I'm coming up on my one-year anniversary on Twitter. Planning to delete my account and write about my experience in a few weeks, particularly highlighting the superficiality of the experience.
I hadn’t heard of this work, and it’s very interesting to think about what’s behind it! I like the points you make about why a writer writes. I think sometimes one (myself included in this statement) put so much emphasis on the success of what one writes being tied to recognition or money and as a result doesn’t write. Because what’s the point. It’s like going from point a to point z and not allowing for a journey.
I had a college friend once randomly ask me, When did you give up on being famous? I was in my 20s and it floored me. The implication is that he (also a super creative friend and dreamer) was giving up and wanted to check in if I was there yet. I had to admit I was way ahead of him.
Maybe it’s that need to be heard/recognized/famous that is good and keeps writers writing. I hope you have in no way given up on being famous. 😁
Samuél, I’m actually angry at how much this affected me, existentially as an author and creator. Capitalism has infected me. If it doesn’t make me money it’s not valuable and therefore not worth doing. How gross is that.
I did talk about this in a recent piece vis-a-vis AI and didn’t come to many hopeful conclusions. We as a society don’t value art, so we don’t pay for it, so artists have to do other things that do pay in addition to, or instead of, doing art. Less art in the works leads to unhappier people. And also people who would be artists but who churn out content for a quick buck at the expense of creating anything meaningful and thus just add to the useless noise.
Really great Samuél! So many tandems would love to talk to you about! Especially the culture of Twitter etc. & likes which push 3rd rate writers to NY Times book lists. Bravo!! ❤️
Your piece is incredibly moving and touches my writer-soul on every level. I am one of the (I’d like to say “increasing,” maybe, after reading this?) few who finds far more joy in writing in semi-humble anonymity than the hollow churn of self-promotion. Merci, Samuel.
Merci pour cet article, qui a résonné avec ma propre journey en tant qu’écrivain.
Plus les années passent et plus je commence à accepter l’idée de rester dans l’anonymat avec une paix intérieure: J’ai beau garder l’envie de partager mes écrits -notamment le roman que je prépare depuis 7 ans- mais l’attrait pour la lumière et tout le chemin pour se vendre en tant qu’auteur ne me disent plus grand chose.
Pourquoi “vendre” lorsqu’on peut aussi partager?
Bien entendu, être rémunéré pour le temps passé à coucher des mots sur le papier ne me déplairait pas, mais la folie des grandeurs et la courses aux nombres devient juste lassante. Devoir entretenir la vitrine de nos réseaux sociaux avec du contenu pour “rester à jour” est chronophage, et à force je ne sais même plus si mon compte Instagram est fait pour le “moi auteur” ou le “moi personnel”. Le mélange constant de la vie privée et public crée une anxiété parfois difficile à vivre.
Finalement, ce qui compte le plus pour moi est le message et la qualité de ce que j’écris, et non plus le fait que ce soit bankakle ou attrayant aux yeux de la masse. Mais je pense tout de même que le fait que cet art soit reçu et lu par des personnes puisse influencer sur ma motivation (avoir des retours, des personnes qui comprennent, qui interprètent et s’approprient mes mots!).
Dernière pensée: L’écriture est aussi un bon moyen de faire une thérapie par soi même, et ça, ça n’a pas de prix !
Merci encore pour l’article, je vais aller me renseigner sur les auteurs partagés :)
Ps: I’m still waiting for un exemplaire de Slim & The Beast ahha
I think it has always been hard to make a living from art. I love the example of Van Gogh provided earlier in this stream. Plus, for the few who do make such a living, luck plays as much a role as anything else. Who you know, where you live, and serendipity all play roles alone with self-promotion and talent.
Little Steven (Steven Van Zandt) has made some relevant observations here from the perspective of music. He notes that you can create great music, but without management and distribution support your creations will languish and ultimately get tossed in the trash by your kids when they clean out your garage following your death. So, he sees roles for all the people who work together to make successful records.
These roles are further illustrated by Marc Myers in his book Anatomy of a Song. Looking at records that became influential hits, he often notes the lucky breaks, the additions made by session musicians, and the coincidences of having the right collaborators available at the right time that all helped take songs with potential and made them commercial successes. Almost none of the songs he highlights sprang fully formed from their creator.
So, I think we should avoid trying to equate successful art with making money. If something speaks to you and if you see (or hear) something new in the piece every time you come back to it, then it is successful art. Take pleasure from it. Getting the piece out to a wide audience is another issue with all the concerns about promotion, publicity, and more luck that you note.
I am glad to interact with you on Substack, but I also realize that there are thousands of other good writers of whom I an unaware.
So, keep creating and look for paying gigs that you enjoy.
Wonderful examination, Samuél.
I'm coming up on my one-year anniversary on Twitter. Planning to delete my account and write about my experience in a few weeks, particularly highlighting the superficiality of the experience.
my god i have a million things to say. i’ll just start with thank you.
