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It is so tempting for each of us to just focus on the items that are still undone on our to-do lists. To constantly be focused on tomorrow, next week, next month, and next year. But when we pause, even for a moment, to recognize what we have created and learned, I feel that is where transformation happens. When we are reminded what we did, not just what we hope to do. Where we recognize our capabilities, not just our hang-ups. Where we can celebrate the risks taken along the way that remind us: you are alive and vital, you have something to say, and your work matters.

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Today, I want to encourage you to look back on the year and celebrate what you created. I imagine that for many of you, this may bring up complicated emotions. Things like:

• “This was a year of constant interruptions.”
• “Ugh, I didn’t create nearly what I hoped I would.”
• “I created a lot, but nothing felt like it worked the way I hoped.”
• “Just as I thought I was getting my creative routine in place, everything changed.”
• “I actually feel like I moved backward this year.”

But I imagine you did create this year. And more than that, you learned a lot. Recognize and celebrate these things!

And where you feel you fell flat, I encourage you to reflect on the lessons these experiences taught you. Because there, too, is progress. Gaining wisdom is creative work as well, and I’ll bet you earned some big creative wisdom this year!

It is so tempting for each of us to just focus on the items that are still undone on our to-do lists. To constantly be focused on tomorrow, next week, next month, and next year. But when we pause, even for a moment, to recognize what we have created and learned, I feel that is where transformation happens. When we are reminded what we did, not just what we hope to do. Where we recognize our capabilities, not just our hang-ups. Where we can celebrate the risks taken along the way that remind us: you are alive and vital, you have something to say, and your work matters.

In talking with so many creators, I find that anxiety can be a constant, causing overwhelm, stagnation, and burnout. In many ways, this is a natural part of what it means to put yourself out there, and to grow and evolve as a writer or creator. When we are young, our culture pushes us to the next grade, the next school, the next early-life milestone. But as we get older, these things are more self-directed, and I think that causes an anxiety many people aren’t prepared for.

When you create and share, there is always that possibility of feeling you are in a never-ending grind of pressure to do more. But today, for a moment, I encourage you to celebrate what you have created this year.

Sometimes that is harder than it sounds. There is so much stimuli around us each day, even in this very minute, distracting us. These things can keep us from just saying: “Look at how much I did! That is good! And that is enough.”

I’m helping to plan a book launch for one writer who had been doing some outreach to podcasts, but hadn’t noted it on the book launch timeline we developed. I encouraged her to go back and add these tasks she already completed, for two reasons:

• She will have a clear record of what she did when, and can use this as a template for her next book launch.
• Seeing these actions written down will be a clear reminder of how much she is doing for her book launch.

She reported back that it was indeed a powerful activity to do. This feels silly to admit, but there are times when I do a household task, then once it is done, go back and add it to my calendar as a to-do. Then a millisecond later, I delete it or mark it as “done.” That split second moment of recognition always feels amazing for some reason.

I listen to so many interviews with writers and creators, and it is common for someone to ask about what lead to a big milestone, and for the person to respond, “Gosh, I just don’t know how this happened. I’m not even sure what I did.” Well, writing down what you do gives you something to point to and recognize. “What did I do to launch this book? Oh, let me show you. This wasn’t easy, but I did it.”

In recognizing and celebrating what you create, actually list out what you created, what you are proud of, and what you learned. Writing this down is a powerful way to celebrate these things, not gloss over them, which I think we tend to do in our minds.

To me, this process always begs the question of how we can live up to our creative vision, while not feeling overspent. This time of year, I often consider:

• My mission and how I can feel even more aligned to it in my daily work.
• Doing only the things that matter deeply, and cutting away the rest.
• How everything I do can focus on craft, embracing the satisfaction of improvement in the details.
• Ways to stay consistent that fuel me, instead of depleting me.
• The simple creative habits I want to nurture, and how to keep expectations ridiculously low.

The work I do with writers is inherently about connection. A magical thing happens when someone reads your book, your essay, or experiences what you create. This is about depth, not breadth.

