How (not) to start a Substack for creative expression
You start a substack because your inner artist wants to play and explore your ideas about creativity without always packaging your ideas for profit—
And then the part of your brain that knows how to market and sell something kicks on and you start wondering how to best position your post—
And each cursor blink tightens your throat—
And shouldn’t you have a content strategy?—
And what about The Algorithm!—
And your thoughts run out of breath—
And you inhale.
“Oh this is too perfect. As if the universe is conspiring with me.”
So you pick up the box to your left. Pull out the cards. Shuffle.
What do we need to know as we embark on this journey?
As you peek at your tarot spread, you can tell this will be timely. The cups are our emotions and the wands are our passions. And all in reverse signals disconnection.
Seven of Cups indicates your tendency to feel overwhelmed by options. The remedy: keep letting your excitement light the way.
Queen of Wands says you’re feeling less than confident. You want to shrink and stay small. The antidote: reconnect with your passions.
Nine of Wands reflects back you’re uneasy about moving forward after setbacks. Remember: setbacks are temporary.
You place the cards back in their box—it’s uncanny the way they know what you need—and you look up and ask the reader:
What are your go-to tools and practices when your logic overtakes your art?
The way I wrote and finished my book was to assign a set time each day (4:30 a.m.) where I would write undisturbed for as long as I needed. I listened to a single cellist (all of her work, looped) and only listened to her when I wrote. I immersed myself and set my worries aside, particularly my lack of confidence, hesitancy and self-critical nature. And I just moved forward.
I listen to my heart, find my courage to be vulnerable and write about the unexpected that comes when you share your art, versus the mundane and predictability of logic.