Your Art Looks Better When It's Naked
Tuesday, December 21st 2010
Raw, unadulterated, unfiltered. Maybe even when it's done and it's true-to-yourself, it's crap, but it's your crap, and if you don't write it/sing it/paint it, the world will never have it. I'm not in the business of telling stories that end the way people want or that create a reality people wish there really was. I'm in the business of telling truths. The truth that makes sense to me, that screams to get out of my head, and that I hope (always after) that people will resonate with. Truths that begin as mine and mine alone and hopefully end with a group of people nodding their heads. Hopefully. But that doesn't mean there will ever be any head-nodding at your doorstep.
I liken it to the age-old criticism about the writer who takes her $2,000 Mac to Starbucks to create the "next great American novel." It just so happens that I wrote "The Identity," which I consider to be a pretty good piece of short, clever prose, on a ten-pound Dell.
Go figure.
Artists are in not in the business of saving people's lives, but that's why art does. More and more I believe that when you create something real, people will find it, people will love and it will all make sense. You can dress it up all you want, but distractions are simply that: distractions. And they'll pass, taking your audience with it. People can tell when you're selling them a bridge, and more than ever these days, people aren't buying.
Stop hiding it. Your work is beautiful.
And it looks even better without the distractions.
Dare To Be Different
Friday, December 3rd 2010
They say that if you "want to be famous or successful, you do what the famous or successful do."
I don't know what your goals are, but I don't want to be a member of an old boys' club or 'authortarian' (group of authors who will always have a bestseller despite the crap they put out, kinda like how Battle Studies sucked but everyone loves John Mayer's body of work, so he has to be nominated for a Grammy) monopolies and critical darlings. There are some things that I have set out to accomplish, in my own way and on my terms. I like to call them "personal goals." Surely, those things will take longer than the established networking or ass-kissing way, but hey, who's counting.
Before there was established, there was disestablished.
Before there was normal, there was unusual... Even crazy.
There are things that are important to me, and because of that, I adhere to--and believe in--that standard. They are few and far between, but I have them; I still trust the New Yorker, I still buy everything Chuck Palahniuk makes, I still think the publishing industry isn't dead, just sickly and not ready to start homeopathic remedies quite yet. It doesn't matter if people get it now. If it's authentic and you're doing it for the right reasons, people will find you and love you for it. Or love it for you.
There are one million ways to get to your dream, you just have to think big enough.
And be willing to try--and fail--one million times.
The Road to Awe
Monday, November 15th 2010
One of the reasons why I do this (obviously, I keep finding reasons) is because I want to inspire people. Not necessarily to quit their comfy office jobs and start putting writing online and giving it away for free like I did last April, but to find an outlet they enjoy and commit to sharing it with someone. One of the other reasons, though, is to write things that create awe.
Sure, that's a lot of pressure to put on yourself, but what writer do you know that doesn't put pressure on themselves?
The fact is that instead of putting a monetary or sales goal on my creation, I set a less tangible, and less attainable goal for myself: Inspire people and create wonder. Create things that make people think long after they've shut their PCs or phones off. Create things that make people want to join your clique.
The best part of setting an intangible goal is that you'll always keep trying to meet it. You'll never grow bored of it, or give up on it. If you succeed and you see or hear some sort of praise or benefit, you'll know there's always more to do.
This is one thought I've had over the last year about the theory of "stopping to smell the roses." If you're walking through one section of life, that only has roses and that's when you have to stop, why not try to figure out how to plant roses everywhere in your life so you never have to stop?
Art is my bed of roses. What's yours? And where is your "road to awe"?
Build Your Own Roads
Thursday, September 30th 2010
When I set out to start this site, I really didn't have much of a clue what I was doing, who my audience was, what the end goal was, or what the precedents were. All I knew was that my 9-5 lifestyle, a.k.a. the conventional, was killing me. It was clearly not what I was meant to do with my life.
It's not a particularly hopeful tale and it probably won't get me on 20/20, but that was the inception of my drastic lifestyle change: the idea that 'what I'm doing now isn't working.'
I had my heroes in mind; artists who did things on their own terms, when I sought to establish myself and my writing. They are still in my mind when I do things, as I quietly hope that I'm on the right path. Heroes are people we admire who we respect greatly, but we could never mimic their success. Why? Simply because that road, 'their road' is worn and traveled upon frequently by millions trying to be just like them. Yes, it's epic and great to strive for, but that isn't my story or my life. Looking back, I thought, even if my writing ever did reach an audience past my circle of friends and confidants, even if I did achieve a cult-like, pseudo-celebrity following, I would still have to learn it all on the way. No matter how this goes, we have to build our own roads... And whether it leads off of a cliff or into a glorious sunset is 75% talent, 15% luck and 10% timing.
