Do More Of What Your Readers Value

The fundamental theory of building a career in the arts is simple: find something you enjoy creating that other people value. 

Then, do that thing. 

If you do it well enough, and often enough, it’s not just the thing you create that holds value — your name accumulates cultural value, and your work has a certain core audience willing to follow you from thing to thing.

The trick when you’re starting out is figuring out what you enjoy doing, what you’re good at, and what your readers truly value. 

The trick in the middle of your career is figuring out where your work has accumulated value, and whether the limits it places upon you are worth the rewards.

The trick at the end of your career is feeling satisfied by the creative choices you make, and content with the rewards you earned (and the amount of work you’re leaving unfinished). 

POD, Publishing Mad Science, and White Mugs

Two years ago, when I first two my business plan for Brain Jar 2.0, one of my long-term goals was taking the philosophy we used to create books and use it to find other places for written work to exist. Webcomics and artists had been monetizing their art with merchandise for years at that point, and print-on-demand merchandising systems like Redbubble had flourished. 

It’s taken me a bit to move on the idea because, frankly, the learning curve and the technology weren’t really at the place I wanted it to be for the audience size I was working with. Much as I love Redbubble and the artist friends who sell there, the lack of integration with other storefronts presented a problem for me — putting merch on Redbubble means pushing people to Redbubble, and 2020 was basically a long exercise in figuring out how important direct sales could be. Other services offered better integration, but were location-centric in a way that wasn’t useful; they could service clients in Europe or American at a reasonable price, but shipping POD products to Australia was…well, prohibitive.

But the nice thing about the new job is having the spoons to dig and research/try stuff out, rather than staring at my to-do list in abject horror. Over the last few weeks, I dug into POD merch options and found a place that actually ticked all the boxes I had around POD products. And since Eclectic Projects exists to try out stuff, serving as Brain Jar’s R&D, I’ve been testing just what I can do with flash fictions, my beloved Futura font, and a plain white mug.

Of course, the point of doing something like this isn’t “oh look, I’m going to sell a billion of these.” The point is to do it, and figure out just how simple it is, because once I’ve got a handle on it there’s so many interesting possibilities. A huge number of writers have a vast back catalogue of pithy, interesting ideas under their belts that they haven’t even thought about monetising (I refer, of course, to Twitter feeds and Facebook Feeds and even Instagram images, plus short forms like poetry and flash fiction); the speed of something like a mug is quick, compared to producing a book, so it’s possible to take something that’s got attention today and offer a product based on it within the space of a few hours.

And, of course, we all have books that are full of pithy, interesting pull quotes that might sound interesting out of context. Books that can suddenly have merch once we wrap our head around the idea, and start thinking about what the world looks like when that’s built into our business model as creators…

The 5-2 Focus List

So here’s a neat variation on the to-do list I’ve picked up from Mark Foster’s Secrets of Productive People, where he replaces what I have to get done with what I’m going to focus on as the primary entries on your notepad.

The process goes like this:

Step One: Put five tasks you want to give your focus to on a sheet of paper. Works best with a mix of complex and simple tasks, but you do you, etc.

Step Two: Work down the list in order. You don’t have to finish a task, just do something to progress it. Then:

  • If you start a task and don’t finish it, cross the first entry off and add it to the bottom of your list. 
  • If you finish a task, just cross it off.

Step Three: Keep going through the tasks in order until you’ve whittled the list down to two, then add three new tasks to the end and repeat this process for the rest of the day. 

Foster argues that five is the optimal starting length because it’s just long enough to pull your forward, without feeling like you can achieve everything without putting in effort. 

The structure of the list means you’re often making small amounts of progress at a regular interval, rather than doing long stretches of work at once, so it’s both less intimidating to start and more likely to accumulate more work than you would have done. 

IN PRACTICE

For those who don’t want to read my scribble in the photograph above, here’s what that looked like on 19 June.

I started the day with five tasks, pulled from my master-list of projects and tasks on Asana:

  • Finish reading Secrets of Productive People
  • Write 250 words on the now overdue Knock, Knock part two
  • Do my quarterly checkpoint
  • Clear the dishes
  • Clean and reorganise my desk

In my first cycle, I finished writing 250 words and cleared all the dishes, but merely made progress on the other three tasks. As I finished work, they got added to the end of the list (And while I list 250 words, the actual goal on my asana is “write 750 words”, and so it’s actually a thing I repeat three times).

Ergo, my “round two” list features four repeats, and one new action: 

  • Finish reading Secrets of Productive People
  • Write another 250 words on the now overdue Knock, Knock part two
  • Do my quarterly checkpoint
  • Clean and reorganise my desk
  • Fix the bit of our door the cat’s damaged.

This time around, I crushed it—I finished my reading, the writnig goal, and my checkpoint with no need for a third entry, so as I hit cleaning the desk and fixing the door, I got to add another three targets: 

  • Clean and reorganise my desk
  • Fix the bit of our door the cat’s damage
  • Draft a “would you like to do the introduction to this collection” letter that was causing me some serious anxiety
  • Print the manuscript I have to do a cover synopsis for and proof this week
  • Write another 250 words

This time around, I not only finished everything, but I overshot on some (reorganising my desk also led to experimenting my webcam set-up, so my spouse doesn’t risk walking into shot; writing the letter that was causing me anxiety quickly became proofing and sending it).

I would have done another five, but I was heading out to dinner with my sister at the end of the day, so I settled for one last entry before signing out. 

That might not seem like a lot for a Sunday, but lots of those were several-hours long jobs. Cleaning the desk means literally pulling everything off and wiping it down with antiseptic wipes, and I read about 75% of the book in one day. Even the writing, which basically involved hitting my average daily word count, was breaking a month-log failure to work on creative projects. Ordinarily, I’d have celebrated getting one of these done on a Sunday.

And it’s not like these are all I did in the day—they were just the focus. I squeezed little things in around the edges, like prepping today’s Facebook posts, and did a couple of “task of opportunity” jobs when I was stuck on how to progress.

Yesterday’s success using a focus-oriented to-do list, rather than a list of tasks, is possibly the only reason I left my quarterly ambitions as aggressive as they were. It gave me hope this eclectic mix of stuff would be achievable in the small windows of time I’ve got around the day job. 

Today, the results are promising: I’ve been struggling with mornings a bit of late, and what is essentially my two-or-three hour window for getting writing and publishing work done gets frittered away without making progress on social media tasks or becomes annoyingly focused on either writing or publishing tasks (to the detriment of the other half). 

Today’s the first day in a long while that I’ve hit my writing word-count, progressed Brain Jar tasks, and actually done my “exist in public as a writer” work (incidentally, “make coffee” isn’t the first coffee of the day—it’s my reminder to make my spouse a coffee right before they wake).

Read more: Secrets of Productive People