When it comes to considering creative work and sharing it with others, there is a tempting belief that “things were easier back in the day.” That things were simpler back in 1990 or 1980 or 1970 or 1960, in terms of creating, finding your place within well established systems that help you develop and distribute that work, and building a career and an audience for what you create. But I don’t think it was.

The other day, someone posted a series of photos on Facebook from the early 1980s. This is Shawn Murenbeeld in his basement, creating scratch-built replicas of Star Wars vehicles, and then shooting his own movies with a Super 8 camera:

What you are seeing in this image is a model of the probe droid he created, which was seen in the beginning of the movie The Empire Strikes Back. (To be clear: his models are copies, built as a hobbyist. He didn’t work on these films.) Why did this resonate with me? Because I can clearly see his passion for this work. In the background are posters that inspired him, and a shelf full of models he has created. Back then especially, this is time-consuming work that clearly requires a lot of creative energy.

What I also see in this photo is what is missing: any viable way for him to have his film distributed, seen, or celebrated by others. Even beyond issues about rights and intellectual property, there was no YouTube, no internet, no Patreon, no Substack, no social media, no Meetup.com, no way for him to share this work easily. Yet, he created. And it was enough to devote himself to developing his craft, and showing up for his creative vision. When I look up Shawn, I see how these experiments in his basement lead to a 30+ year career in art and design.

As I was writing this, Ellie Robins shared something in her own newsletter that I feel will resonate with many writers:

“This Substack’s subscribers are steadily growing, and the emails I get with growing frequency saying that people are enjoying the work—they really do mean the world. And yet as we close the year, my predominant feeling around this Substack is a sense of failure. I wish I were more organized; that I were able to follow a publishing schedule; that I were better at creating a network on here without feeling overwhelmed; that I wasn’t so often scrambling to put a piece together at the last minute; that I could stick with ideas for longer, especially the ones that seem to light people up, instead of bouncing around between ideas in ways I worry make my work hard to penetrate or follow.”

Yet, Ellie published 40 essays this year. I mean, that is just awesome!

For whatever you shared this year, I encourage you to celebrate it. Thank you for showing up this year. Thank you for what you have created. Thank you for what you have shared.

I’m seeing a lot of gift guides this year. What I’m encouraging you to do is this: give yourself the gift of recognition. That:

• You are unique.
• You have a powerful voice.
• You have created.
• You have gained wisdom.
• You have capabilities.

And that the world is a better place because of your voice and your work.
Please let me know in the comments below: what did you create this year, what did you learn, and/or what are you proud of! Say it out loud, I would love to hear it.

Thanks!
-Dan

My days are spent talking with writers and creators, and I often hear about the challenges they face when they consider sharing their work. This year, I’ve watched writers change their strategy in how they reach readers, focusing less on social media and more on Substack and email newsletters. But when they consider sharing on these platforms, they tell me about their concerns. Perhaps some of these feel familiar to you:

• “What do I talk about?”
• “I don’t think anyone really cares.”
• “I’m worried I will run out of things to say.”
• “I don’t have the time for anything new!”
• “How do I stay consistent?”
• “I worry about how I should come across, and then procrastinate because I need to get it right.”

These writers are so passionate about their writing, but face challenges when considering how to share that work regularly via Substack, newsletters, and social media. The result? They miss opportunities to develop their audience of ideal readers — those who will love what they write.

I’m excited to announce my next workshop, meant to address these challenges that writers face. The workshop is called “Find Your Voice and Get Into Your Groove on Substack (and Beyond)” and it will take place on Friday December 15, 2023, at 12:30pm ET. Of course, a full recording will be sent to all who register, so if you can’t make it that day, please consider registering anyway. The cost is $49, and it’s packed with practical solutions, including:

• How to confidently know what to share that reflects what you write and why.
• How to identify the themes you want to write about consistently in a newsletter (or social media), so that everything you share feels authentic and cohesive.
• How to clearly define your identity on Substack and beyond, including the branding and design elements you use.
• My process for never running out of ideas for what to share, regardless of how often you want to share.
• How to create simple repeatable system to ensure you share consistently, using up less of your creative energy or time.

All of this is about you sharing what you create with authenticity. Fellow introverts: this is definitely for you! I have spent years developing this system for replacing fear and overwhelm with a clear path to sharing that actually feels good!

You can register for the workshop here.

What you create matters, and what you share matters. Developing the habit of creating and sharing is about honoring your voice, developing your readership, and filling your days with moments that matter.

Attending to this work is a craft. Sharing is a craft that takes time to develop. I encourage you to invest in that craft. Learn how to express what you write about consistently, and fill your life with meaningful moments with readers and other writers.

This year I have been focusing on simplifying. Like so many writers and creators I speak with, it is easy to feel overwhelmed by all of the responsibilities and opportunities we face each day. As I considered this, I kept having a single image in my head — a bakery I remember walking past many times. When I looked it up, I was pleasantly surprised to learn it was still there on Prince Street in New York City:

Why this image? As a writer and creator, it is so easy to constantly feel pressure to focus on growth. We worry that we need to do more, that we aren’t doing enough, or that we aren’t doing the correct thing.

But when I consider my creative work akin to the ethos of a small bakery that has endured for more than a century, it encourages me to:

• Focus on what I truly love doing.
• Do less, but with a heightened sense of craft and detail.
• Embrace limits as a way of honoring my creative vision, and the experiences
• I hope to have with readers and writers.
• Be satisfied with the work I do, instead of being distracted by trends, what others are doing, or succumbing to the ‘fear of missing out.’

These are all themes communicated in one of my favorite movies — the documentary film, Jiro Dreams of Sushi. It tells the story of a tiny sushi shop with only ten seats at the counter and a few small booths, which has thrived for more than 50 years. Today, Jiro Ono is 98 years old and still runs the restaurant:

He and his staff focus on honing their craft and sharing it as an experience with their customers. They aren’t just making a product — they’re considering the best ways that someone can experience their work. How they share what they create is a critical part of this process.

Now, I am never opening a bakery or restaurant. But these inspirations make me consider: how can I best express my creative vision? How can I attend to the craft of sharing what I create? How can this be measured not in hollow numbers, but in moments that truly matter: when our ideas inspire others, help others, and create conversations and relationships that make life feel meaningful.

If you want to attend to this work for yourself in how you approach Substack, email newsletters, or anywhere you share online, please register for my upcoming workshop here.

Thank you for being here with me.

-Dan

I was watching a video from author John Green earlier this week, and he ended it with the lines of a poem by Philip Larkin from 1979. “The Mower” ends with these words:

…we should be careful

Of each other, we should be kind
While there is still time.

As I considered this, it began to feel like an ethos for how one can approach sharing what they write, and engaging with readers in the process. To do it with intention. To be mindful of those around you. To infuse each interaction with kindness. And to never lose site of the fact that this time we have is precious and finite.

John was sharing the poem after describing his recent struggles with mental health. He shares: “I’ve had a rough couple months. My OCD and anxiety have been really high. I’ve also had this lengthy bout of depression… it was just this terrible indescribable fear.”

John has always been inspiring in how honestly he shares about his journey with mental health.

His brother Hank, also an author, recently went through cancer treatment for Hodgkin’s lymphoma. He had successful treatment, and shared his journey via a series of videos. He says, “This week my doctor told me I am in complete remission from my cancer… Now this has gone pretty much as good as possible for me.” But then he talks about the long-term implications, even if the cancer never returns: pain on his left side, increased chances of heart disease, lung disease, leukemia, and of getting other kinds of cancer.

Hank continues: “All that comes with another side effect: permanent anxiety.” He shared a metaphor about rolling dice in a game to assess risk, said, “I get to roll the die every day for the rest of my life.”

These are two brothers who have created extraordinary things with their writing and various other projects. I mean, the Wikipedia pages of both John Green and Hank Green are filled with incredible accomplishments.

They are sharing with intention. They are creating with kindness. They are being honest about their personal journeys in ways that truly help others.

Sometimes it feels that the world runs at this incredible speed, and it is only getting faster. That can make being intentional and kind seem more difficult. One thing I have been considering is this: how we slow down to focus on the craft of creating and connecting with others in meaningful ways. Even though I primarily work with writers, I look to other creative fields for inspiration.

Recently, I picked up my film camera again, and it feels like a meditation in intention. The camera weighs more than 6 pounds. Here it is:

It’s a medium format camera, which means the film negatives are really big and filled with detail. Evidently: “Medium format has an image resolution equivalent to an unfathomable 400 megapixels.” Most digital cameras today hover around 20 to 60 megapixels.

Brand new film is still manufactured, and each roll consists of a total of 10 shots. It takes several steps just to load the film:

Here is a photo of me from this roll of film:

The process of taking photos on film is three things:

1. Time consuming. I have to order film. Then load the film. Then take the photos, being careful not to waste a single shot on the roll of 10 images. Then send the film to be developed, wait for development, and for them to mail back negatives or prints. The time from putting the film in the mail, to seeing the developed images is 10 days.
2. Expensive. Each roll of film cost me $9.40, plus $23.40 to develop the film and scan the negatives. So that comes out to $3.28 per photo.
3. Uncertain. For this specific roll of film, two photos didn’t come out at all, and two were blurry. So that was $13.12 in wasted shots, and I didn’t know they didn’t come out until weeks after taking them. On the plus side: this is motivation for me to become a better photographer!

I know that many writers bemoan of the myriad of options they have in how they write, how they publish, and how they share. But what I try to consider is that we get to do these things, not that we have to do these things.

For instance, you don’t have to create a video as an author and share it online. For instance, I see many authors do this when they receive the first printed copies of their books — these are often emotional videos that readers love. But if you do create a video like this, it is amazing to me that you can do it quickly on your phone, and distribute it to the entire world in under a minute. Not long ago, that was unthinkable.

A few years back, my wife was in a thrift store and saw this old 8mm movie camera and bought it for me:

You can only shoot 4 minutes of footage before you have to change the film. And it doesn’t record sound, so you would need an entirely other device for that. Then another editing device to sync sound to the movie footage.

Again, imagine having to do all of that work, and all of the skills you would have to become proficient in to do so. Today, we simply pull out our phone and record in an instant, and then post it to social media in seconds.

The craft of how we write, create, and share takes time. I have been preparing the next two workshops that I will teach in December and January, focusing on the nuances of how to create with more intention and forge with meaningful connections with your ideal readers.

These are skills that you develop. Like any craft, that is something to be honored, not eradicated. I understand if sometimes a writer hopes for a magic button, one that makes it easier to write, easier to publish, easier to share and reach their ideal readers. But I believe in developing the skills of how to communicate what you create and why, and how to share that with your audience in a way that develops trust. This is important work.

There is this YouTube channel I have watched for years, where art conservator Julian Baumgartner shares his process of restoring old paintings. He has more than 1.5 million subscribers. In a recent video, he showed the arduous process of removing glue from the back of a painting. First he puts this solvent on a small square on the back of the painting:

Then he slowly scrapes off the old glue:

Next he reapplies the solvent to the same area a second time, and scrapes with a different motion:

Then he applies water to that same little square, and using a stiff bristle brush, rubs that area for a third time:

Done! Right? Nope. He now moves onto the next small square of the back of the canvas, repeating this process a total of 15 times.

It should be noted, this is all for the back of the painting! We aren’t yet seeing the copious amount of work he has to do to the front of the painting, the part that people actually see.

In a 2022 interview with Katie White at Artnet, he describes this process in terms of the emotional toll it takes: “Cleaning is a reductive process: you have to be very, very careful and be very, very focused. If you remove something, you can’t put it back. It takes a lot of intellectual and emotional energy.”

What is the most indispensable tool in his studio? Julian’s answer:

“The greatest tool I have is my brain, right? It gives me the ability to synthesize information and be creative. Then, on a more practical level, my hands, because though I may theorize or research an interesting approach, I still have to execute it.”

I love how he describes his work:

“Conservation is not magic; it’s really just a dedicated craftsperson working with their hands, employing materials and techniques with patience and care. If I in my studio with a scalpel and some brushes can save this magical piece of artwork, then you at home—with whatever tools you have, whatever capacity you have—can effect a positive change somewhere in your life.”

How we create is a craft. So is how we share. And it can be our choice to do it with intention, being mindful of others, and infusing it all with kindness.

Thank you for being here with me.

-Dan

When you consider how you share what you create, how do you avoid a feeling of overwhelm? This is a constant concern that writers and creators tell me about. Last week I presented the latest version of my Substack workshop, helping writers embrace the platform, grow their subscribers on it, and earn money in the process. (You can purchase access to the full recording here.) I had way more people than I expected sign up, and the feedback has been incredible.

One concern kept coming up again and again from writers: fear of doing one more thing to share what they create. Having to learn — YET ANOTHER — new platform from scratch. The fear of both jumping on a trend, and also being too late to benefit from that trend because they waited too long.

In recent weeks, I have also run private sessions about Substack for Jennie Nash and Author Accelerator, Brooke Warner and She Writes Press, and Jane Friedman and her amazing community. (If you want me to speak with your community about Substack, let me know!) There too, writers asked great questions about what it means to manage the process of creating and sharing, without feeling overwhelmed.

Today I want to share my recommendations for how to do three things:

• Making writing and creating central to your life.
• Feeling great about sharing your work.
• Not feeling overwhelmed in the process.

Let’s dig in…

Do Less

Yep. Just… do less. I talk to writers about this all the time. Instead of doing 1,000 things around a book launch, what if you just did three things really well? How could that not only increase effectiveness, but also just feel better?

I wrote about this recently in terms of social media, how doing less can be a powerful way to find greater fulfillment and connection in social media.

Too often, we seek to add new things to our life with the hopes they are the missing ingredient. But I try to flip my thinking on this: what if we did less. How could that help me create and share more?

I remember people asking a fitness expert on a podcast once, “What vitamins and supplements do you take?” The hope was that the expert would tell them what supplements to buy, and to add to their health routine. But the expert said something unexpected: “I take as few supplements as possible, and those I do take, are totally customized to my personal health needs.”

The message was this: do less. Instead of adding supplements, just try to eat food that is rich in vitamins and things you need. If you do that, then you may not need to “supplement” your food with added pills and expense and management of them. Less is indeed more.

Now, I’m not a fitness expert, but my entire life has been spent in the creative process and surrounded by those who write and create. If you are a writer looking to prepare for a book launch a year ahead of time, and a goal is to get 40 book reviews within the first month of publication… what if instead of trying to get 10,000 faceless followers on social media, you instead developed an email list of 100 dedicated fans. And over the year, you encouraged and prepared them to post book reviews when your book came out. Even if only 1/2 did it, you still exceeded your goal. 100 people vs 10,000 can have the same result. In other words: Do less, have it be more effective, and feel better about it.

Pursue Human-Centered Marketing

I’ve used this phrase for years to try to describe how to think about sharing your work: this is marketing focused on a meaningful connection between two people. That’s it. It’s not about how many followers you have, how many likes you get, gaming an algorithm, or trying to find secret buttons in social media that makes everything easy. While those things may be a part of tactics you use, they are not the goal.

This is about connecting with people in a meaningful manner. It is about communicating effectively, and building trust with others. It is about empathy and evoking a feeling of possibility.

We often focus too much on the technology. I was considering one example this week. Recently Apple presented one of their keynote presentations where they unveiled new products. After the video was released, they gave a big reveal: the entire presentation was shot exclusively using an iPhone.

So the big message is meant to be: “Look what an iPhone can do!” But then, Apple released a short behind the scenes video of how their presentation was shot. And what you see is this: the iPhone is the absolute tiniest part of the entire production. So here is the rig that encapsulated the iPhone:

But then you see in the video is so much else, specifically: People, people, people! The video is filled with so many people behind the scenes — each an expert with years of experience in their craft. There are 12-20 people behind the equipment during this one shot:

Yes, there is a lot of technology being used: the expensive lights, the huge rigs, the many external hard drives, the spaghetti of complicated cabling, the 15 monitors, the many editing programs. But each of these items requires experts who know what to use, why, and how.

What you don’t see is important too: all of the scriptwriting, the voice/presentation coaches, set designers and wardrobe experts, the storyboarding, and so much else that is essential for effective communication. My favorite image from the behind-the-scenes video is this guy running as he pushes the camera to get a shot, with a crescent wrench hanging out of his back pocket. No matter how fancy the tech gets, you always need that guy running and pushing with a crescent wrench in his pocket!