So with this, comes the idea of building. Not all artists are entrepreneurs or vice-versa. What does that word mean to you? Build. For me, it's accepting that you can't stay where you are, and that all of your goals are attainable, but only if you're willing to put a hard hat on and knock down a few walls to get to them.
I think there's a fear of building something, because of all the energy it requires and because we really don't know how, as artists, to do things simply for ourselves. Writing a story for you isn't a viable excuse for anything. We need someone to see, find, live inside of our creation. So if we build it, and they don't come, then what?
This ties into fear of the unknown... Going into a dark tunnel and not knowing what's on the other side. How do you beat it? The best example I can give is a personal one: I don't know how to drive. A large part of it comes with living in New York City my entire life, and having a hot temper already... But the other part of it was the fear of the freedom. The possibility that one day I might just take off and never look back. I knew myself well enough to know it would be something I might consider; it's just too much freedom for someone like me.
Fear of building something; making work people don't identify with, I get that. It's another scary element of what we do. But our audience doesn't stagnate and neither should we. Look around you, see the world. See what new tools you have to work with. You might be surprised at how little there is to fear, after all.
Build a bridge, so we can all come over one day and see the awesome you created, for yourself.
Getting Lost in the Shuffle
Thursday, September 30th 2010
Often times, I find myself lost in the shuffle of my own projects, my own plans and my own imagination.
In my head, there's an amazing, expansive space where anything is possible. It's incredibly positive recently, and a lot of fun to create in that environment. It isn't like this all the time, but working/writing daily actually does make it easier to recognize and embrace your "good" days. On a "good" day in my head, if there's a wall I can't get around or climb over, I grab a conveniently placed sledgehammer and take it down. If there's a place I can't see, I simply move the camera and create that perfect setting. I want to encourage all of us to do bring that attitude with us when we're creating in the real world.
Don't get me wrong, the real world is a scary place. Words are scary, and so are impediments. We would rather pass the door that doesn't present a clear indication of what's behind it, than walk through it. Art is a risky business, as is exposing your vulnerabilities, especially to critics. Creating anything is a challenge, despite your natural talents and especially despite yourself. Most of our resistance to the unknown is our mind playing tricks on us. As artists, we're really good at psyching ourselves out and judging ourselves. I'd like us to harness that energy in a more useful way... For example, if we could imagine that we're prepared for the unknown, and that no matter what happened we would have the perfect tool or solution to resolve it, I think a lot of our problems would be solved relatively quickly.
I've spoken to a lot of people who are working hard, "grinding," to get their work noticed, and they don't stop. No matter what the cost. They do whatever they have to, and they realize that there is hard work involved with getting what you truly want in this life... Even something as small as peace and quiet. That comes from a real dedication to solving and fixing problems, and that no one is going to do it for you.
So the next time you find yourself lost in the shuffle of your goals and plans, remember to bring your tools and solutions out of your head with you when you come out.
The Bigger Picture
Tuesday, September 14th 2010
Over the last year, something beautiful and magical has happened as a direct result of this site and all of you who have followed me on this journey. What began as merely an outlet for my own inefficiencies as a writer and artist (and developed into perhaps a guide for others experiencing the same problems), has taken on such a bigger place in my life than I could have ever anticipated.
I can readily admit that my motives for this site were relatively selfish. I thought that I could use it as a tangible platform for my work, a motivator for me to finish projects and a bridge for connecting me with other creatives. But then I started meeting people, introducing people to the site and getting real, honest feedback on this place and my work. For once, I cared what people though and I wanted to make it better. I now understand what Pressfield discussed in "The War of Art":
Yes, we are put on this world to speak to people and to create something that wasn't there before, but there's a bigger picture than even that.
I realize now that through my work, I'm helping people find their voices. Not to be self-important or assume that I've empowered this slew of individuals, but I have read the emails and I know that something about this site, and other artistic endeavors I pursue because of this site, are causing positive change. Adults are seeing that dreaming and pursuing passions don't have to end. You don't have to lose that voice. I'm not talking about the mousey voice that said "I want to be an astronaut" in 2nd grade, although that's a part of us too. I'm talking about the adult dreamer who wants to quit their job and buy a food truck and cook around New York City. Maybe it is an aspiration to drive a food truck and cook using organic ingredients and your grandma's secret recipes.
Whatever your art may be, I know it's bigger than me.
It's bigger than you.
A Solemn Oath
Monday, August 16th 2010
If you've ever heard me talk about the artist-audience relationship, I've spoken about the "unspoken agreement." I feel that artists are supposed to make work that resonates with people, that give them their monies worth, that keep them coming back. In exchange, the audience will be here and support you, by buying and sharing your work, coming to your signings, etc.
This commitment is one I've adhered to as long as I've written things that other people have seen. I take it extremely serious, and it prompted me to write this today...
