hello july

some notes on this newsletter, writing, creativity, culture, the internet, etc.

Dear friend—

It's been a hot second. I hope this missive finds you keeping cool and safe.

I'm been thinking a lot about this newsletter in relation to a bunch of other things on my mind, which I'll try to lay out here.

One. I’ve been thinking about content and hustle culture that the internet encourages. Everything we do, every talent we have, can become content; a way to accrue either social capital (i.e., clout), or income.

As someone who is chronically online, very engaged with all sorts of artists and creators on the internet, who has a similar skillset, I’ve felt a bit of internal pressure to try taking social media seriously as a platform for my creative work.

But delivering content to an audience, with the hope of building a greater audience, encourages a lot of limits. For example, successful creators usually have a niche. It’s helpful if your audience knows exactly what to expect from you, because it increases your chances that every post can be a banger.

To be honest, this idea of finding a niche and a personal brand has shaped my internal editorial decisions.

Sometimes, I have to remind myself that I don’t actually want to be a capital C Creator. If I think about it too much, the idea of too many strangers perceiving me scares the shit out of me.

And I don’t know if I could handle the pressure of turning something I love into something that pays the bills, in the off chance that I became one of the lucky few who reach that level.

I have to remind myself that when it comes to this newsletter, I’m just a girl who sometimes likes to share her writing with those I love and those who might appreciate it.

Two. Relatedly, there was a time when I posted absolutely everything. Every slip of fiction, every sketch, every song, I just wanted to share and share and share.

Sharing, at least for me, does introduce pressure, even if it’s just internal. In many cases, that can be a good thing, especially when it comes to writing.

As I’ve written before, the possibility of other eyes gives me an extra push to communicate more clearly and precisely, accessibly and empathetically. And I truly believe that shared writing can be an act of service.

However, the eyeballs come with downsides, too. When I’m creating with others in mind, I don’t take risks, make mistakes, or try new things. But it’s in making mistakes and trying new things that I learn more—and have more fun.

Three. At the same time, I’m trying to be more intentional about what I share and what I commit myself to; what parts of my life I want rigid and disciplined and public-facing and what want to be purely for me, for fun.

When I first started this newsletter, I wanted to stick to a publishing schedule. I thought it would be a good exercise in self-discipline, to write when I didn’t want to or to push myself to find new things to write about.

For those who do want to turn it into a career, or who want to challenge and cultivate themselves to become the best they can possible be, it makes sense to train yourself to write even when you aren’t feeling it.

But I’m coming to terms with the idea that I’m okay with being a casual writer; that I can turn to writing as a solace, rather than treat it as some arduous duty to myself.

Four. I nestle in my comfort zone maybe too much. I like to listen to ‘80s-inspired synth pop and jazz standards. I watch the same movies over and over again.

I’m coming to grips with the idea that there is an inherent conservatism in this. That nostalgia and security and tradition have historically been associated with conservatism, and can pull people toward politically conservative thinking (i.e. “Back in my day…”).

(Of course, things like nostalgia are often good and necessary. They also aren’t going to magically turn me into a card-carrying member of the NRA or something. But I’m trying to be more aware of the balance of these kinds of forces/dynamics in my life, and the subtle effects they might have.)

This reflects in my creative work, too. I draw the same things and get stuck in familiar patterns. Sketching something new literally feels like I’m breaking something (the mold?) in my brain, exercising muscles that have long lain dormant.

I also think my reluctance to try new things, craft-wise/artistically, has to do with the whole sharing-a-lot thing. I have long-focused too much on what I know I am already good at. Being good at something is my comfort zone.

But the result is, I feel like I’ve been faking creativity for the past 24 years. In all my “artsy-ness,” I just dig deeper grooves, not new ones.

I’m trying to change that in small ways. Draw the things I’m not used to drawing; read the genres I’m not used to reading; write new things without worrying about making it perfect or good or even letting it see the light of day.

Five. I don’t know what this all means for this newsletter specifically, just that I’ll be posting less frequently and with more variety.

But anyway, thanks for being curious and open to my writing, no matter what direction it takes; for entrusting me with your time and your brain space; and for being a generous reader. I can’t imagine a better gift.

Shout out to

krithiques

, a dear friend, bookstagrammer, and fellow substack-poster whose most recent newsletter installment reminded me that I have my own lol

Thanks for reading, take care, catch you soon,

—mia xx

Photo by yann behr on Unsplash