I’ve got to confess, I feel a bit awkward about this post. I’ve got an exciting announcement about a new evolution here at the Tangled Path, which I am looking forward to starting with you in February, but I also feel kinda awkward because it will ultimately involve…money. Eep! The M word!
Money is such a weird topic in creative circles. It changes things. The transition from making something because the spirit moves you, to completing it and having it turn into a product ready for financial exchange, is a strange one. Yet it is also crucial if we are to continue making our art—unless we creatives are somehow otherwise financially supported, whether through a day job, spouse/family, trust fund (lol!), we must make ends meet. Even if we do support ourselves in other ways, most of us long to be able to make a living with our art. (Really—we do, even if the financial reality is that we need multiple income streams.)
Money can be strangely legitimizing. I remember after I signed my first book deal that people who had previously treated my writing aspirations as a daft hobby suddenly became my staunch supporters. (Though some continued to wonder if I would ever settle down, get a real job, and be less weird. Sorry, my lack of convention is a lifelong commitment.1) Of course, on a practical level that book deal enabled me to focus exclusively on writing for several years—which was, to say the least, empowering.
Yet it also became nerve-racking. I was told stories of authors who had their books cancelled, of authors who had to pay back their advances (yes! after they had gotten the money from the publisher, they had to return it!); other, often more established authors scoffed at newbies who received large sums up front and failed to earn out their advances and become NYT bestsellers (even though we all know how little control any author has over their sales). Not that this is a situation unique to the book industry—shit happens everywhere.
Making money changed my relationship with my work, too. To paraphrase Anne Lamott, writing can heal you, but publishing is something you have to recover from.2 I challenge anyone to claim it’s easy going from spinning words through your head in the quietude of your room (or neighborhood coffeeshop) to suddenly3 having not a few but many other eyes upon it, strangers’ eyes, critical gazes, people who don’t know you personally (and even a few who do) and who don’t feel the need to hold back their opinions on your work. It can be wonderful and exhilarating but also depressing, nerve-racking, and deeply, deeply weird, and I don’t think creative people talk enough about just how very strange it can be.
Strange or not, making money from your art can also be deeply validating. It can feel like suddenly other people are buying in—literally!—to your dream. Financial exchange can give us the fortitude to continue. It can let us know we’re appreciated. Let me tell you now: we are all truly, profoundly grateful for all of you who purchase our work. (Even more so when you buy your books from a local independent bookstore rather than Amazon—supporting your local economy, the book industry, and giving better royalties to your author friends!)
Yet as creatives we absolutely must divorce our sense of worth from financial exchange, acceptance, awards, etc. We might sell the work we made the fastest for gazillions of dollars4 and we might never sell the works that have taken our metaphorical blood, sweat and tears. (Let’s hope not the blood part but the tears are always involved, in my experience.) We must know that our worth and the worthiness of our work do not hinge on external validation. What we do matters first and foremost because it matters to us. We must be our own arbiters of a project’s worthiness. Not buyers, not agents, not critics, not judges—us. If you can say in your heart that you’ve created something deeply meaningful, healing, moving, clarifying, transformative, revolutionary FOR YOU, then that in the end is what matters the most.
And with that…uh…interesting sales technique… I am making a change with the Tangled Path that will lead to an option for paid subscriptions starting in March! Support me and thereby encourage me to rant more about artistic merit coming from within.
Also…on a personal note (as if this whole thing hasn’t been personal), I’ve been creating stuff “for free” (aka on my own dime/time) for a couple of years now. It can be liberating but it’s also a bit exhausting. Your support would truly mean the world to me. And if you’re already stretched thin supporting others, I get it.
Thanks for reading.
TL;DR Exciting Announcement Below!!!
Announcing some exciting changes at The Tangled Path!
Starting in February, I’m exploring a new rhythm for The Tangled Path and how I’ll be sharing work.
Every other week, instead of my usual musings about creativity and/or spirituality, I will begin to share Other Stuff. This includes but is not limited to:
Fiction Share - excerpts from current projects, maybe a short story, could even be writing prompts for you to play with!
Art Share - a piece or series of artwork I’ve been working on, with a peek at the behind-the-scenes of how it was made and why.
Meditation - a recorded meditation created by me featuring my voice, my harp music, and more, to deepen our connections with creativity and spirit.
Other Stuff! Personal updates, other creative expressions, fun and uplifting stories.
This will be offered for free until the end of February—so you’ll have two opportunities to check out my new stuff. Then those posts will become paid-subscribers-only starting in March ($8/month).
In between this new stuff, every two weeks, I will continue to share what you’ve grown used to here—ramblings and musings about the creative life and more. In other words, my little nonfiction essays that are my gift to you.
This part will continue to be FREE. So if you don’t want to upgrade to paid subscriptions, you won’t have to do anything—you will still get two essays a month.
Because one Substack is not enough, I will soon be launching a new publication: Lunations! Align with lunar rhythms in weekly posts that sync with the phases of the moon.
Lunations will begin soon, and next time, I’ll share more info. You can sign up now if you like.
Maybe it has something to do with all of the out of bounds planets in my natal chart! Who knows!
Thank you Martha for this one!
“Suddenly” = generally a period of 1-2+ years.
Hahahahaha we wish! But Ray Bradbury did write Fahrenheit 451 in three weeks or something astonishing like that, so….you never know. Of course, I don’t know what he sold it for, only that it has become a classic.