Just because something is economically viable doesn’t mean you have to do it.
Over the last year, I diversified my authorship with several side ventures. I started a YouTube channel, launched a merchandise line, constructed a coaching program, expanded my seminar series, and submitted presentations to global conferences.
And then I abruptly killed them all. Why? Because I had broken my own rules.
Modern hustle culture demands that everything be monetized. You must package yourself as a brand and sell it to anyone who will listen. And if they don’t listen, then you must work yourself to the bone to convince them otherwise.
Do you enjoy whittling figurines in your garage? Not good enough. Create a company, launch a website, and start selling them online.
Do you enjoy blogging about your favorite topic? Not good enough. Develop a platform, launch a podcast, and start whoring yourself to sponsors.
It’s a relentless grind where the primary goal is to extract as much money as possible from a creative endeavor. Profit is great and all, but the problem is that a hustle mindset always leads to burnout (and a burdensome distaste for a thing you once loved).
Before my author career, I spent a decade in the music industry where I released four albums and toured the indie rock scene. It was a lot of fun and I loved being on stage, but somewhere along the way, that joy became a business. The thrill of performing slowly faded as the hustle took over my headspace. I was more concerned about the next interview than the next show. I was in the middle of recording a new album when I slammed into the wall of “What the hell am I doing?” I had no good answer, so I stopped and walked away.
Upon reflection years later, I knew exactly what happened. I stopped enjoying the art in favor of conquering the business. I spent more time in the grind than I did writing and performing. That was the death knell and I never set foot on stage again.
Cut to today, where I just slammed into the exact same wall. Using coaching as an example, I have spent years running a side business where I help new authors overcome the burdens of publishing. It was all word-of-mouth and I never had to advertise. I simply enjoyed the process while earning some low-stress income. And then the hustle said, “Let’s go pro!” I launched a program and started to advertise, which did nothing but attract other hustlers who wanted to partner up. “What the hell am I doing?” I asked myself again. I still didn’t have a good answer, so I dismantled the program.
And you know what’s truly infuriating? I already wrote about this dilemma. Twice!
If It’s Not Hell Yes, It’s No: Maintaining Focus and Productivity as an Author
Destress Your Writing Life: A Practical Guide
That was an embarrassing realization. I had broken my own rules and slipped back into the meat grinder. Yes, I am fortunate to have success. Yes, it’s nice to have economic viability. But no, I do not want to sacrifice contentment for a shot at becoming “that guy” on the internet. I’m not that guy. All I want to do is publish stories for fans of my works, then muse on my blog and send some newsletters. Everything else is noise.
It shouldn’t be weird to say that I want my author career to focus on the writing. I am happiest when I am typing through my thoughts, be it for a story or a post. Yeah, there’s some business stuff to handle, but it’s a necessary evil to maintain an enjoyable output. That is what a creative balance looks like, and I need to keep reminding myself of that fact.
As for the noise? I’m done. No more scope creep. And most importantly, no more breaking my own rules. I wrote them down for a reason and it’s time to live by them.
