Playing it Smart and Calm

PETERMBALL Writing Advice - Business & the Writing Life , ,

One question I keep coming back to right now is “what does it mean to approach the pandemic in a calm way, as an artist? How do we play it smart?”

Because calm is going to be a valuable commodity for the next few months, as writers and artists of every stripe pivot and adapt. Everyone seemed to launch sales at the start of the pandemic, a knee jerk response to try and stimulate interest in the face of everyone getting hit with financial anxiety at the same time.

But sales are a tactic, not a strategy, and they’ll only last so long. Especially when the sales are pitched as “the ass has just dropped out of our industry, so support us if you want this all to continue,” which is largely speaking to a) your existing fans who, b) want you to continue, and c) are likely to be motivated by a discounted price.

The really interesting responses to the pandemic will start emerging in the next few weeks, as folks lean into what gets them interested in writing to start with and how it can be hacked to fit the state of the world.

Interesting case study, on this front: Alan Baxter leaning into Twitter as a storytelling medium to connect with his readership. You can read the entire thing over on his blog, but it loses a little something with the transition. To get the full effect, go read the story in the twitter thread that starts with this post:

https://twitter.com/AlanBaxter/status/1247844822833979392

This thread is a thing of beauty, but it’s particularly impressive when you consider Al’s day job as a martial arts instructor has been decimated by pandemic shutdowns.

Far better than any sale announcement, it focuses back on core strategies for storytelling, delivering a kick-ass tale that entertains the readers, plays to the strengths of his medium, and serves as an amuse-bouche that gives a taste of his style and mindset before suggesting that there’s more out there if you’d like to track it down.

Gods, I miss drinking right now.

PETERMBALL Journal ,

A few years back I went through a bad time, psychologically speaking, and my doctor quietly pointed out my tendencies towards depression and anxiety, then suggested a series of treatments that might get me back on an even keel.

We cycled through the usual suite of pharmaceutical treatments, discovered I had an adverse reaction to most SSRI inhibitors, and eventually settled on a serotonin drug that’s a) hideously expensive on my monthly salary, and b) will make my liver pop like a balloon if I get funky and mix it with booze.

All in all, it was a good motivation to do the hard yards in counselling to get a handle on things and get off the antidepressants. Then 2019 hit, and my toolkit for coping wasn’t quite up to the task, and when my partner quietly suggested that my mental healthy might be suffering I went back to the GP and signed up for a fresh prescription.

Now it’s 2020. The personal shitstorm of 2019 has given way to a global shitstorm of epic proportions.

And the antidepressants help. A whole fucking lot. As evidenced by the days where I take them and get shit done, versus the few days where I forgot and ended up having panic attacks over email.

Basically, compared to the relief that mainlining scotch might offer right now, there is no real measurable advantage to the booze.

But years of cultural indoctrination trains the brain to think that drinking is the right response to a crisis, and the idiotic monkey brain keeps pondering whether it would all be a little easier if I could embrace the hardboiled detective aesthetic. Pour a drink and stand at a rain-slicked window, peering out at a world gone made through the vertical blinds.

Some days, it’s hard to escape the feeling we are an incredibly clever fucking species who have trained ourselves for idiocy for the sake of aesthetics.