I'm having coffee in an alien mug. (read: Ikea)
At a stranger's table. Watching an unfamiliar view. Trying to decide who I want to be today.
Am I a woman who tinfoils her already-scorched skin on the beach, to get a nice juicy roast? Am I someone who loses herself to the Gothic Quarter?
Probably number two.
But as I sit in my borrowed chair with my unfamiliar mug, I'm allowed a reset. A do-over. I get to reassess the thought patterns that are keeping me down, and this time it concerns you.
Taking advantage of this little breather before the day gets rolling, I went onto Medium to try and peddle one of a trove of stories and poems. Writing on Medium used to be a lot of fun. I had the most fun writing this. And this. Luckily, I wrote them before I had a chance to make money on the platform, else they might've never got written.
As soon as you learn the rules of this Internet money, that's the moment you lose your artistic innocence. I remember conversations with one of the guys publishing my stuff, after I'd started getting paid. Reconsidering my words, something I never used to.
Do I really want to say "nipple" here when it goes against community rules? It didn't mean my post would get banned or anything. It ended up being a terrific write-up even without nipples. Keeping the nip just meant I'd lose the chance for it to get boosted, which is the only way to make real money on Medium.
Gradually, I started making little tweaks. Taking out small obscenities and profanities that, while not strictly necessary, lent my writing a certain flavor. Reading back on latter posts, I still sound like myself. Only less.
So going on Medium now to pick a story to send out into the world, I stumble on a dark horse. Or perhaps just a black sheep.
It's a story I wrote recently, with no publication thought in mind. It just flowed. Sometimes, words just start forming inside my head, and I gotta sit down and write them or lose them forever. It's not a clean story. It's not a particularly nice story.
Yet, at second read, it's better than what I've written in months.
Dare say it's better than the strictly-for-publication stuff I've got lined up. Because it doesn't play by the rules. Because it speaks all them dirty words we're supposed to hide under our beds. Because it's best read by night.
Now I'm thinking what to do with it. My aline coffee and simple chair allow me to revisit my writing perspective with new eyes. It's so easy falling into money-making patterns, even if it's invisibile money like on here. And once you learn how to rig the game, the temptation is endless.
It's not hard, rigging the game. And by that, I mean on Hive. And Medium. But I gotta keep it personal somehow, right? It's easy enough that, if you pay a little attention, you learn what kind of topics are likelier to get good payouts. What aren't. What curators care about, what communities are more promising (to you, in terms of making the mullah).
It's easy to lose your soul and forget it's all make-believe. I think what saved me with Hive was the long period when it didn't mean dirt. It was just imaginary money, after that spike in 2017 (?). Or 2016. I don't remember I had growing up to do. But that, whenever that was, was followed by years of not even opening the markets.
It meant I could hone a style and write for the heck of it. It means that even though I could, presumably, rig the game in my favor, I have no interest or inclination to. Because it becomes joyless. Like my little Medium journey, it loses that certain patois that marks it as hailing specifically from my soul essence and not anyone else's. And I can't be having that.
The moment you start thinking of it as real money you stand to lose, you lose the creative freedom and that's too pricey for me.
I've decided to publish my Medium story, though have yet to decide where. Whether on my own blog, or if I'll try to shelter it inside some alt community somewhere.
It'd be much easier to scrap it if it wasn't written so good. But then again, who's making up these bullshit rules, anyway? And why should my fucking be any more vile and repulsive than other people blatantly trying to rig the system in their favor?
Life's too short to take the nipples outta your writing.
Ugh, I really feel what you're saying here. I look back at some of my old writing and see that some of my best stuff was written during times of fairly intense struggle, mostly when I was younger. I was so much hungrier back then and think I put more effort into it. During those years I was juggling a full time job, still writing sometimes six hours a day, and reading tons. Thinking about it now makes my head spin. I also just didn't give a f*ck because I automatically assumed what I was writing would likely never get published anyway. I'm just not nearly as hungry at 53 as I was in my 20's, 30's, 40's and my brain isn't as sharp either, I can tell. Good pieces take longer to craft.
