Category: WritingCategory: Writing

I get to talk to a lot of creative people, and whenever I mention the whole “having a website,” folks tune out. I think this happens because for the last decade we’ve been hammering our creative round pegs into the templated square hole website builder platforms, and they feel gross.

Not to mention we’ve been throwing our best work onto social media platforms, where at least we get some LIKES and replies on occasion, right (even when hardly anyone sees them).

For me, posting to my site (like right now) is lower stakes writing. I don’t need to think about if an algorithm will pick it, or if someone might misinterpret me and leave a nasty comment.

This site exists between something like Morning Pages, which no one will see, or a full-blown email newsletter, which goes to thousands of people.

Here is where ideas germinate, in public, with just enough tension. Something I write is likely to be referenced a week from now, or even a year (or more) later.

“My blog posts inform the posts I haven’t written yet, they become the solutions to problems I didn’t know I had. They get referenced in member calls and workshops. They become subconscious scripts for future conversations I’ll have months from now.”

Good ideas have to start somewhere.

This came up in yesterday’s Break Up 💔 With Social Media call.

“I’ve had (group) calls with one other person… “but I have all these thousands of subscribers, this should be bigger,” I’ll think… but that one conversation might be the seed of something you post two months later that turns into something else.”

If four people show up for your Live stream, or 10 people read your newsletter, be present in the moment and realize you’re still building even when it doesn’t look it. I know it’s hard because I’ve been there, but we can’t always hit home runs every time we step up to the plate.

Come to our next Let’s Break Up 💔 With Social Media call with Chuck Marshall, where he’ll be talking about Why Every Artist Needs a Website.

I drop post ideas into WordPress drafts throughout the week. Then, on the weekends, I flesh out those posts and schedule them.

That’s over 100 posts so far this year on this site. Just four have 100+ views. But this is the practice, something I do regardless of who shows up.

My blog posts inform the posts I haven’t written yet, they become the solutions to problems I didn’t know I had. They get referenced in member calls and workshops. They become subconscious scripts for future conversations I’ll have months from now.

Blogging is lower stakes writing, and the payoff goes far beyond views.

One thing about Substack is every newsletter you send is a “launch.” It’s to everyone, your whole audience! It can be intimidating, knowing that everything you write will be seen by 40% of the people you send it to.

Since I’ve set up this site, I find myself posting sometimes twice a day. It feels like my music blogging days, when I found an interesting band or quote, I’d dive into WordPress and just get something posted. That’s exactly what I’ve done today with this post!

Back in those days my music blog could get 5,000 visitors a day – hey, it was 2003!

Now, though, I can write on this site in relative “silence,” without thinking too much about typos or making sure each post is my absolute best.

So I was delighted when I found this quote from Tracy Durnell, (via the Josh Spector newsletter)

If you only write when you’re sure you’ll produce brilliance, you’ll never write. Blogs can help writers trick ourselves out of performance anxiety with lower stakes.

I think about it like this: you can do Morning Pages, which is private, and not for publication of course. Then there’s SENDING A NEWSLETTER. That’s public, that’s out there, it’s showtime!

The in-between is a blog.

It’s public, but… semi-public. Less public than let’s say Cory Doctorow, with his Pluralistic blog.

Have you seen him talk on stage for over an hour about Enshittification? He’s rattling off facts and figures and ideas like he’s reading from a script! Why? Because he writes so much everyday! He wrote a BOOK about it!

Go beyond the idea that you “need eyeballs” for your efforts to be worthwhile, and believe that writing about what you do in a lower stakes manner might be the best thing for your work.

What if you wrote five blog posts for every newsletter you send?

Most people won’t see your blog post, while the newsletter gets delivered to inboxes.

The blog is practice. The newsletter is performance.

A comic works new material, but first they write without an audience.