I’ve learned that feeding the machine just makes it hungrier and hungrier. It keeps demanding 5 course meals when I’m only willing to give it a salad.
Since dropping IG and more recently “X”, I’ve learned that making for myself has been the best decision I’ve made in years. It’s easy to get caught up in the thick of things and want to make something for the audience. After a while, I decided that I was the audience, not them. And if I wasn’t happy with the output, then why would I care if anyone else was.
I completely agree. It doesn't matter how "good" (subjective term) something I post is, unless I'm relentless in how much I post about it, the amount of traction will be negligible. And that's fine, because I'm not willing to spam the audience I have just to try to get more.
I've been revisiting the work of Simon Sinek for the last few days.
He evangelizes the principle of beginning with ‘why’ we do something, which informs the resulting ‘how’ and then the ‘what’ of our endeavor.
This feels like a productive lens for viewing the dilemma Jeffery is describing here.
If we are clear with ourselves regarding why we are doing things, then all of the following decisions resolve organically.
Simon might say the only time Jeffery should be concerned with what I think is to provide the necessary context to clarify my understanding of his ‘why’.
And if I appreciate Jeffery’s ‘why’, then the form his art takes and the methods he uses to communicate about them will feel natural and appropriate. Credible.
What's more annoying than YouTube video titles and thumbnails that are tweaked to attract clicks but obscure the content and true purpose of the videos?
Thanks for thinking out loud on an important topic, Jeffery.
Than you for the terrific comment. I feel like why is often a moving target—at least it is for me. And I think in part it has to be a response to external changes as much as internal ones. For example, the podcasting landscape is much different now than it was when Bill and I started On Taking Pictures in 2012. As a result, while I still love podcasting, my why has to take into account some of those changes, especially in how they affect my own expectations of what I want to get out of it. It's all a learning curve and it's constant.
Merlin Mann, the podcasting goofball famous for his ‘inbox zero’ concept (see his Google talk; 43 Folders), had a personal meltdown while writing a book.
A publisher contracted him to write a book on personal productivity. But before he could finish it, he realized he was merely teaching people to chase their tails faster and faster.
He decided he didn't want to be in the productivity business anymore. He wanted to be in the business of figuring out how to live better and help others figure out what that meant for them.
My words, not his. Hopefully, that's an acceptable paraphrase.
It hit him hard. He never finished the book and gave back the advance.
But his career trajectory is much better since having that realization—for himself and his audience.
He’s a unique and enjoyable light.
If you're unfamiliar with his work, treat yourself to some episodes—I think he's your kind of person:
Yeah I've been good at ignoring the audience that with my personal blog. more out of necessity than anything. In 15 years I got about 7 non-family subscribers. With such small numbers the only person I was creating for was myself. Otherwise I would have quit long ago. In fact, I turned off all tracking and analytics on my blog.
Since joining Substack three months ago, that number has climbed up to 78....primarily because I'm active on Notes (not specifically promotion per se, since I've always spent time on internet forums). However, I noticed that the tracking on this newsletter platform has added subtle pressure to the creation. For example, I was excited when I shot above 1000 monthly opens...and conversely dismayed when it dropped to about 900. I think I joined Notes early enough to get some of the "new social media platform" energy, but that has waned.
Really, I just need to keep on focusing on making like I have for the past decade and a half. If folks join cool. If not, cool too. But yeah, it's hard not look at the numbers and once you do, it can mess with you.
Substack has been an interesting experiment. My audience numbers seem to have peaked, despite me being consistent about putting two things out a week. And actually, I'm okay with it, because it's gotten me in the habit of writing more consistently, which has made me a better writer (I think). I've got some new things I may start posting, but I have to be able to REALLY let go of any expectations around it before I do. Otherwise, I'm just setting myself up for disappointment.
Yes, I get a similar vibe. A couple folks per week are still subscribing to me but things feel less vibrant on notes. Like you, I’m still grateful for getting the prod to get more regular - both in writing and sketching so it’s a win for sure.
I read this lying in bed this morning after waking up at 06:38 and not being able to get back to sleep. Once again, it's as if Jeffery is in my head, rummaging around and stealing my thoughts to write a Substack. Imagine my joy at opening up Overcast to walk the dog only to find a new ep of OTP! So my day was set; my thoughts were loose and I felt excited to keep doing what I'm doing because I like doing it and it helps me to keep my mental health above the waterline. The part that hit home for me though -- in the podcast more than in this piece -- was when Bill said that he would be happy if his life stayed just as it is. I'm not quite there because of our financial situtation, so there is an added pressure for me to consider the revenue component a little harder. But, as Jeffery so eloquently put it in his article, that takes energy away from creating what I want to see in the world. Then I start to wonder about just how I can help others with what I make if they never actually find me. I don't have an answer. 'Just build it and they will come'? I'm not so sure about that.
These days I don't consider what my (very small) audience might want. I don't do photography for them; it's for me. I guess as I hit share I wonder what they might think, but, in reality, I don't care that much (a tiny bit of me still does) because I have shot for me, I like what I do, and if anyone does happen to like what I share that's a bonus.
I’ve learned that feeding the machine just makes it hungrier and hungrier. It keeps demanding 5 course meals when I’m only willing to give it a salad.
Since dropping IG and more recently “X”, I’ve learned that making for myself has been the best decision I’ve made in years. It’s easy to get caught up in the thick of things and want to make something for the audience. After a while, I decided that I was the audience, not them. And if I wasn’t happy with the output, then why would I care if anyone else was.
Make for yourself. First and always.
I completely agree. It doesn't matter how "good" (subjective term) something I post is, unless I'm relentless in how much I post about it, the amount of traction will be negligible. And that's fine, because I'm not willing to spam the audience I have just to try to get more.
I've been revisiting the work of Simon Sinek for the last few days.
He evangelizes the principle of beginning with ‘why’ we do something, which informs the resulting ‘how’ and then the ‘what’ of our endeavor.
This feels like a productive lens for viewing the dilemma Jeffery is describing here.
If we are clear with ourselves regarding why we are doing things, then all of the following decisions resolve organically.
Simon might say the only time Jeffery should be concerned with what I think is to provide the necessary context to clarify my understanding of his ‘why’.
And if I appreciate Jeffery’s ‘why’, then the form his art takes and the methods he uses to communicate about them will feel natural and appropriate. Credible.
What's more annoying than YouTube video titles and thumbnails that are tweaked to attract clicks but obscure the content and true purpose of the videos?
Thanks for thinking out loud on an important topic, Jeffery.
I appreciate you.
Than you for the terrific comment. I feel like why is often a moving target—at least it is for me. And I think in part it has to be a response to external changes as much as internal ones. For example, the podcasting landscape is much different now than it was when Bill and I started On Taking Pictures in 2012. As a result, while I still love podcasting, my why has to take into account some of those changes, especially in how they affect my own expectations of what I want to get out of it. It's all a learning curve and it's constant.
And sometimes your ‘why’ can change mid-project.
Merlin Mann, the podcasting goofball famous for his ‘inbox zero’ concept (see his Google talk; 43 Folders), had a personal meltdown while writing a book.
A publisher contracted him to write a book on personal productivity. But before he could finish it, he realized he was merely teaching people to chase their tails faster and faster.
He decided he didn't want to be in the productivity business anymore. He wanted to be in the business of figuring out how to live better and help others figure out what that meant for them.
My words, not his. Hopefully, that's an acceptable paraphrase.
It hit him hard. He never finished the book and gave back the advance.
But his career trajectory is much better since having that realization—for himself and his audience.
He’s a unique and enjoyable light.
If you're unfamiliar with his work, treat yourself to some episodes—I think he's your kind of person:
Roderick On The Line
You Look Nice Today
Irreconcilable Differences
Back To Work
YES!
Yeah I've been good at ignoring the audience that with my personal blog. more out of necessity than anything. In 15 years I got about 7 non-family subscribers. With such small numbers the only person I was creating for was myself. Otherwise I would have quit long ago. In fact, I turned off all tracking and analytics on my blog.
Since joining Substack three months ago, that number has climbed up to 78....primarily because I'm active on Notes (not specifically promotion per se, since I've always spent time on internet forums). However, I noticed that the tracking on this newsletter platform has added subtle pressure to the creation. For example, I was excited when I shot above 1000 monthly opens...and conversely dismayed when it dropped to about 900. I think I joined Notes early enough to get some of the "new social media platform" energy, but that has waned.
Really, I just need to keep on focusing on making like I have for the past decade and a half. If folks join cool. If not, cool too. But yeah, it's hard not look at the numbers and once you do, it can mess with you.
Substack has been an interesting experiment. My audience numbers seem to have peaked, despite me being consistent about putting two things out a week. And actually, I'm okay with it, because it's gotten me in the habit of writing more consistently, which has made me a better writer (I think). I've got some new things I may start posting, but I have to be able to REALLY let go of any expectations around it before I do. Otherwise, I'm just setting myself up for disappointment.
Yes, I get a similar vibe. A couple folks per week are still subscribing to me but things feel less vibrant on notes. Like you, I’m still grateful for getting the prod to get more regular - both in writing and sketching so it’s a win for sure.
I read this lying in bed this morning after waking up at 06:38 and not being able to get back to sleep. Once again, it's as if Jeffery is in my head, rummaging around and stealing my thoughts to write a Substack. Imagine my joy at opening up Overcast to walk the dog only to find a new ep of OTP! So my day was set; my thoughts were loose and I felt excited to keep doing what I'm doing because I like doing it and it helps me to keep my mental health above the waterline. The part that hit home for me though -- in the podcast more than in this piece -- was when Bill said that he would be happy if his life stayed just as it is. I'm not quite there because of our financial situtation, so there is an added pressure for me to consider the revenue component a little harder. But, as Jeffery so eloquently put it in his article, that takes energy away from creating what I want to see in the world. Then I start to wonder about just how I can help others with what I make if they never actually find me. I don't have an answer. 'Just build it and they will come'? I'm not so sure about that.
Sorry for being all up in your head, Cams. :)
Being of service is definitely at the core of how I want to proceed. I'm just having a hard time figuring out what that looks like.
Yep. Same. Let’s just keep going, and keep talking!
These days I don't consider what my (very small) audience might want. I don't do photography for them; it's for me. I guess as I hit share I wonder what they might think, but, in reality, I don't care that much (a tiny bit of me still does) because I have shot for me, I like what I do, and if anyone does happen to like what I share that's a bonus.