When going back is the way forward
Weekly letter, April 26th, 2024.
I'm about to do something revolutionary (for me.)
*anxious silence*
Here's the thing.
I've made the (for me, very common) mistake of listening so closely to the well-meaning advice of experts and other creators, that I've forgotten to pay attention to what's been working well for me. I do this alllll the time, and I can't help it.
As a result, I've been hellbent on changing things up in my business this past year - trying new things, pivoting, focusing more on art, focusing less on art, writing more of this or that, quitting YouTube, going back to YouTube, starting a podcast, leaving Substack, coming back to Substack...
The thought that "things need to change in order for me to move forward" has become so ingrained in me, that the other night, when I was lying in bed ruminating, and had the fleeting thought: "what if I just went back to what was working well before?" it almost short-circuited my brain.
What if the best path forward is not to change things up, but to keep on keeping on? Building on past successes.
"Duh, Louise", I know a lot of you are thinking. But you have to understand, my brain doesn't work like that. It's wired to seek novelty, learn new things, and start new things instead of keeping up with old ones. It's my greatest weakness, and one I'm constantly struggling with.
I'm also an anxious perfectionist who's way too susceptible to other people's opinions and advice.
So when I hear someone I look up to telling me to do x, y and z, or do whatever they are doing successfully, I drop everything and am like "YES! Of course. My way of doing things sucks anyways. Let's change it all up right now."
Writing weekly newsletters on Substack has worked really well for me, because:
It’s easy and pleasurable to publish on Substack. And there’s a community of sorts here. I’m not writing into a vacuum.
Weekly newsletters don't require a lot of inspiration or effort for me to maintain. I can always write about what I'm thinking, feeling and doing, regardless of what my "thing" is at the moment. I can't always produce long, quality, niche essays on a weekly deadline.
They feel more honest, casual and personal, and I prefer to write that way. As if to a close friend who already knows me, and not to an imagined crowd of strangers. I can have a dialogue with you this way, instead of feeling like I'm on a soapbox.
I like the fact that my newsletter archive reflects my honest journey as a creative and solopreneur over the past few years. It's not just a bunch of "evergreen content". It's a journal. It has all of the highs and the lows, the failures and successes, the lessons learned. It's both embarrassing and a source of pride for me at the same time, if that makes sense. 😂
Is writing these newsletters optimal if I want the maximum amount of eyes on my writing, and the maximum revenue for my business? Probably not. My writing will be more nebulous this way, not as contained, not as searchable, yada yada. But it works for me. It feels fun for me. It's something I've been able to keep up for years. And so it's optimal for me.
Another thing that's been working well for me in the past is YouTube. My issues with the platform aside: YouTube is what allowed me to grow my email list, and start selling courses.
Most importantly, I've loved making videos. Especially in the beginning. I still get to write. (I write scripts for pretty much all of my videos, otherwise I'd be a blabbering mess.) But I also get to do all the other fun things, like be on camera, record voice overs, select music, be creative with my editing, and connect with people from all over the world.
I've enjoyed the craft and the learning process of it.
And I want that back.
I've been filming several videos this week, and it's been so much fun. I'm learning a new editing software, and improving my editing skills. And I have a plan for making YouTube fun and exciting for me again.
And finally, art has been working well for me. Not trying to sell art and be a "traditional" artist, but sharing my art online, talking about it, and teaching it. Art might not be my only passion in life, but it is something I love deeply, and can do whenever, and whatever else is going in on my life. So why not continue making videos about it? Why not continue challenging myself to become a better artist, and share the journey with you all. That's what my YouTube channel was originally for, and that's what it will continue to be. (Even though I’ve now updated the channel name to match the name of this newsletter.)
Drawing and painting, making videos, and writing weekly newsletters. That's what's worked best for me in the past.
What hasn't been working well for me is following the standard entrepreneurial model of building sales funnels, scaling, and automating. It's led to sales, sure. But so did what I was doing before.
I also haven't enjoyed the model for premium subscriptions on my Substack that I've tried recently, where I create a bunch of extra content exclusively for paying subscribers. Making promises that I then have to stick to in order to not disappoint people.
I don't perform well under that kind of pressure. I immediately get anxious: "Am I delivering enough value?" "Are they regretting paying me?"
The only way for me to keep delivering my very best stuff on a regular basis, is to remove all expectations and let it be driven by inspiration. I've adopted the same mentality with my YouTube channel going forward. No fixed upload schedule. No promises. No pressure. And it feels much, much better. More sustainable.
So here's what will change/stay the same going forward:
You'll get my weekly letters on Fridays once again. 🥳 As well as essays and articles whenever I feel inspired to write them.
My "Favorite Things" will once again be baked into my weekly letters, instead of being a separate, monthly thing. (I consume way too much stuff for sharing it only once a month anyways...)
The podcast won't go anywhere. But I'll press pause on it for now. It was fun. But making videos is more fun. I've found that I'm a better talker in front of a camera than in front of a microphone for some reason. I'll keep making the same types of content over on my YouTube channel, and it pretty much doubles as a podcast anyways. Not much will change, other than the fact that you'll have the option of seeing me, or my art, while I talk. 😊
I might also experiment with re-publishing YouTube videos to Substack. It would let you watch them without ads or any of the other distractions on YouTube. Maybe in the future, I might publish extended cut versions of my videos here as well, as an extra perk.
Free subscribers will now receive everything new I publish, and they will have access to it for 30 days.
After that, it will go behind the paywall.
Premium subscribers have access to the entire archive, as well as the comment section, like before.
It's a much simpler model that lets free subscribers feel included in everything I do, while still giving premium subscribers a lot of extra value. Feels like a good balance to me.
If any if these changes make you regret supporting me with a paid subscription, I won't hold your money against your will. Just reach out to me and tell me the email address you've subscribed with, and I'll grant you a refund for the time remainder on your yearly subscription. No questions asked, no hard feelings. 😊
I look forward to getting back to writing to you this way. And to making videos, making art, writing novels (hopefully), and taking you with me on the journey.
I’m so grateful for your attention and support.
With love,
Some favorite things lately:
This essay, by Laura Preston, about her experiences working as an "A.I. chatbot impersonator". Just read it, it's pure gold.
"Months of impersonating Brenda had depleted my emotional resources. I no longer delighted in those rambling, uninhibited messages, full of voice and human tragedy. All I wanted was to glide through my shifts in a stupor. It occurred to me that I wasn’t really training Brenda to think like a human, Brenda was training me to think like a bot, and perhaps that had been the point all along."
My Dark Vanessa, by Kate Elizabeth Russell. This book held me in a death grip until the very end. If I could give it a million stars, I would.
Black Box. A podcast series from The Guardian, about AI. Insightful, and both hopeful and scary at times.
Beyond the Wand, by Tom Felton. Y’know, the guy who played Draco Malfoy in the Harry Potter movies? Turns out, Tom is also an excellent writer, and this book was almost impossible to put down. Hilarious, emotional, and full of juicy behind-the-scenes stories.
I was sulking around the other day, lamenting my future on this planet, and my husband shared this clip with me:
What a refreshingly rational, down-to-earth guy. I'm officially a Thor fan.
The Airbnb-ification of the arts, by the Stay Grounded Substack:
"I’m sure if Airbnb had a magical 3D printer that could faithfully reproduce everyone’s own bedroom anywhere in the world, most consumers would choose that over a more “authentic experience” too. For now we get “2010 coffee shop” because it’s a much safer investment for people running an Airbnb, similarly to how producing a thousand low-cost TikToks and hoping one goes viral is a safer investment than writing a novel, producing a movie, or making a TV pilot."
Current jigsaw puzzle music: Leprous. The man can sing. Just sayin'. He’s Christine and the Phantom.