If what you’re doing has a slim shot of success, then you’d better really love it to cope with the odds.
At some point, early on, art shouldn’t be made with marketing in mind. It shouldn’t be made because the thumbnail or title sound alluring. It shouldn’t be made because it’s massively attractive content. Every artist stares at a blank page and marvels at its ominousness.
When the numbers start to matter: upload consistency, projected views, money, the time and energy that could have been used to make art now are spent on creating frivolous content.
Content.
Content can be good, enticing, entertaining, but it doesn’t tilt life how art does. After I read The Name of the Wind I became devoted to writing fantasy, something I love. After I saw David Dobrik’s vlogs, I cut my edits a bit snappier. After I watched The Try Guys, I continued to watch The Try Guys.
(And I love David and The Try Guys!)
Disclaimer: I’m not smart enough to know if content is entirely bad, so I’m not saying that.
Finding vocation is something I always come back to. Here’s my question: When I was writing exactly what came out, in my room, not sharing it, was I more in line with my vocation than I am now?
Did building an audience (a very hard thing—trust me I get like 3 views.) cost me too much writing time and flip my scene into content creating over writing? It definitely has.
Here’s your question:
At the end, would you rather look back on a mass of content that doesn’t mean much or a few handfuls of truly special pieces of art you love?