven? What about Providence?”
  Wait, what? My favorite author is coming to Boston? The New England area?! That’s where I am – I better click!
• Instead of “I have a new course,” say, “If you want to learn how to write a month’s worth of newsletters in one sitting, sign up for my new course.”
  People want to save time and make money and make an impact – make them FEEL that.
• Instead of “join my sci-fi community,” say “we’re debating the best / worst sci-fi movies in our Discord and you should join us.”
  People have thoughts about sci-fi movies. I have a sci-fi tattoo. People don’t get tattoos that say COMMUNITY (unless they’re big fans of Dan Harmon, I guess).
• Instead of “come see me at the market next week,” maybe say “my favorite things about setting up at the local market.”
  Sure, you’ll be selling at the market. But talk about all the things people love about markets – the food, the smells, the people, the dogs!

You don’t have to outrun a bear; you just have to outrun your friends.

You need to outrun people writing bland subject lines and boring social media posts. You just need to get people to feel something when they get your emails or visit your website.

Stop being precious and “trust the wildness in your heart.” Get a little wild, or loud, or weird. It’s how you’ve built a following, an audience, an email list.

”Your readers have signed up to go on the ride you decide for them. Be bold and lead the way,” said Nishant Jain of The SneakyArt Post.

Be bold and lead the way, indeed.