The Consumable Artist
my on-again off-again relationship with writing and thoughts on being "consumable"
Lately, I haven’t been sleeping. My mind has been consumed by thoughts about my writing. What should I write next? Should I try to pitch that idea? Is it good enough to be pitched? What if can’t think of any good ideas? What do I have to say that others haven’t? Can I actually do that topic justice? Do I actually think anyone will publish my work? What if I wasn’t meant to write? Every night, these thoughts and others go through my head. Suddenly, my shoulders feel tense and my chest feels heavy and I can no longer breathe with ease.
It’s all a bunch of self-conscious bullshit that I know has no real value or truth. I’ve proven time and again that I can write, that I can continue to come up with topics to write about, that my work resonates with people—even if it’s a small group. But there’s always that part of me that worries, one day, it’ll all stop. One day, I’ll just stop writing and I’ll never write again. And that scares me more than anything.
A few months ago, I was going through a serious case of writer’s block. No matter how hard I tried to write, every word felt forced and every idea felt uninteresting. It had gotten to the point that I was actually avoiding opening my laptop. I couldn’t face the prospect that my writing days might be over, that it might simply have been a phase, another hobby—one of many—that I once again tossed aside, unfinished.
I was so busy with holiday celebrations, family, friends, travel, and other obligations that I rarely had the time to think about writing the way I used to. I used to have all the time in the world to think and research and draft my posts, but then life took hold and suddenly all that time was gone. I either made time to write, or I didn’t write at all. So, I chose not to write.
However, I don’t mean I decided I’d rather not write. What I mean is, rather than face imperfection in my writing, I decided to just not do it. If I couldn’t thoroughly write about a topic, covering every aspect of it, then why do it? Why write at all? Is it not the writer’s job to give a thorough account of a topic? Do we not owe it to readers to always acknowledge different perspectives? To talk about the things they most want to know about? Are we not simply writing for our readers?
Are we not always trying to sell our art to an audience?
I always think of the hit 90’s TV show Friends whenever this topic comes to mind, specifically the characters Monica and Chandler. At some point, either during or after the show, it’s mentioned that the affair between the two was never supposed to continue on the way it did. It was supposed to be a silly, one-time fling that got a lot of laughs, kept the audience on their toes and then faded away as though it never happened. But when the writer’s were met with screams and cheers that seemed to go on forever during the live taping of this scene, they realized maybe it was more.
It’s one of those instances in which the writers decided to not only listen to their audience, but actually rework the show based on their input. And it paid off. I think a person can tell when a movie, book, or TV show includes something simply to appease their audience—Marvel, I’m looking at you—because it often comes off feeling forced; unauthentic. But for Friends, it was different.
In a Vanity Fair article about the unexpected couple, writer Saul Austerlitz explains that as the romance continued
“…the writers found that they loved writing for Chandler and Monica together. Their relationship introduced colors to their personalities that had previously been undefined.”
As it turned out, the romance between Chandler and Monica wasn’t just something fans of the show wanted to happen, it was also good for the characters and the writers. It was truly meant to be. It just so happened to perfectly align with higher ratings.
Of course, my writing and writing for a show like Friends are two completely different things, but I always wondered—since it was originally never meant to be—if the writers actually wanted to add in the Chandler and Monica romance or if they did it begrudgingly for views.
It stumbles into my mind here and there because it’s not always that fairytale-like. Creating for the sake of the creation doesn’t always align with what gets the most views. And unfortunately, creatives, especially smaller creators, are often forced to sacrifice their interests for the sake of the audience.
It raises a question writers and other creatives are often faced with, especially when you’re trying to turn your art into a somewhat feasible source of income: who am I doing this for?
***
When I was in college, taking at least 2 writing classes every quarter—my school was weird and went by quarters (10 weeks) rather than semesters (14-16 weeks I think). I guess because a full schedule of classes isn’t stressful enough—I was constantly told to think about my audience. Of course, as a college student with little time to think about anything beyond my next assignment, I really never gave it much thought. But, when I joined Substack, I found much of the same.
I read all kinds of posts on “what to think about first when starting your own blog”, “how to know what to name your blog”, “deciding your niche”, etc. Nearly every single one mentioned thinking about your audience, who it is you’re writing for.
So, as I gained subscribers, I paid attention to which posts got the most views. Surprisingly—or maybe not—some of my least favorite articles gained the most attention, while some of my favorites sat among the shadows gathering dust. Even though I’ve always written about the things that interested me, for a time, I found myself chasing topics that I knew would garner a lot of attention. I was simply writing for views.
