Are we asking the wrong question?
What is "independent writing?" Learning from an 8 foot bride.
Amanda Palmer ends her TED Talk: The Art of Asking (viewed by 13 million) with:
I think people have been obsessed with the wrong question, which is:
“How do we make people pay for music.”
What if we started asking:
“How do we let people pay for music.”
Your reaction might be similar to mine … “yes, but … “
“Yes, but … she’s Amanda Palmer, Yes, but … she’s a musician with a following … Yes, but she’s half crazy … she’s willing to stand on a box on a busy street dressed as a bride handing flowers to people. I can’t possibly do that.” Of course not. She’s Amanda. I’m Joyce. You’re you.
However, on those long days on the streets, Amanda learned how to connect with her eyes and a single flower. She learned how to turn connections into fans. She learned how to trust her fans. She learned how to be vulnerable enough to ask for help … and she learned how much connective tissue is created in the art of asking and receiving help. The stories she tells on her TED Talk circle around asking for things other than money … a couch to sleep on, a piano to practice on, a neti pot. Over time, connections built to the point where, when she did ask for money, it poured in and blew past her Kickstarter goal and became an industry phenomenon.
“when we really see each other, we want to help each other.”
When Amanda writes, she goes beyond tour dates and events, revealing her thoughts “about our work and our art, and our fears and our hangovers and our mistakes. We see each other, and I think, when we really see each other, we want to help each other.“
While Amanda, as a musician lives and creates in a different world from those of us here on Substack, are we that much different? Most of us are independent writers working in niches possibly as odd as Amanda’s cross between “punk and cabaret” … ill-defined niches where we are still trying to find our“fans,” often wondering if we even have such a thing as a niche which might come with fans.
“Sarah says people want to support independent writing.”
My friend Sue Ferrera, who writes The Wayward Yogini, and I connected during our early days here on Substack and she messaged me this week that she wanted to talk about something Sarah said. (Sarah Fay has been instrumental in helping us both on our Substack journeys.) Our conversation focused on the tendency to try to justify asking for money … something we have both agonized over.
Sarah’s advice, simplified into a one line recommendation, is something like this message to readers: “If you support independent writing, an annual subscription is now only $XX.” No details about all the values we want to promise. Just a clear statement about who we are, what we write about and why, some links to sample posts, a few quotes.
Great advice, but it left me with a question.
Is Sarah right that people want to support independent writing?
I actually don’t know … but what if we assumed she were right? What is it about “independent writing” that attracts people? It has to be more than just our not getting a regular paycheck. I believe that Amanda Palmer, as a musician, a creator, holds part of the answer. She brings her whole, unfiltered, unpolished self to the party. What you see is what you get … with a hand held out inviting you to join in. (Of course, she is also a gifted musician dedicated to honing her art … and, to doing it her way.)
I don’t know yet if I’m a fan of Amanda Palmer’s music, however, as I watched the above video, I kept wondering how I could pull that no-holds-barred, this-is-me energy into my writing. How could I … how could we … bring more of ourselves into our two dimensional world of independent writing? How could we be so vulnerably authentic that our energy flowed through the words and pages and fused with the energy of our would-be or might-become fans?
My life experience says that people want to help us do something they would like to do, be more of the person they yearn to be. They want to feel our energy, feel a connection … feel. Speaking mainly for myself: most of us writers live in our heads, write from our heads while Amanda’s energy comes from her body … her voice, her movements, her expressions.
Perhaps the most compelling part of being an “independent writer” is that we are “knowable” … human … brilliant and flawed … sharing our stories of triumphs and tragedies … revealing our inner wisdom along side our all-too-visible blind spots.
What if, instead of focusing on writing better, we strived for connecting better by being more authentic, more vulnerable? What if, instead of always asking for money, we asked for a story, a haiku, a photo, an answer, a vision, a dream, … a blue feather?
What if we stopped trying to create paid subscribers
and instead focused on connecting with fans
who became fans because we let them know who we are
and they know we see who they are because of what we write?
I think one of Sarah Fay’s great gifts to all of us is to boost our sense of worth, helping us believe that writers deserve to be paid, and that we should be comfortable asking for money.
While I agree with that in principle, I believe I still have a lot to learn about how to be authentic and vulnerable on the page and truly connect with readers. In the meantime, all my posts are free. I love to hear from you and would love to hear about what has helped you be more authentic and vulnerable as you walk through the world.
And, if you happen to have a blue feather (the symbol of open and honest communication) please feel free to share it on Notes (an image … no plucking from a real bird, please). If you click restack with a note, it will take you to Notes where you share an image and comment.
Thank you and here’s a bonus video of Amanda Palmer’s “The Ride.” This one made me a fan.
(And have always been a fan of her book.)
I love this: "Perhaps the most compelling part of being an “independent writer” is that we are “knowable” … human … brilliant and flawed … sharing our stories of triumphs and tragedies … revealing our inner wisdom along side our all-too-visible blind spots."
I have always believed that it is when someone shows us their soft underbelly that we grow to love them, flaws and all.
Thanks for the shout out. I didn't know you had mentioned me, and as I was reading along, I stopped... Wait, who dat? Dat me!!! :) 💕
Fear not. Place your fingers on the keyboard, where mine await you, and we will connect.