"I, Kristina Villarini, solemnly swear to create art that is both meaningful and interesting, that challenges my imagination and the reader's. I commit to you, my audience, that I will always write, on good days or bad, and I will always reply to your mail, no matter where I am or what happens. I pledge to always give you the 'real' me, and to always make affordable or free work. I pledge my allegiance to your eyes and minds, and I'll be here as long as I can."
It's an oath worth taking.
Breaking the Blocks
Sunday, August 8th 2010
Sometimes you can't defeat the resistance that keeps you from accomplishing or creating... Sometimes it takes a wrecking crew. I have been fortunate enough to have some people, friends and even, fans, who help me break down those pesky writer's blocks even when they don't know they are.
This was sent to me from Nick M., one of the first people to send me supportive "fan-mail," and someone I wish I had more time to communicate with:
From a Russian poetess
Tsvetaeva: For my poems, written so early...
"Am I a bullfinch,
To sing
Day in and day out?"
- "Even if you can't,
My bird, sing!
Out of spite!"
"What if I can't
put two lines together?"
-"When could - anyone?!" -
"It's torture!" - "Bear it!"
"A mown meadow -
My throat!" "Then wheeze:
That's a sound, too!"
"So, even in the grave?"
- "Under a headstone, too."
"I can't sing!"
- "Sing about that!"
Don't Give Up
Tuesday, July 20th 2010
I'm still trying to figure out why I was given this curse and why I answered the call to do this.
Why did I give up on the "sure thing?" I had a decent salary, a respectable occupation for private-sector company to name drop and get reactions like: "Oh, nice!" from strangers at bars and dinners amongst friends. I had it all, one would suspect...
But I wasn't happy.
It's clear to me that I would never would have been happy with that life. It's not the "artist's life," and not one I'd be proud of, looking back at age 70, wondering what I spent my meaningful time doing. Some people aren't particularly creative. Some people crunch numbers or love food. For some people, critical thinking is their art. For some, going to med school is the dream.
Some people read. (I do that, too!)
But I write.
I am a writer. That is the largest piece of who I am and it is the reason behind every decision I've made over the last year, and perhaps unknowingly, throughout my existence. It was around a year ago that I realized there was something inside of me that needed to get out, and I needed to do whatever I could for that to happen. I started this website in an effort to answer that call and, for once in my life, not give up on something.
If I created this website for recognition or fame, I would have failed a long time ago. If I listened to anyone else who didn't "get it" when I tried to explain what I was hoping to create here, I wouldn't have started this. But since I didn't have illusions of grandeur and I didn't care what anyone else thought, I received so much more in return: the opportunity to speak to people I would have never met/known in my lifetime, the chance to talk about important art and media with other "creatives," and above all else, I kept writing.
I don't have a very clear picture in my mind of what my life will be like in five years or ten years, but I know that if it has writing in it... I'll be okay. As of right now, the mere notion that I'm still here, writing, proves that even awful cliches like "don't give up" have a place.
So, don't give up, because while the pessimists, "realists," and haters one day will (because they'll have to), the artistic demon trying to get out of your head, won't.
Ever.
Business Cards, Ads (Again) and Being a Lighthouse
Tuesday, July 6th 2010
It's a well-known fact that my biggest problems in my art are: procrastinating and completing. While those two go hand in hand, the fact remains that they are vicious to overcome and it's a battle I will fight for the rest of my artistic life.
Every time I blog, or post a new piece of news, or update the Facebook fan page, I feel like I'm chipping away at the procrastination and completion issues that plagued me when I created this site. I knew that this would either be my one massive (depends on your definition of massive, I suppose) success, or my truest, most undeniable failure. I didn't take putting my name on this site laying down. It meant something, like a promise, or a bond.
For all of those reasons, and then some, I considered this site to be a lighthouse. It's not the biggest, and my lights are certainly not the brightest, but, I knew that certain kinds of people: the lost writer, the famed blogger, the scared artist, the confused poet, the failed marketer, the successful doctor, etc. would see my light in the distance and head toward it. I wasn't sure why, and I definitely had no reason to believe these people would actually find me, but they did. We found each other, and we connected, through words.
It's for this reason alone that I haven't created business cards or put up ads.
I can't put my name on a product. It isn't me. Ask me what I use at home and I'll send you the list of products I love, and the ones that scare me.
Business cards are something you draw pictures on the back of. Business cards are something you lose.
Light houses are what you go towards when you are lost.
There is a difference.
Not Having Customers
Tuesday, June 29th 2010
Some people say that having a relationship motivated by capital makes it equitable and stable: "You get what you pay for," and so on. The consumer has something to (threaten) the business with, and the business will provide the consumer with a product or service they need/want. So what is the relationship for those who are getting a service or a product, for free?