One moment, I loved what I had written, I was proud of every word, every sentence, the way it flowed, and the next, I was thrust into an emotional pit of despair over whether or not I’d be able to write anything that appealed to people ever again. The highs and lows of creating took their toll, and not too long after, I began to feel burnt out, creatively unfulfilled, and then I just stopped writing.
I felt hollow, constantly prioritizing mainstream content in order to remain in the viewer’s warm gaze. I was consuming everything I could, filling myself with idea after idea, the same thoughts and perspectives over and over, and then vomiting them all back up in a similar manner, just a bit more digested.
Lately, I’ve been falling back into that same pattern. It’s so important to be a reader in order for one to write. It’s often how we find our next idea or even our best ones, but it’s even more important not to slip into regurgitation.
But it’s so hard not to! Especially now, when the algorithms are always pushing the same popular, mainstream ideas and perspectives to the top. It can feel impossible to escape. And even harder not to fall for the enticing allure of adding our own voice to it if it means we might be heard, even if just for a second, before we’re drowned out by the rest of the noise.
***
I would like to say that the main difference between my writing then and now is that I’m writing for myself rather than others, but that would be untrue. Yes, I write what most appeals to me, but I still pay attention to the conversations around me. I have to. It’s kind of a requirement. But I love it. I love reading about the things going on in the world, online, weird social media trends and everyone’s perspectives on all of it. I truly hope this kind of open conversation never dies, but I’m not going to force myself to be a part of every single one as I once did. Unlike how it was for the creators of Friends, it’s just not beneficial—or sustainable for that matter—for me to create based on views.
Two months ago, in the thick of my writer’s block, I was sitting in the car when I started crying. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I hadn’t been able to write. I had been running around from one thing to the next; the responsibilities and obligations piling up all around me. And it’s not like some of them weren’t fun. I loved visiting Chicago, going out to a bar that had scare actors on Halloween, but as I sat in the car that day—unwelcome tears streaming down my face—I thought: there’s nothing I want more than to write.
Maybe it was the guilt talking—I can’t always tell if I actually want to do something or if I just feel guilty for not being more productive—but, later that week, I wrote for the first time in over a month. And it felt good. That visceral need deep within me, that drove me to tears that random November day as I sat in my car, eased; it felt full, or at least satisfied for the time being.
And for now, maybe that’s enough.
Maybe.
Thursday the 25th of this month marks my 1-year-anniversary on Substack!🥳 I’m so so grateful to all of you for being here, reading my work, liking, commenting, and all that! I’ve also officially reached 70 subscribers!🥳 It truly means so much when I see someone choose to subscribe to my page or whenever I read your comments. I’m just so happy that there are people out there who enjoy what I write enough to subscribe and read my work that I pretty much write on a whim every week hahaha.
With that said, I’m currently working toward being published by a publication, almost any publication at this point lol, so I might not have quite as much time to post as often as before. However, I’m still going to do my best to publish every week, but it may be more like every other week. I hope you’ll still stick around! Thank you so much for your support <3
🩵I would love to know…🩵
Are you an artist of any kind? Do you paint, play an instrument, write, or participate in any other creative indulgences?
Do you ever feel the pressure to play into what’s most popular at the moment so as to gain views and try to reach a wider audience? It’s honestly so hard not to. I often feel it’s part of my job to learn how to do this, but it’s just so exhausting
Do you ever get exhausted with social media and online content in general, just feeling as though you’re in a constant loop of consuming, consuming, consuming until you’re filled to the top but you can’t stop and so you just keep getting fed more and more? No? Just me? lol
I find it to be an interesting balance of wanting to be seen and heard but also being honest with yourself in your craft. My wife and I talk about this often when writing songs for church. When we sit down to write a song are we writing it to sound catchy and to appease others or are we writing it from a place of honesty and genuineness to God? A place of authenticity of who God created us to be and not trying to sound like what’s “trendy.”
Anyone can write a song, just like anyone can write an article, but the ones that come from an honest place and from the heart are the ones that I’ve found really speak to others. Vulnerability is power. I believe what people want most in the world is something real and authentic, and that only comes through when the artist is real and authentic. So keep it up dude! Proud of you!
Ugh I felt this so hard lol. Creative writing was my major in college so I was constantly told to think about who I’m writing for, who I want my audience to be, and ~building my PeRsOnAl BrAnD!!~. Which I understand, especially when you do want to make money with your art. But man does it get exhausting, especially when going through your late teens/early twenties, when your identity changes so much and it affects your writing and your ability to be consistent with a personal brand. Congrats on your 1 year anniversary and 70 subscribers! 💕