Why I’m Aggressively Championing Other Creators.
Like many creators out there, I’ve been following the SAG-AFTRA / WGA strikes with quite a keen eye.
Artists are the lifeblood of our society. Seems to me a reasonable demand that they be paid a decent wage. That they don’t have their jobs stripped by artificial intelligence. Anyway, thinking about that led to this.
Online Envy — Why do some people have 10k subs, while others have 10?
As an emerging online creator, I was riddled with this sort of venomous thinking. And I know I wasn’t the only one. I looked around at the stupid, empty, meaningless content that I considered inferior, and wanted to claw my eyes out. Why should this person get attention I rightly deserve?
I don’t know. Didn’t then, don’t now.
What I did notice, after a while, was that that mentality had turned into liquid poison inside my heart. And it was pouring into every single post. Every story. Every comment. All my interactions were based around gain.
So I interacted with the “big guys”, hoping I’d get noticed. Except obviously that didn’t work, ’cause people smell desperation.
When that didn’t happen for me, I got angry. Then sunk into frustration. Then into a long period of producing nothing.
I packed up my toys and I left the social-sphere.
Screw ’em. I don’t need ‘em.
…except we do. All creators do. It’s part of who we are. And I stayed in that bitter isolation for a long while. Until I had a shift in perspective.
In awe of our world.
So much of the content we’re fed is negative. Angry. Disruptive. Divisive. It took years before I felt ready to step away from all that. But once I did, my old peeves came unravelled.
Suddenly, I no longer saw social media as a competition, but as a tool. A way to surround myself with wonderful people, spreading messages that resonated with me and that helped me grow.
Big accounts, but also smaller, indie people that spoke my vibration. It was cool. Enlightening. Amazing.
Most importantly, it barred me from thinking in the old way. Once I started seeing the pool as full of inspiring fellow human beings (not competitors), my attitude changed, and with it, so did what I put out into the world.
Once I started appreciating the Internet as this tool to shine our light into the universe, and to connect with, and find our tribe, my world came wide open.
I’m awesome, but so are you.
I got to interacting with creators. Artists. Illustrators. Authors. Musicians. All these wonderful people who had the temerity to put their art out there for the world to see and judge.
That takes guts. It’s no picnic, baring this sensitive, vulnerable, soft part of yourself to the world.
It also takes insane commitment. It’s extremely rare for a creator to go viral with one post. Usually, it takes years of consistent creation and engagement to build a social platform worthwhile.
They are fu*king talented. Seriously. Like, when’s the last time you thought about that? Not in terms of “I write/draw/sing better” but “this human being has a wonderful tonality/gift/vision”?
For me, it had been way too fu*king long, but once I shifted in my seat, my view changed ~ suddenly, the people around me were brave, committed, talented people. And that’s a pretty awesome group to be welcomed into.
What it means to champion other creators:
I’ll tell you. But first, let me tell you what it doesn’t mean.
Championing other artists doesn’t make you any less of an artist.
Sharing someone’s art to your story won’t make your own art pale in comparison. We’re so afraid our meagre followers will see that, and go like that artist instead of us. Except maybe they, like me, will see how awesome it is to be alive right now. How many great, talented people there are. And how cool you are for engaging in a community larger than yourself.
Championing others won’t rob you of your own moment in the spotlight. If it’s gonna happen, it’s gonna happen because you’re good. Talented. Put in the hours. Dared to share your unique vision with the world. Jim, or Todd, or Harry, or whoever else you might champion ain’t got nothing to do with it.
How you support other creators is up to you. It doesn’t have to be a huge gesture. A share. A like. Consistently engaging with their posts. It’s taking a step back from your own ego when they’ve done something great, and sharing in their happiness.
Yes, if you can, support them financially as well. Often, you’ll find we’re all too willing to drop $5 for a coffee date with a girlfriend, but not to buy someone’s book, or support them on Patreon.
I used to reason in terms of ‘what does this person want of me’, e.g. how much money am I gonna be out of this time? I also used to come up with excuses. Oh, they’ve got plenty anyway. Oh, there’s other people supporting them. It’s not about that.
Now, the question I ask myself is much simpler. I just ask, is this the kind of light and energy I want to project into the world? Yes. The positive vibration of supporting and encouraging and helping another human being grow? Abso-fucking-lutely.
If there is one thing the current strikes in entertainment can teach us is, we’ve gotta stick together. Not just as creators, but as human beings. Because if we don’t, we’re really screwed, man.
Thank you for reading. Guess what. I am actually publishing my first novel this fall. Wild, I know. Meanwhile, I’m gonna be documenting my process/journey/slow descent into madness on here, while also dropping the occasional opinion piece.
So if you’re someone who enjoys that kinda writing, well, why not subscribe? It’s free. And I’m desperate. So there, honesty.