I'd like to believe that deciding to give away things I write isn't as stupid as people (still) say it is. In fact, I believe it's the most equitable of relationships there is, that of the artist-audience. I write something from the depths of my soul and you can choose to read it or not. If you do, you will give me your honest opinion about that or you will not. In either case, there is an authenticity to the interaction that I want to encourage, and it's something that is important to me.
Having an income is nice, and it's necessary. Maybe one day, due to this site, I will. I can't fathom it being at the expense of genuinely caring for people and sharing what I love (and one of the few things I'm good at). I am continually inspired to write because I am continually inspired by the technology around me that allows me to share with strangers, and the strangers who share with me.
That is the only relationship I can believe in and be proud of. It's not motivated by money or power, but by community and existence. I often wonder how well companies would do if they stopped looking at profit margins and started noticing people. How would that change our lives? When did people become customers?
I'd rather have one hundred people look at this site every day, than a million customers.
You can quote me on that.
Waiting for Your Rocket
Sunday, June 20th 2010
Talent can only get you so far in any industry, unfortunately. At some point you have to hand a business card to the right person, spend some money, re-brand, re-market or just blow the whole thing up and start from scratch. Sometimes the last part can be the hardest to admit, but the only option.
At what point do you "grab the bull by the horns" and why are there so many artists who can't or haven't? Well, there are quite a few reasons. There's laziness, there's ego and there's the "artronauts." No, that's not a typo. The artronauts are like the astronauts of the art world. You see, they're not astronauts in the sense that they've studied for their entire lives to launch into the great beyond and explore the unknown. The artronauts want to see this world and beyond, they want to share their experiences, they want the success and revelry, but they don't want to do the work. They just don't know how.
These folks want the groupies but don't want to learn to read music or practice an instrument.
If you're in this business, the art business, for a magical handshake that is going to change your life, you might be shaking a lot of hands in your lifetime. That's a lot of sanitizer for all the BS you're going to have to touch.
Build a rocket that you're proud of and that you know can fly. Then watch how many people start asking YOU for your card.
Every End Has a Beginning
Friday, June 4th 2010
If you haven't read the Garrison Keillor piece in the New York Times on the death of publishing, you're missing out. It's here for your viewing enjoyment: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/05/27/opinion/27iht-edkeillor.html
14 million authors? $1.75 annually? Eight of your true fans will be family members? This "future" sounds particularly bleak, but brutally honest.
Does it scare you?
Garrison hosts Minnesota Public Radio's A Prairie Home Companion, and is very familiar with writing. He's a humorist, satirist, musician, and most familiar to me, a writer, so he has some knowledge on how difficult the world of publishing is to navigate. Surely this can't be true, can it, and if it is, what does that mean for you and me?
I can't say I completely agree with Keillor, but I see his point. My take on the subject? Publishing isn't dead, it's evolving. Those who don't know what it's evolving into are having a difficult time, and they are second-guessing their decision making. I, for one, have always believed if you want to achieve success, you do what successful people are doing. With that said, I doubt the Meyers, Palahniuks, Gaimans, McCormacks and Turows of the world are losing sleep over Garrison's piece, so neither will I. Those guys will never be up at night sweating about the state of media.
There is no "good news" in his Op-Ed, and that's the great disconnect for me. To not see the unknown or the future after publishing as a positive environment for new artists, is not just unrealistic, but disconcerting. If publishing is dead, there will be a new world, and I for one, want to be the captain of the ship going there.
There are a lot of bloggers/writers out there, and not many are significant. Those that are, always will be and those that are not will find their audience and propel themselves forward. In the same way that the music industry has become consumer-driven and artists can now directly sustain themselves with an income, perhaps the next natural step is publishing. While the market may become over-saturated, the filtration will remain just as prevalent and powerful as we continue to receive only the data we want. People can recommend things in fifteen seconds using their phones and laptops and iPads and even in the big scary world without publishing companies, it can still be you. Or me.
If we are alive to watch the publishing model dinosaur perish, I hope it takes with it the predatory and dog-eat-dog ideologies.
If this is the end, I can't wait to plant my flag on the new world.
Bad Days
Wednesday, May 26th 2010
I haven't quite found the cure-all for the bad day yet.
Bad days are interesting because they can come, literally, from nowhere. I sometimes feel like my ability to have a bad day should be taught in school: it's of mythical proportions. I wake up and I have a migraine, my nose is stuffy, I got up too late/early and I have one thousand things to do which require me in five hundred places, and I NEED to get them all done, today (probably because I procrastinated for half of the week, but I digress).
Bad days are tough because they can ruin your plans, and change the complexion of your day. Even when you successfully accomplish your goals on a shitty day, usually the day still sucks.
