CULTURE + WRITING
When Is It Good Enough?
Sadly for some folks, nothing will ever be
Hey, your glass is empty
It’s a hell of a long way home
Why don’t you let me take you?
It’s no good to go alone
I never would have opened up
But you seemed so real to me
And after all the bullshit I’ve heard
Refreshing not to see
That I don’t have to pretend
She doesn’t expect it from me
So, don’t tell me I
Haven’t been good to you
Don’t tell me I
Have never been there for you
Just tell me why
Nothing is good enough — Good Enough by Sarah McLachlan from the album Fumbling Towards Ecstacy
Writers have been up in arms and getting their knickers twisted for several weeks here over two things: Boosting and Artificial Intelligence. For both, it’s been mixed feelings: confusion, apprehension and curiosity.
On closer inspection, it’s not exactly about them. Raising awareness is the effect of them. This includes writers feeling left behind. For most, it’s the fear of missing out, writers worried about fairness, writers questioning the changes, writers discussing the benefits of their membership.
As a response, it was mainly (not all) the editors who wrote about raising the standards of writing. They wrote about the need to be more attentive to detail: strengthening personal experiences over content; composed pieces that are clear of typos and gnarly grammatical slips; bringing new level of expertise to the table. No more mere couch writing that scratches the armpits.
To up competitive standards, editors suggested providing editorial feedback to elevate quality of submissions on respective publications instead of automatic rejection. This is important to note because it means you’ll need to redraft and polish your metal several times. It’s what reputable writers do, what they’re supposed to do.
But on the writers’ part, it was often a different chorus. And as usual, despite the league of advice given by editors, no one likes to listen.
I was reading an article by someone who recently got her piece boosted on Medium. She wrote how it was a lovely surprise and that she did see an encouraging change. She was excited, and it cemented her belief that the boosting helps.
And then she wrote a line that made me crestfallen: “I was disappointed that I didn’t make as much money as I’d hoped.”
Why, dear writers, in all honesty, do you do this? Just, why?
Yet, we all gloat to glory about gratitude. It becomes an even bigger hypocrisy when writers write about Artificial Intelligence robbing us of opportunities, taking away jobs from humans, eroding our humanity and all that jazz. Yet here we are, writing claptrap after claptrap, and at the slightest offering of hope, recognition and opportunity, instead of saying “Thank you” we say we are still disappointed with our lives.
Perhaps this is a reason why cancer wins.
The great writers and literature that surround us were never wealth-obsessed. It was due to this, and them being subjected to societal pains and struggles just like the rest of us, they produced masterpieces that inspire us to be writers and to want to follow their irreplaceable footsteps. Knowing those are big shoes to fill, it makes us even more inspired to try.
In all the years I’ve read Charles Dickens, Mary Wollstonecraft and Jonathan Swift (being my favorites), never once did I read them write “I wish I was a millionaire from being a writer.” Not once. Why? Because they were a whole lot smarter than that. They knew what they were dealing with. They knew the odds that stacked against them.
Instead, they wrote cautionary tales of what happens with wealth and class systems — they divide and destroy us.
Dickens’ classics taught us the ills of the Industrial Revolution. He shed light to us about child abuse, human trafficking and slavery when the rich assumes power. You don’t need to read all of his books if they depress you. Just Oliver Twist would do. A Christmas Carol and A Tale of Two Cities would add more historicism.
Mary Wollstonecraft aspired women to be financially independent. Operative word: Independent. She didn’t, however, stress the importance for women to be wealthy in order to achieve happiness being a writer.
Her emphasis was on the need for women to have a space of one’s own to read, write and be themselves. A physical and mental “safe space” to relieve them of their incumbent roles as wives, sisters, daughters, mothers. It gets too much sometimes dividing ourselves and not knowing which needs more tender, loving care while feeding into the needs of others.
To have just those three will be a lifetime of gratitude as it meant a life out of societal much-desired gilded cage. It was Carrie Bradshaw who fashioned it to be an apartment in New York with Manolo Blahniks despite being on a writer’s salary. That show (Sex and the City) often made little to no sense, much like the bulk of the 90s and 00s entertainment that misconceived us.
Jonathan Swift’s penchant for satire was to hint at our foolishness when it comes to power distribution. From his educated vantage point, we don’t know what power distribution means without killing off one another emotionally, spiritually, or physically — the essence of our humanity.