Anything that interrupts our flow, makes us second guess our words, or if we're purposely writing for a certain audience it takes away from that special essence that makes our writing unique. The great thing is we can write different things for different purposes. We can write for an audience but still have a separate outlet or platform for the edgier stuff where we use no filters.
As you've said here, I think to a certain extent once money enters the equation writing instantly becomes formulaic to some degree. At a certain point you also start thinking more about your "brand", legacy, and reputation then the writing becomes more stale even still.
Enjoy this time of your life as much as you can and make the most of your youth. It's when we're truly living that we're inspired to write the great stuff. You're going to go on to do some wonderful things.
It's a good trick. Be even smarter if we found a way to maintain that impression even if we knew otherwise. The second I know I'm writing for someone, I start to make it sound a certain way. I say I've written certain pieces for so-and-so, and I have. It's what I think that person would want to hear, not what I'd want to say. Awful.
Hive's certainly a godsend, in that regard.
I was going to ask why you think the writing changes, whether it's just aging or something more. Legacy. That's an interesting thought. I would've guessed the contrary (being more afraid to be edgy when you're younger for fear of judgment, which seems to thankfully fade as you go)...
<3 thank you, my friend.
I think the trick is to just write for you no matter what but then you have to be open to more rejections from those you're trying to sell your work to. Rick Rubin's book The Creative Act has been a good reminder of how sacred creating just for myself is. We just have to repeat it like a mantra so it "sticks".
Hive has been a Godsend for creativity! I, honestly, don't know what I would have done without it these past eight years.
I think the hunger just dissipates as you get older, you get more comfortable in so many ways (spiritually, psychologically, financially).
You're welcome! I hope you enjoy the rest of the week.
I keep hearing about him, but have yet to check him out. Thank you for the recommend <3
I remember when the Internet was supposed to be the Wild West*. Anonymous, un-censorable, no-holds-barred free expression. Of course, no one had figured out how to make money from it back then. (Except for the pornographers, I suppose.) It was mostly just a hobby for foul-mouth geeks with the patience to deal with 56k dial-up modems.
Funny how the promise of a little money has us all rushing to censor ourselves. No government needed.
I don't know how the Medium boosting algorithm works, but of course I'm partial to nipples. I've never had the occasion to meaningfully quote 4chan before, but here goes:
TITS OR GTFO.
* (Now I'm curious. What does "Wild West" mean to someone from Eastern Europe?)
God, I wish I'd seen that. It feels a lot more appealing than what it is now, this place being the exception that proves the rule.
Guess we still buy into the illusion that maybe just maybe we can turn it into a whole lotta money.
Words to type by. Apparently.
Wild West, much like the American dream, is a distant concept of lots of sand and lawlessness. The whole cowboy thing never really caught on here, though. I remember being introduced to the ethos (rather than the gunslinger stereotype of old movies) through music. That idea of kicking ass and taking names, it felt novel. I loved the idea, though for me, the Wild West connection is purely intellectual. You coulda told me astronauts lived like that, and I'd think it's an astronaut ethos instead. Make any sense?
It does make sense, thanks; that's what I was wondering. "Wild West" is such an American thing, really just a few generations back in our very short history. There's this idea of a fresh start that happened so recently we can imagine doing it again. I wonder if there can even be an equivalent feeling in a place with thousands of years of history.
There's a lot of reasons to agree with this train of thought. For the longest time I made no withdrawal at all on Hive. I don't know if my onboard skipped it but for nearly five months, I didn't know you could withdraw actual money. It did make writing a lot easier. I had no expectations. Just ease of mind and hopes that I'll get genuine comments.
Now, I have to second guess my writing too. What's appropriate and what's not. What could get curated and what won't. It's tasking and does take out the zing of the experience. But with all of that, I still find ways to maintain me. Who I am with all honesty. And then some.
This is a quote I'm sure to use one day.😄
Ahhh
Me i withdrew after my first payout ooo😭😭😂😂😂
Man didn't come here to play😭😂😂😂
Although I am normally free on my writing and I do understand how thinking towards the do's and the don'ts can make one feel lethargic in writing.
Best to stick to the solid MAYBEs and see how much the piece can get ya ✨😂!!
You sure do. It's no easy task. So keep doing whatever you're doing that keeps you you. :)