Again, I haven't found the cure, but I know many dedicated and more disciplined people than I who also haven't found the cure, but like American medicine, have become comfortable with the suppression of the bad day.
Maybe the cure is in your routines, and maybe we all need to consider things we do more of a routine than they are. Running for an hour every day clears the head and allows time for focus. Maybe for someone else it's weightlifting. Maybe it's cooking or cleaning, or any sort of organizational task. A lot of people need to talk about things, dwell, before they can get over them. This, too, while tedious and often times counterproductive (as you still feel pretty low while you're discussing it), can help you finally release any tension or discomfort within your day. Everyone has their way, and there is no such thing as the wrong way.
For the artist, a lot of times there aren't any other options when we're having a wretched day. We either work or we don't. And not working is not an option. So, we work angrily, and that is better than putting it off until the next day. Your "real work" (art) has to become a part of your daily routine. The same way brushing your teeth, applying lip balm and drinking water when you're thirsty is automatic. If there's anything you could ever take from my random musings, it's the importance of putting your art and your creativity first and allowing the rest to happen, no matter how eternally fucked the world is around you.
I'm not creating the next Great American Masterpiece every day. Especially on my bad days.
But maybe tomorrow I will... And tomorrow has a real shot at being better.
Being Fearless
Saturday, May 15th 2010
There are a lot of reasons to be scared of creating art:
Your critics might hate your work, your audience might not like or "get it," and your friends may be jealous that you're pursuing your artistic dreams.
There are a lot of reasons to be scared of creating art, but none of them should be good enough to stop you.
Listen, I get it. Your fear, your resistance, your lack of guidance is a scary thing. It's easy to quit in the face of that adversity. After all, they're only your dreams... Who cares if you decide not to follow through with them? You don't have anyone to answer to but yourself, and you've this long without creating, right?
Rejection can be crushing.
Especially from people you love and respect.
So to you, sensible soul, I say this: Have you ever had a feeling, a dream, a recurring thought that you couldn't shake? That's what creation is. A voice you can't quiet, a hunger you can't satisfy. Creation doesn't die when your body does. It lives forever.
It surpasses the critics, the broken relationships, the strained friendships, the exhausted resources. It exceeds expectations. It is bigger than our small sense of "reality."
Creation, a truly divine and intangible gift, is limitless. Why would you ever deny yourself the opportunity to be bigger than yourself, bigger than words?
Art is as close to heaven as some of us are ever going to get.
So ask yourself, who do you want to answer to, when your time is up? And more importantly, what do you want to leave behind?
Critics are never remembered for giving bad reviews.
How Do I Know I'm Supposed to Be an Artist?
Monday, May 3rd 2010
When you're finding ways to make art at your desk. When you wake up in the middle of the night with a lyric, a verse, a tune or a character in your head that's too real to be a dream. You're supposed to be an artist when you're fighting yourself to make time to make art. You're supposed to do this when you accept, fully, that there will be a struggle... And you like the idea of it.
I keep doing this, because, there's nothing else I can do well and consider it a real job (Legally).
I'm supposed to be an artist because it's the one thing I know I have to do every day when I get up. Writing is my life.
The battle isn't so much about winning or losing as it is to choose to stand and fight.
Artists win when they pick up their weapons (guitars, paintbrushes, chisels, clay, cameras, pens, etc.) and fight. Fight for what they believe in. Fight because the fight is still in you. Fight because what is in you is burning to come out. The burn to create and let something bigger than you materialize.
Stop resisting and arm yourself.
I've got too much fight in me left.
Be Your Own 'Karma Police'
Wednesday, April 27th 2010
Whatever work you do, throw yourself into it and do it because you believe in it. Nothing I have written since I began blogging can work, for you or me, if we don't believe in it. I have alluded to this in the past, but find the reasons why it is worth it for you to dive headfirst into your art--whatever that may be. I have not yet made any artistic decisions based on the possibilities of good karma swinging back around and rewarding me for my dedication and kindness. I understand that it's a giant world out there and some things, those especially, can take some time.
If you weren't so worried about how freelancing for someone else could benefit your projects, imagine how much more work you can be doing, and how much better it would all be?
Set your expectations of yourself as high as the bar can go and keep climbing on the furniture to get there.
Karma will find you.
What I Want to Represent
Friday, April 16th 2010
Inevitably, I have a lot of conversations about the site these days. I get a lot of questions about books, artists and what it feels like to be a "brand."
Hell if I know about what it means to be a "brand."
Branding is not my area of expertise. We're not making t-shirts and action figures (quite yet).
What I do know, is what I want the site to represent. I hope that people see that I love writing and that I love experiencing this life through a writer's eyes. What I want the site to say about me is: Kristina loves art and loves her readership. This site is the truest representation of everything I've always dreamed. I've always believed that the truth is the beacon by which people will be guided to you.
