Does Your Writing Give Voice To Your Interests Or Your Ego?
My first Medium post was about eclairs. It was as popular as a Chumbawamba concept album.
You won’t find the eclair article on Medium anymore because I deleted it as soon as I became a “wine writer.” By that I mean I published a single post about wine, titled Have the Intellectual Capacity of a Cockatoo? Seven Things You Can Still Say About Wine.
Most people did not, or would not, identify with having the intellectual capacity of a cockatoo.
Deterred by my unpopularity, and self-conscious about the frivolity of my subject matter, I deleted the wine post. But I still wanted to write about something. So I did what any self-conscious creative in need of validation would do: I asked my Facebook friends what I could write about that they would want to read.
A few observations: (1) Brenna’s answer was obviously the best; (2) It’s a sad state of affairs when I’m the “only real writer” you know; and (3) Most of my friends suggested I write about food or wine.
Months later, when I finally returned to Medium, what did I write about? Future-of-work concepts.
“Stop fucking around, Jess,” I told myself. “Food and wine writers — people way more talented than you — are already a dime a dozen. The world gains nothing by another person’s perspective on pinot noir. It’s time to write about something you’re interested in that will advance smart conversations and build your professional brand.”
Say, for example, something that doesn’t have the F-bomb in it.
It took a Product Hunt article to make me realize I was doing it wrong. Nearly every successful writer profiled in the post shares the same advice: If you want to write well, write a lot and often. The thing is, it’s difficult to do high-volume, high-frequency writing on a subject you aren’t passionate about. I was tackling subjects I thought would boost vanity metrics (likes, views, etc.) or my professional brand or, ideally, both. My writing gave voice to my ego, not my interests. Unsurprisingly, I found it hard to commit to a writing schedule.
Most of the time we hang out, my friends silently wish I would stop talking about food and wine. So do my dates. I’m going to start giving myself permission to write about food and wine, even though it’s unimportant, even though everyone else is writing about food and wine, and even though it has nothing to do with my career. It’s just a thing that moves me.
That’s my intention, but I jotted down these notes to keep me writing instead of wondering what to write about:
- Build your brand as a writer, not necessarily a writer of [INSERT SUBJECT MATTER HERE]. Instead of telling the world what you’re going to write about, just write. It’s a waste of time to update your LinkedIn profile, curate new Twitter follow lists, or start a new Pinterest board every time you decide to take on a new subject.
- Don’t worry about relating your writing to your career. Make production, not self-promotion, the priority. When you’re inspired by something work-related, write about it. When you’re inspired by a new Grimes single, write about it.
- Write 500 words day about anything. Give yourself permission to be inconsistent with topic and voice and structure, but strive for consistency with the habit of writing itself. This is advice Jeff Goins gives and David Kadavy maybe follows.
- Never complain, never explain. This is a guiding principle for my sex life, so I don’t know, try it with writing and see what happens.
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Your turn! How do you keep yourself writing, unselfconsciously, in this age of instant analytics and personal brand paranoia? It would be great to hear the thoughts of other Medium writers.