I hadn’t heard of this work, and it’s very interesting to think about what’s behind it! I like the points you make about why a writer writes. I think sometimes one (myself included in this statement) put so much emphasis on the success of what one writes being tied to recognition or money and as a result doesn’t write. Because what’s the point. It’s like going from point a to point z and not allowing for a journey.
I had a college friend once randomly ask me, When did you give up on being famous? I was in my 20s and it floored me. The implication is that he (also a super creative friend and dreamer) was giving up and wanted to check in if I was there yet. I had to admit I was way ahead of him.
Maybe it’s that need to be heard/recognized/famous that is good and keeps writers writing. I hope you have in no way given up on being famous. 😁
Maybe perfect? Merci for this. I will share it despite all of the above because I reckon a few people I know need to hear it. x
Samuél, I’m actually angry at how much this affected me, existentially as an author and creator. Capitalism has infected me. If it doesn’t make me money it’s not valuable and therefore not worth doing. How gross is that.
I did talk about this in a recent piece vis-a-vis AI and didn’t come to many hopeful conclusions. We as a society don’t value art, so we don’t pay for it, so artists have to do other things that do pay in addition to, or instead of, doing art. Less art in the works leads to unhappier people. And also people who would be artists but who churn out content for a quick buck at the expense of creating anything meaningful and thus just add to the useless noise.
Ugh. And I’m one of them.
Really great Samuél! So many tandems would love to talk to you about! Especially the culture of Twitter etc. & likes which push 3rd rate writers to NY Times book lists. Bravo!! ❤️
Your piece is incredibly moving and touches my writer-soul on every level. I am one of the (I’d like to say “increasing,” maybe, after reading this?) few who finds far more joy in writing in semi-humble anonymity than the hollow churn of self-promotion. Merci, Samuel.
Merci pour cet article, qui a résonné avec ma propre journey en tant qu’écrivain.
Plus les années passent et plus je commence à accepter l’idée de rester dans l’anonymat avec une paix intérieure: J’ai beau garder l’envie de partager mes écrits -notamment le roman que je prépare depuis 7 ans- mais l’attrait pour la lumière et tout le chemin pour se vendre en tant qu’auteur ne me disent plus grand chose.
Pourquoi “vendre” lorsqu’on peut aussi partager?
Bien entendu, être rémunéré pour le temps passé à coucher des mots sur le papier ne me déplairait pas, mais la folie des grandeurs et la courses aux nombres devient juste lassante. Devoir entretenir la vitrine de nos réseaux sociaux avec du contenu pour “rester à jour” est chronophage, et à force je ne sais même plus si mon compte Instagram est fait pour le “moi auteur” ou le “moi personnel”. Le mélange constant de la vie privée et public crée une anxiété parfois difficile à vivre.
Finalement, ce qui compte le plus pour moi est le message et la qualité de ce que j’écris, et non plus le fait que ce soit bankakle ou attrayant aux yeux de la masse. Mais je pense tout de même que le fait que cet art soit reçu et lu par des personnes puisse influencer sur ma motivation (avoir des retours, des personnes qui comprennent, qui interprètent et s’approprient mes mots!).
Dernière pensée: L’écriture est aussi un bon moyen de faire une thérapie par soi même, et ça, ça n’a pas de prix !
Merci encore pour l’article, je vais aller me renseigner sur les auteurs partagés :)
Ps: I’m still waiting for un exemplaire de Slim & The Beast ahha
Sorry for the frenglish
UPDATE:
It turns out the anthology that I submitted has been published. And I'm in it. The mystery continues. Or perhaps culminates?
https://twitter.com/adalva/status/1553601147369361408
Samuél,
I think it has always been hard to make a living from art. I love the example of Van Gogh provided earlier in this stream. Plus, for the few who do make such a living, luck plays as much a role as anything else. Who you know, where you live, and serendipity all play roles alone with self-promotion and talent.
Little Steven (Steven Van Zandt) has made some relevant observations here from the perspective of music. He notes that you can create great music, but without management and distribution support your creations will languish and ultimately get tossed in the trash by your kids when they clean out your garage following your death. So, he sees roles for all the people who work together to make successful records.
These roles are further illustrated by Marc Myers in his book Anatomy of a Song. Looking at records that became influential hits, he often notes the lucky breaks, the additions made by session musicians, and the coincidences of having the right collaborators available at the right time that all helped take songs with potential and made them commercial successes. Almost none of the songs he highlights sprang fully formed from their creator.
So, I think we should avoid trying to equate successful art with making money. If something speaks to you and if you see (or hear) something new in the piece every time you come back to it, then it is successful art. Take pleasure from it. Getting the piece out to a wide audience is another issue with all the concerns about promotion, publicity, and more luck that you note.
I am glad to interact with you on Substack, but I also realize that there are thousands of other good writers of whom I an unaware.
So, keep creating and look for paying gigs that you enjoy.
Peace brother.