Messages To Creatives: Choose Your Own Adventure

The world is full of messages.

You know what I mean. Do this. Don’t do that! You really need to buy this cool tooth whitener. Whatever. Everyone wants to tell you how to do something or another. And then there’s the “Have tos,” too. Or the “Shoulds.” As in, if you’re writing fantasy, you really should put dragons on your cover. You simply have to advertise. You really should…whatever. The world works in mysterious ways, though, because the real messages—the better ones—are right there for you, too. If you look for them. Or maybe that’s if you look inside yourself for them, anyway.

# # #

For various reasons, I’ve recently been listening to a LOT of writers and other creators talk about how one should go about life in this world of being a creator. This listening has come in many forms, including reading, watching a plethora of different YouTube content, attaching myself to a few other writers’ Patreon pages (here’s mine!), talking directly with them, and probably a few other things. Oh yeah. Um, podcasts, I forgot to mention the fifteen million podcasts I estimate I’ve listened to just this week alone.

It’s interesting to sort out the various messages each source gives, each provided with a certain sense of vehemence regarding the correctness of their viewpoint.

Bless their hearts, they are always so certain.

This has been helpful as I’m getting myself going again, because I, of course, take it all in and decide for myself how I’m going to move forward. That’s my story, anyway. I wrote a post a few years back wherein I described the most important skill a writer has in this day and age is to listen, and then to separate out the wheat from the chaff. It was in that light that, a year or two back, I told a group of writers that no one can teach me anything. That I learn on my own. This statement can sound abrasive on first blush, though if you bear with me a moment you will see that it is not meant to be.

It is perhaps unfortunate that this is who I am, but unfortunate or not, it is what it is.

If you tell me how to do something, that is the one way I don’t want to do it. The good news here, however, is that I am a good learner (it is, in fact, one of my Clifton StrengthFinder strengths). This means I really can learn from anyone, but that my learning will go a lot better if that person does not tell me that their way is the only way. Because it is fair to say, for me, anyway, that every single piece of wisdom I’ve ever heard about writing is flat-out wrong for someone, and oftentimes that someone is me.

If you tell me I really do have to use Facebook ads, for example, I’ll know you are wrong simply because I know people being successful without them, and because I’ve been perfectly successful at times without them, too. Same thing for going Kindle Unlimited vs. going Wide. I decided a long while ago that I don’t like being stuck with all my eggs in one basket, so I will not use KU unless it becomes the only avenue available. But I know it’s working for many other writers right now. To say the decision to be in KU is flat-out bad is flat-out wrong for those writers (though it is fair to say they’d best be ready to be agile in case Bad Things happen).

Pick any topic ranging from how one creates words (pantser vs. plotter?), to how one designs books and covers (Vellum vs. Atticus vs. Jutoh, vs. by hand, Photoshop, hire an artist, Canva), to how one communicates (to social media or not to social media, that is the question, eh?), to how and where one sells, or anything else.

There is never, ever a flat-out, one-size-fits-all answer.

The only right answer is this: do your due diligence, understand the way things are working, listen to a bunch of people, and then pick a path that works for you.

Lather, rinse, repeat.

So, my challenge is always to listen carefully, then throw away anything that (for me) is malarky. And that’s always a lot. At this point in my life, I know myself pretty well. I know how I work, and I know how I learn. I’ve come to trust Ron’s bullshit meter, meaning not that the advice from someone is necessarily factually wrong, per se (though sometimes it is), but that the advice is absolutely wrong for me and for my mindset.

My general thought here is that most advice and teaching is great if you want to become the person giving the advice. Unfortunately, however, there can be only one of them, and you are not it.

# # #

I was thinking about this yesterday while I was taking my morning walk and listening to a podcast wherein futurists were discussing possible events over the next couple of years, with a lot of discussion about AI, naturally. Which I always find interesting, though for reasons that could well be a completely different post. Futurists are interesting to listen to because they mix huge doses of bias and optimism with a mishmash of Jack’s magic beans to come up with a lot of really cool ideas. From those ideas, they then project what people should be doing now to take advantage of the future.

They sound a lot like creative people advising others how to succeed, which makes sense if you think about it.

Both groups are discussing completely ephemeral topics.

No one can be absolutely certain what big technological leaps are going to happen in the future (except to say leaps will occur), and no one can say with any specificity how creativity works (except maybe for a few brain scientists who are also likely deluding themselves). Just like no one knows for sure if any method of selling a book will work for me and my audience (until I try it and find out what my audience will do…or not). The only thing people can say with certainty is that they did X, and it worked out this way for them.

As I was walking yesterday, the world gave me one of those messages—which I captured in the image at the front of this post.

I do so love that image.

Scroll back up and look at it closely.

LEFT LANE MUST TURN LEFT.

RIGHT LANE MUST TURN RIGHT.

And the truck, rolling straight down the center.

I looked at these signs as the podcast filled my ears with advice for how to proceed into the future, and it was like the world was whispering to me.

Choose your own adventure, the world said. Take the left lane, and you have to turn left. Choose the right lane, and you have to turn right. But you can also choose a different path forward.

Here’s the thing, right? It’s a good idea to know the world. A good idea to listen to all that advice from all those experts. Learn about things you care about, because you need that learning to make your own map. But in the end, know exactly that this is what you are going to need to do: pick your map. Decide where you want to go. And if you do that, if you think through this life as a creative and decide for certain that you really want to get to your final destination—I mean, if you really, really want to make a creative life so badly you can feel it to your toes—I think you will find that any path you choose will get you there.

Because in the end, you can always go around the block, you know. If something doesn’t work, you can always take a different option next time.

The only failure mode is to stop driving.

#  # #

So, yeah. Be open to ideas. Learn from everyone. Take classes, spend money on infrastructure. Do all the things you decide you want to do. But before all that, I advise you to develop a map based on your truth. Figure out what roads you enjoy riding through the most, and in the process, maybe even figure out how to tell when you might need to change course.

Then set off to drive.

This is your life, after all. You get to do things your own damned way.

And who knows where you might end up?

I keep a Patreon page where I talk about writing and being a writer (among other things), and share occasional work in progress. If you’d like to support me–or just this blog–you can do so there.