There is a small percentage of people who actually "make it." An even smaller number live up to the real-life expectations of their respective brand. I don't really think about that. Branding will never be the primary focus of an artist. We're all survivalists, and our sustenance is you.
If this site conveys half the passion for art I have in my body, I've done my job.
Becoming an Authority
Tuesday, April 6th 2010
When do you become an authority on a subject?
When you've graduated from a series of schools, which then hands you a piece of paper, to show others you know something?
Is it when the public consults you for your expertise, or when others do?
Having a blog doesn't make you an authority, and it hardly makes you a critic. It makes you a person with a voice, who has a unique need to speak to everyone or anyone who will listen. We need to share, to be noticed. Some people think that web traffic make them a guru. I'd say you had a good day.
Authority is rooted in power, and the power will always be in your eyes and ears to me.
I will never get "too big" for this.
I work for art. It is my boss.
Reasonable Doubt/Unreasonable Expectations
Thursday, April 1st 2010
My head is a tough place to be inside daily, let alone when I get into the "mode of creating." I've spoken before about how we are our own critics, idealizing our work and finding disappointment when we can't meet perfection.
In that "failure" we find hopelessness and doubt.
Doubt is a vicious thing.
It takes what we know to be true: a fact, for example, and creates the second-guessing effect. What about a talent or a passion; something arbitrary that we feel equally as strong about that cannot be proven by data or charts? Doubt is indiscriminate. It twists our plans inside of us, making them unrecognizable and worthless.
When doubt is an ingredient in the soufflé of creation, it will be the antithesis of light and delicious.
The strongest counter is to set realistic expectations, and be honest about what the expectations are. I'd love to blog once a day and complete all of the site redesigns I've talked about (and imagined in my head) by this summer, culminating with a huge East Coast Launch Party, but while writing for two websites, developing and writing my own content, responding to mail, meeting weekly for editorial meetings, proofreading and editing a full-length novel, working a full-time job and trying to have a social life - it seems almost impossible. I recognize that there are things I can do to stabilize my time, so that I will, one day have a blogging schedule, but as for right now I cannot.
What you can do is set small expectations that are feasible to accomplish and enjoy the feeling of a minor victory every so often when you do.
Above all else, if you're a pessimist like me and you must doubt at all, doubt that your competitors are doing things as well as you are. Doubt that you're in the wrong line of work. Doubt that people won't love what you're doing.
Art vs. Work
Thursday, March 25th 2010
Throughout the process of creating the website, I compartmentalized. I assured myself that because I have a job and my passions are "on the side," the margin for failure was minimal. I told myself I was making the right choices by working every day, even if it didn't get me any closer to my life-goals (my passions, which I was willing to put on the side). I told myself that as long as my job didn't keep me from pursuing those same passions, things would be alright.
I was living in a dream world, where your passion and your work can be different things, of equal importance. Such is not the case... At least, not for me.
I have spoken about monetizing the site in the past and why I think it's damaging. This is not the universal truth for everyone, but as I've continued this journey, I've realized how completely dependent on your own direction it is. I'm of the opinion that when you sell a product, you cease sharing it. Consumers claim ownership of products, and ownership of art has always been a weird end-goal to me. I see how elated people are when they can hang a piece of art in their living room, library or den. Perhaps it's inspirational or a sign of their achievement, but it still feels wrong. I know you're in for a tightrope walk, holding two sacks of potatoes, if you're trying to argue the lifespan of art with artists.
In my mind, art being exhibited and shared is life. Art being shelved, gathering dust, is death.
To further expound the idea: not being able to create and share art - which is my passion and most important to me - because I am doing work that is of primary importance to a company that employs me, cannot affect me in any positive ways. This has gone on for far too long.
It is a true and utter failure that the entrepreneurs in this world, the artists and those that "make it" are the anomalies. They're the exceptions to the rules.
They should be both the "norm" and the ideal.
Leave flattery to Corporate America
Friday, March 26th 2010
I 'coined' a phrase today: "Flattery is for sub-par people you don't want to offend, not for the beautiful ones you're lucky to have as friends." Feel free to tell the ones you trust. In any business, you're lucky when the people you admire are also people you can call a friend. While you don't need support to write a book and get it published or run a website, it sure helps to have someone around.
Leave the butt-kissing to boardrooms and drinks on company cards. Keep the truth with you always.
Finding Your Reason to Do This
Friday, March 5th 2010
If you're going the route of rogue writer or blogger that may or may not ever be published in the "real world" sense, you may find yourself at quite a few roadblocks throughout your career. Most of those blocks will be yourself. Somewhere between your first and one hundredth rejection letter, you?ll start to get discouraged. You'll wonder why you ever decided to do this in the first place.
At one time, this was fun; a creative outlet. Now you're trying to make it a job. You don't want your art to be a job! And why would anyone want what YOU have to offer anyway?
These negative thoughts are so quick and familiar that before we ever think to be more positive or even stop them, we've already began to doubt ourselves. After all, it's what we're trained to think. Outside of the box thinkers are usually erratic. They don't work in the mold of corporate Americans. So, before you beat yourself up during the natural ebb and flow of art, ask yourself why you're doing this, and make sure you're ready to hear the answer.
You knew the potentiality for riches and fame was low when you answered the call to be an artist, and here you are, wishing you never did. What we come to forget is that the call came from the most honest place inside of ourselves, and to deny it would be a huge mistake.
Find your reason to do this, and make it a good one.
It's the weapon you'll be using for the rest of your life to combat your self-doubt.
What is Art?
Monday, March 1st 2010
Tolstoy said that art must create an emotional link between artist and audience, one that 'infects' the viewer.
There's an unspoken arrangement in the exchange, I think, where people don't have to say "thanks" for reading this site, this blog, or my stories. The "thanks" is in the trip here, the four or five minute average when people click around to try and figure out what I'm about. The "thanks" is in the referral to friends to "check out this site by this writer I know." It's always nice if someone says something, but no one has to participate at all to make this exchange work.
The onus is on me, as the artist, to communicate clearly and effectively. My art must tell the reader who I am, why I am here and why you should care at all.
Is it art if there's no audience?
I don't believe that there can be art without an audience, but I also don't believe you should make art for an audience. Luckily, we live in a time when there are not as many filters for the audience/artist relationship anymore. Technology has removed the barrier, and now people must seek out the critic as well as the artist. While it's not art unless someone appreciates it, marvels at it, etc. artists should not concern themselves with who will be there to find it. Never forget that there is no more important responsibility than to create good art.
The Casualty of Writing
Saturday, January 16th 2010
I'm a writer.
At heart, underneath it all, I can say whatever I want, but this is the only constant in my life. Women have come and gone. Money, apartments, vacations; they've come and went. Writing is always here. It's like those love/hate commercials by New Balance for runners: Nobody REALLY understands running except runners. No one understands writing except writers.
Yeah, I keep a 'Corporate American' gig, but I incorporate my love for writing in my occupation.
I am a writer.
The challenge of being a writer, especially a decent one, is that while you feel a small ounce of success just typing something... The complete victory is supposedly only when you have something to show to people who are NOT writers.
The New York Times Bestseller List.
A Pulitzer.
Rolling Stone asked Jack White (The White Stripes, The Raconteurs) to describe what it feels like to be in the middle of a heated guitar solo on stage and he replied: "It's like trying to describe the pyramids to someone who has never seen them before." That's where you end up when you're a writer, and someone is asking you: "Why aren't you published?" It's something you can't ever explain, because you created something. I put something into the world that wasn't there when I got here. In a world of phonies, I made something real.
We have the opportunity to leave an indelible mark on every person who ever reads any piece by us, good or bad. We change the world and very few of us will achieve the success of a Tolkien or a Rowling, it is our words that immortalize us. Do I need that life, or is writing enough?
I have a dream of being on the subway, listening to my iPod or goofing off with friends, when I catch someone reading a book I published. In that dream, I get up, rip it out of their hands, sign it, give it back to them and hop off the train like a bandit. In this dream, I do it to every reader I find (they're not many). The point is, that is my idea of not being a casualty of writing. Silly and juvenile, but my dream and mine alone. Is that true success or egotism? Maybe it's just craziness.
Being crazy is synonymous with being a writer anyway.
Credibility and Hype
Tuesday, January 12th 2010
When you announce to people that you're an artist: a writer, poet, aspiring filmmaker, musician? People either nod along sheepishly, feigning interest or act unbelievably impressed while thinking, "Cool, but what's your REAL job?"
Pursuing your "artistic anything" seems very much like a solo endeavor when you're starting out, and for most of us it will unfortunately remain that way. I suppose that is why we're so highly critical of ourselves, striving evermore to be the best so that we can catch our big break. For the purpose of this blog, however, I'm going to center on the opposite. I'm writing about buying into your own hype, whether you have any significant buzz or not.
I understand the importance of being confident. I also identify with the feeling of wanting to give up. The battle of "the unsigned artist vs. the world" that haven't discovered them lives on through this website. However, I fear what happens once artists stop aspiring to be the best and start believing they are. Our natural instinct to dream, hunt and survive drive us. Talking makes us feel good, it makes us look good, but while we're talking, we're usually waiting for our big break. A large part of the craft is the constant scratching and clawing. Yelling at the top of our lungs! The need to be heard. The need to announce: "I am alive. I am here."
Artistic credibility is the validation of your work. It's your Grammy, your SAG, your Oscar. It's also the acceptance that you may not ever get one. Set your goal, and stick to it. Figure out what it means to make it, and scratch and claw until you do that. Don't sell yourself short. Go out and write your New York Times Bestseller.
Even if no one ever reads it.
Dating Your Audience
Thursday, December 24th 2009
People don't realize how difficult artists have it.
We have to create something that is "true" to us, but we have to (or should) make it readily available to people we've never met before. Of course, no one creates art to be commercially viable, as the myth goes, but if people didn't pay for it, everyone would be good at it. There'd be no value in art. Warhol wouldn't be Warhol and Poe would be one more depression statistic.
When you begin writing for your audience, you're removing the ability to provide an escape, which is what art does. When you let what the audience wants influence your writing, you're certainly not being "true" to yourself or the characters you've created. However, if you are "true" to your vision, there is a very high probability that no one will understand exactly what you're trying to do and it will never be seen or heard. Thus, your vision will die.
This is why you "date" your audience. You set the tone of the relationship early on by being the dominant personality. You're deciding when you're going out to dinner and where. The relationship provides a feigned exclusivity and you will always give enough to keep them interested. Surprise them with nice gifts (your work), call upon them to be an active participant (solicit feedback) and don't talk too much about anyone else (other fans or admirers). If your plan is to steal the audience from your competition, than be prepared to do everything that other team is doing longer, faster and better.
Much like a real relationship, there may be a time when one of the parties is ready to go in another direction. Let that happen. There may also be a time when your relationship becomes "serious", and a bond is formed. It's important to realize that a loyal customer, reader or solicitor doesn't necessarily have to be the loudest person, or the most extreme. It's just the person that values and appreciates the relationship most.
Everyone has an opinion on how you gain an audience but usually it sounds something like: you can buy their attention (ads) or just buy them (swag).
Unfortunately, those types of "razzle dazzle" don't accomplish much, at least not for very long. If you want to see results, be honest and present things of value to your audience.
And if you can't guess, that advice isn't just about art.
Create. Contort. Repeat.
Thursday, December 3rd 2009
As writers, creating is the easy part. Well, its easier than the other functions we incorporate in our daily lives. At least, writing comes naturally.
Or does it?
At some point, the "little voice" we have ignored our whole lives - the one who told us we were failures and that our stories were uninteresting slop - starts to dictate how we write.
We stop doing what is organic and start chaperoning ourselves. Once we start being "artists under circumstances," the art will almost always suffer.
Artists have real problems with boundaries, even those we set for ourselves. This will certainly cause a direct conflict. The rational and the illogical will engage in a violent stand-off. What writers tend to forget is the beauty of the inexplicable and the unpredictability of existence is one the most basic commonalities humans share.
Sometimes things are not clear to us and sometimes we are too invested in the outcome to see what is best. Example: maybe you should let your spineless antagonist join that Spanish monastery, after all?
Like real life, the imagined world doesn't always make sense. It's our job to understand that, and respond accordingly.
The Hate/Hate Relationship
Friday, November 20th 2009
My relationship with writing is a lot like the one I possess with a large percentage of my exes: they hate me, and probably themselves for spending as much time with me as they did.
When I'm writing, I realize that most people won't get the zany pop culture references, the backhanded shots at American institutions, or the fact that almost all of my stories, in even the subtlest of ways, is based on my hypercritical opinion of myself.
But that's not what I hate about writing.
What I hate about writing is that I can always be better. There's no realistic measurement of success. Want to be a New York Times Best-Seller? Well, there's always the James Frey approach. Where's the honest gauge? I'm telling you that the gauge is broken, because it's actually not in the competitive sense of units sold, or in my ability to buy a boat, but in the commitment to creating something real. Real lasts, awards don't... And there's always a new list next month.
In writing, you can always dig deeper, be exceptionally descriptive, create a more identifiable environment, etc. There's never a pinnacle, and if there is, there will always be another.
So, I suppose this is the part of the blog where I tell you how I get around this, and why I keep writing despite the very abusive relationship between us?
Muhammad Ali.
"The Greatest" himself is the answer. I'm not sure how many people believed him when he said he was "the greatest" but if I was another boxer I would have been pissed. Not necessarily because I believed him, but because I didn't have the balls to say it first. Ali BELIEVED it. Sure, he had the talent to back up 99% of his claims, but he LIVED it before anyone else did.
If you're a no-talent hack espousing the virtues of your massive ballpoint size, I'm probably going to laugh your ink off the fucking page.
But if you're the greatest of our time and you're living and working like it, you're dangerous, and you're probably going to succeed. And while I hate you for thinking you're "better" than me, I hate writing more... For creating the monsters that we are today.
Audio Blog - Site Introduction