This is not about the technology, even though it is a part of the process. Technology will change, but your ability to communicate effectively with others around what you create, and developing a sense of trust in the process is a skill that will never change.

I recently watched the newest Mission: Impossible movie, and of course my favorite scene was the one where the government was converting all of their digital intelligence back to paper, using a warehouse full of typewriters! They are going analog when an AI begins modifying digital files:

I mean, I am ready for this kind of catastrophe! Here I am with part of my typewriter collection:

I keep vintage technology around to remind me: the tools change, but they are always in the service of connecting stories and ideas to people who will be inspired by them.

Hone Your Creative Process

Want to feel less overwhelmed when sharing? Focus on developing the skills of communication, coordination, and collaboration. This, as opposed to: the tech, the buttons, or the trends. I wrote a long essay about this recently: Believe in your unique creative voice.

Too many people are afraid to create. I want to challenge you to create more. To make your creative process a part of your everyday life. I see this all the time at home.

My wife is an amazing artist, and art is central to her life. She has carved out dedicated spaces for her art in our house, including an art table that is constantly changing to reflect her latest project. It is a lens into her creative vision. Just this week it was cleared off, and a specific array of the following items were carefully laid out:

• 10 tubes of paint
• 2 kinds of erasers
• 6 kinds of pencils
• A roll of tape
• A bottle for water to clean her brushes
• A stack of 10 pastels
• A jar of ink
• 3 watercolors
• A notebook
• Blotter paper
• A few other objects I’m not sure what they are
• A small wooden box that I’m not sure what is in it

All of these supplies were selected for a very specific painting. A few days ago, her desk looked completely different, with completely different supplies on it for a different project.

Clearing her workspace and setting it up for a single project is another way to not feel overwhelmed in knowing what to create and preparing to do so. To have total clarity when you show up to create, because there is only one obvious thing in front of you, and all of your needed tools are right there. (You can follow my wife on Instagram!) Here is a sampling of some of her projects:

As a writer, I have done this by:

• Assigning a specific time and place for writing. For example: I would plan to write while at Starbucks at a certain time.
• I would clear my laptop desktop of all files, then add back in just one: the writing I wanted to work on.
• I would turn off internet when I started so that I couldn’t be distracted by email, social media, or an excuse to “do research” instead of actually write.
• I would bring headphones and have a specific playlist ready so that the music became another encouragement to focus.

When it comes to how you share your work and connect with others, a similar ethos applies. What if, instead of scrolling endlessly on social media, you opened it with an intention to create one meaningful interaction with someone you follow? What if you only followed those who inspired you, whittling down those you subscribe to or follow?

So often, people treat their social media the same way they treat their email inbox: it becomes their news source, their shopping source, their to-do list, how they stay connected with anyone they ever met, where they conduct business, where they find entertainment, and so much more.

For whatever channels you show up in to share your writing and creative work, what if you made them have a specific purpose? Where you only wanted to connect with those who inspire you, and where you can engage with readers.

Honor your boundaries

Okay, I saved the most important one for last: honor your boundaries. So this is a three step process:

1. Have boundaries.
2. Uphold your boundaries.
3. Recognize and celebrate when you do so.

Boundaries are critical for a sense of personal safety, and for supporting mental health. But they can also help you decide a sense of overwhelm in how you create and share.

There are a million variations of this, but here are a couple just to illustrate the point for how you can connect with others through what you share:

• Celebrate one person each day on social media, and explain why they inspire you. Then close social media.
• Send one gratitude email each day. Email is such a powerful way to connect with others, especially one-on-one.
• Take people inside your creative process each day, and encourage them to share their own. There was a period where I wrote first thing each day, and took a photo of myself showing up to write and shared it on social media. I received so much feedback from others that this helped inspire them to create. This created more accountability for my own creative process, and gave me more opportunity to talk about what I write and why.

Are there ways that you have managed your process to feel less overwhelmed as you create and share? Let me know in the comments.

Thank you for being here with me.
-Dan