In terms of writing, Artificial Intelligence excels as a content provider. But as a writer — more so one that will be acknowledged and remembered like Dickens, Wollstonecraft and Swift — the wealth of knowledge comes from the journeys we took in our lives. The experiences. The gambles we risked. Robots of any kind, do not have them so that gives us a perpetual advantage.
So why then, do some writers insist on writing content that can be either found on Google, or written by a bot when you can automatically outrun the artificial intelligence with your own Hero’s journey?
You probably couldn’t because you’re either ashamed of your own life, you don’t think you’re worthy, or you’re too bothered by what others think.
In short, you think you’re not good enough. That overcast puts you in a perpetual mental state of lack. With a mindset of lack, nothing will ever be enough. Your writing, your money, your worth, your glass.
I am an entrepreneur and based on the work that I do, I could and should be talking about profits all day, all week, all month, all year round.
But I don’t, I won’t and I shouldn’t. That’s also not why I became an entrepreneur. People often ask me what is my business about? and how much profit does it make? Seldom do people ask me the better question: why do I do it?
I produce cotton batik shirts for men in Malaysia. On Thursdays, it is Batik Day. Issued by the government, it becomes a compulsory tradition for work folks at the office, both in the private and in the government sectors. In Indonesia that would be on a Friday (created by President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono after batik was added to UNESCO’s Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity list in 2009).
Batik shirts for men, for as long as I can remember, have been expensive. Only the top government officers, the royals and the cream of society had access to the good ones.
What’s commonly found as affordable batik shirts are the cheap, polyester ones produced in China with designs that made no sense to the art of batik. They’re digitally printed, and are no different to any other printed shirt for men.
In fact, traditionally and historically, batik was only worn by the royal families and by their staff to mark class divisions. Certain motifs and print designs were forbidden to be worn outside the palace or by a non royal.
Over the centuries as the monarchy collapsed, namely in Indonesia, the center of batik production for over 2000 years stretching across the Far East, Middle East, Central Asia and India, folks outside the palaces from farmers to fishermen were able to appreciate the artistry of wearing and owning batik. Batik, produced by a master artisan, had a commodity value likened to gold. It was also believed to have magical powers because of the intricate designs by human hands.
I fell into batik in a bid to retrace my ancestry that spans from Thailand, India to Sumatra. But I didn’t want to be alone in this quest.
I also wanted people to afford it. It is our birthright to our ancestral art. Hence, producing batik with the community not only fulfills this mission, but it also feeds them.
My personal and company principal is the art and the price of batik must not deprive its own people. Batik is the socio-economic and political equalizer.
I will never forget one night when we received a call from a customer who bought a shirt and wanted to pick it up en route to an official function that required a batik. The buyer was willing to forgo our delivery service (which saves him money) and collect the shirt himself as it was urgent.
Looking at his address, he lived in the southern state of Johor— five hours away. Due to such, we made this a special request and were willing to wait for him regardless of time. Thus, just for him, our store remained open.
He drove the distance and arrived past midnight, close to 1am. As we delivered the shirt by hand to the customer in his vehicle, we realized it was a young couple with a newborn in a very small car.
This young man, probably in his first job and newborn in tow, drove five hours to pick up his first batik shirt to attend a work event the next day. From our store, he had to drive an additional hour to reach his destination.
That batik shirt was a first for our customer, just like being a newlywed having a wife and a newborn heading for his first big work event. He was excited enough to be willing to travel and collect his needed shirt from us at 1am.
Coincidentally, he had bought a shirt from our very first collection, sold at $13. Our most expensive is $40. Our competitors sell theirs at nothing less than $90, a reason why locals struggle to afford batik. Batik had become a tourist token that folks like this couldn’t own a shirt.
I am an entrepreneur because of moments like this, and the realization that wealth can be distributed because it should. In the course of my work, never once after a sale do I utter, “I’m disappointed that I could have made more.”
There are things we do for art. There are things we do for charity. There are things we do for posterity. There are things we do to extend humanity.
As a writer I can tell you this much, writing is for everything of the above but profit. Ask any legendary writer buried six feet.
May 2023 marks a full year I am on Medium. To this day, I will never understand the minds of writers who come on board hoping to profit more than others while touting democracy, equality, and the famous, “I am here for the love of the craft.”
No, you’re not. You’re just another capitalist sans the Balenciaga outfit and Louis Vuitton keepall. I’d have more respect for you if you just own up to the fact. For folks like these, nothing will ever be good enough.
That’s the reality the rest of us have to put up with in the pursuit of our craft. I leave you with a strong reminder from a fellow respectable colleague, editor and writer Christopher Robin:
