Why not worry about it?
creating as a perfectionist.
When I started writing this newsletter, I had ideas of what it might become. I was inspired by Leslie’s ability to turn Substack into her primary source of income (I still am!!!), I had an idea that no one else was doing, and I was doing the creative (fun) part of the work already. Why not write about it?
In the process of typing that sentence, “write” autocorrected to “worry,” giving me the title to this essay. Talk about perfection.
I really wanted to see if this could become something. I’ll be totally transparent and admit I was really hoping that something could pay my [share of the] bills! Why is that so embarrassing to admit? Idk! But it is!
After my initial energy for the project wore off, as it unfortunately always does, I could think of about 15 reasons why it was a bad idea. Some of these reasons are rooted in fear, some of them are rooted in ego, some of them are completely valid - many of the valid ones boil down to time.
I simply do not have the time to be a freelance consultant, honor student (brag), homeowner, loving wife, daughter, sister, and friend, while remaining a person I like being and washing my hair regularly. I certainly don’t have time to commit to creating, writing, editing, and publishing a couple of newsletters every single week.
The speed in which I was cranking out Substack posts wasn’t working for me. I can’t realistically create as completely as I’d like to [and to the standards to which I’d like] in that short of a time, while also doing all the other things I need to do. I mean, I could do it, but I wouldn’t be sleeping enough and the posts would likely not be worth your time.
A large part of my identity is tied up in being proud of what I put out into the world. When I do something, I do it The Best it can be done or I don’t do it.
Call it perfectionism. You’d be right.
School started up again the week I last posted. I tried my best to get new content ready. On top of getting acclimated to a new semester (which is always challenging for me during the first couple of weeks), I spent roughly 12-14 hours working on Substack. For all my effort, I have 6 mostly useless drafts, 8 new Pinterest boards, and a couple of graphics that will likely never see the light of day. A week in, I realized that it might not be the right season for me to put so much time into publishing a creative outlet. And then it hit me…
It might never be.
To be clear - it is always the season to create. But when creating requires productivity, I lose the plot. Its the same thing that happened with We Live Here Now. The moment it got traction and I started to feel beholden to a publishing schedule, I quit all together. I just completely lost interest. What I am learning about myself through this process is that I am ok with that.
It almost certainly means that creating won’t be the way I pay my bills (ever), which has required a large adjustment in my thinking. For a long while I thought, if I only had the time to work on my art, I could make a living out of it. It could be my life. Its a beautiful idea. But I don’t think that anymore. It’s simply not realistic for the way in which I prefer to create (slowly) and the culture of constant content creation we live in (faster, more, better, now).
What I’ve learned is that I don’t want to make a living out of my art if I can’t do it my way. I want to play, and take long walks, and have fun, and make a mess, and make things that suck, and only produce things I am proud of, and I don’t want anyone to ever ask me what I am working on or when I will be done with it, ever.
I’m pretty sure you can’t get paid for that.
Artist, Adam JK, makes a mug that I own and love. Adorned on the side, in his signature block print handwriting, it says “DO WHAT YOU LOVE AND YOU’LL NEVER WORK A DAY IN YOUR LIFE WORK SUPER FUCKING HARD ALL THE TIME WITH NO SEPARATION OR ANY BOUNDARIES AND ALSO TAKE EVERYTHING EXTREMELY PERSONALLY.” The product description on Adam’s website says:
Hi, sorry to interrupt but it turns out that when you invest all of yourself into a passion it can become incredibly personal and under our current version of capitalism it’s very easy to mistake work for identity and before you know it you’re losing your mind over an email… The ceramic mug is here to hold your drinks or pencils or whatever as you do whatever you love best. Microwave and dishwasher safe.
I asked for this mug for Christmas a couple of years ago thinking that it would help inspire me to keep writing even when the process sucks. I am remiss to report that it didn’t work. Because the secret is - when doing anything sucks? A mug won’t change that. And when doing anything sucks? I am highly unlikely to continue doing it. I have an unparalleled aversion to suffering. I am not gritty. I love to quit. And I like that about myself.
To be clear: I am not quitting Substack. I am just releasing myself from the obligation to post with any consistency or frequency.
Will I still publish this newsletter? Yes! Hopefully often! Can you count on sitting down at the same time every week to read my thoughts on a particular subject? No! Definitely not!
I hope that doesn’t bother you. I hope you stick around. But if you don’t, that’s ok. This doesn’t pay my bills. And I’m ok with that.
I still love the mug, I just don’t love suffering. And even if I did, I don’t have the time for it.
Thanks for being here. I hope me making space for my needs helps you to make space for yours.
Sharlyn! This post makes me sad. Mostly because I think you have an AMAZING IDEA and I, for one, believe you totally *can* make a living doing your art in the way that feels best FOR YOU.
Sometimes we are FULL of ideas and they come so fast. Other times we feel like we'll never have another idea again. This is actually my creative cycle and I've learned to notice the patterns. To capitalize on the times when the ideas are flowing and give myself a break when I need to retreat/replenish.
I know when we look externally there seem to be so many "rules" to being an artist and creator, but they're all made up, to be honest. At the end of the day, they're all just opinions. The reason why we feel so much resistance to consistency the way it's been defined is because it doesn't work for us. And that's okay!
Sometimes I write a newsletter once a week. Other times I write multiple. And yet other times I skip a week and I have to give myself grace. My writing is worthy of sharing because I have something to say and there's value to that, not because I can churn it out like a machine.
I am not giving up on myself and I hope you won't either.