This is probably honestly the hardest part of being a creative, for me. Especially when comparison is the thief of joy. I write books for other people and publishers that do ridiculously well - thousands of reviews, which can only mean so many more readers - and then I see my own books paling next to them. It's difficult, very difficult, to step back and remember that I was once thrilled and relieved to find that more than one person had read my first book. Every single one of them counts, every time. And I know, deeply, that absolutely none of this would matter to me if I had enough money to live on forever - maybe an inheritance or a lottery win - and never needed to make a particular amount from book sales to live; then I would just go on writing and not care as much whether there was 1 person in the room with me or 1 million.
Rhiannon, you are in a uniquely tormented circumstance and I can’t imagine how you cope with it. It’s almost as though you’re Cyrano, writing lover letters for ham-fisted goons to make an unsuspecting audience swoon. More than anyone else I know, you must truly love the craft of writing for its own reward. Thanks for sharing your experience here. Keep going. Keep putting your work out there with your name on it.
Oh, Ben. So much truth and shared experience here for me.
My entire life has been a cycle of falling in love with an art, devoting myself to it completely, making a bit of headway only to lose twice as much ground, until I become so bitter and resentful of the thing for breaking my heart over and over again, I eventually abandon it. My fear, as of late, is that it's starting to happen with my writing. I've lost the piece of that relationship that was just for "me" - and I've been trying very hard to ignore the "everyone else" piece so I can try to rekindle the spark I had a year ago for all this madness. Wish me luck?
I totally get you. Whenever I get like that, the best thing for me to do is to make something completely impractical and esoteric that I would never be tempted to put out into the world. Often it’s enough to just remind me how much joy I get from just making things.
This is exactly what I need to do. Write something and NOT share it. Or at the very least not share it YET. It's been so long since I let myself write without the intention of putting the thing in front of the people once it's done and therefore letting the people sort of dictate what the thing will turn out to be. Hoping to get some of that rebellious fuck-all writing fuel back in the near future. Honestly, taking a break from reading EVERYONE and commenting on EVERYTHING has freed up a considerable amount of space in my brain. Now it's just a matter of setting aside the physical time to put ideas to page.
These are hard questions but important ones. I think the answer to your last question is perhaps where we can find what we need to move forward. That is, I guess the small things - music, nature, movement, creating, teaching someone something - make me feel better than a lot of people buying my book. It's just that you want the numbers so you can keep privileging the small stuff. However, perhaps there are a few different ways to get there and sometimes you can get the harmony just right...
I love it when I find some of my favorite writers hanging out in the same Substack.
My vocation as a writer is a second career for me so perhaps I have the good fortune of starting with no experience or expectation of artistic success. What Kathleen (Kate?!) wrote implies a sense of balance between artistic endeavor and other aspects of life. A diversification of self-esteem and satisfaction. I think that helps with playing to a room less crowded than we'd all like.
It is the single biggest blessing for me to have so many of these wonderfully talented humans to exchange ideas with every week. Thanks for being here David.
I hear you! I struggle with these feelings too, especially with my much smaller and newer stack. You’re right that the only thing to do is concentrate on the work.
But creatives also need to do *something* to get the work in front of the right audience, which is so distracting from, and even contradictory to, the main thing. I don’t know what the solution to that is. Keep on keeping on!
Totally agree, Larry. That’s the rub. You do have to indulge in a fair amount of hustle to help an audience find you. The trick is finding balance, I think.
Oh, Ben, this is a salve for the wounded ego, a fresh breeze for the soul. These, in particular, resonated, both for the pure wisdom and for the clever turns of phrase:
"It’s a questionable life choice if you’re a sensitive type like me who’s shy and doesn’t want to make a fuss, but also desperately desires validation from and connection with others."
"The problem with this defense mechanism is that you wield it by the blade, not the handle and as a result, cut yourself to ribbons."
"It just takes one pure connection for the magic that makes art to work."
"The work is what matters. It’s the only thing we can control."
"Playing for an empty room is now just playing. Playing doesn’t cost anything. It doesn’t require permission or approval from anyone. It only requires my willingness."
I'm so glad we're connected here and grateful for your work.
Thanks so much, Julie. I value your writing and friendship in this space. It matters so much to have connections like this. Thank you for all your encouragement.
I had to do exactly the same with film Ben. Festivals, YouTube premieres, private screenings… oh how the fantasy never comes close to the reality, sometimes only a handful of people (ie. the cast!) showing up for a screening. But there is always ONE person who connects to the message or story and I started noticing how much I dismissed that ONE person because they weren’t MANY, though their message was sincere and heartfelt. It’s been quite a cool experience to feel how Substack encourages/attracts humans who value offering feedback, so even if it’s only one comment, it can be quite revelatory, encouraging and nourishing…
I can’t imagine how different the stakes are with making a film. When I show up with my guitar to perform in a room, it’s a pretty low production cost. When you spend months or years making a film and no one shows up, it’s got to be pretty heartbreaking. Thanks for sharing your experience.
I was once in an almost empty room at the Kennedy Center for Oscar Petersen--if you can believe that: true. I feel way too often that I write into a void and get some comfort here. So you have one person and more here to read this fine writing.
Unbelievable but honestly not surprising. Jazz musicians spend much of their professional lives playing to mostly empty rooms or in the corner of a restaurant during brunch. Thanks for reading, Mary!
I remember being told a long time ago that the key to a good birthday is low expectations, and I’ve had incredible birthdays ever since. I think you nailed it here, Ben. I sometimes wonder whether the messaging around ‘you can have / do anything’ is, at least in part, proliferated so that we can be sold things to numb the discomfort of believing that, but not manifesting it. The best cure I’ve ever found for angst or hopelessness is being of service to a being in need. Likes are nice, but not all validation is equal. I think that offering yourself, your process, in the way that you do to your audience is courageous and generous, and I think it has probably done more good than you’ll ever know.
Your answer to this resonates so deeply with who you are and how you live your life in service to others, Chloe. Every post you publish on Death & Birds shines a little more light into the darkest corners of all our hearts.
Ha! “Hello, this post is about Death & Birds. This week I parked my car like an asshole and then made a mess of the kitchen and went to bed without tidying it…” 😬
As someone who 100% has played a show to an empty room, the mindset you describe is a necessity— it has to be about your own satisfaction and joy. And thankfully you can take that attitude with you and, speaking personally, be a little more loose, have a little more fun, etc. (After working through crushing disappointment & questioning all your decisions, of course.) My favorite quote is— “when you have no expectations, everything is a gift.” It can’t be about who shows up.
Ben, I read this when you first published it and have thought of it much since. This line stuck with me: "It’s a questionable life choice if you’re a sensitive type like me who’s shy and doesn’t want to make a fuss, but also desperately desires validation from and connection with others." I get stuck on the idea of art for art's sake. Yes, it's true that I write, create, whatever the creative project in question is for the sake of doing it. Yes, I'd do it if every room I played to was empty other than my own heart--I think. And I'd be lying to myself if I said that's the only reason. Do I seek the validation that comes from others seeing and resonating with what I'm putting out there? For sure. Do I want to be able to make a living at what feels the work of a lifetime and, thus, "need" validation in a monetary form? Yep. And also, the connection piece is huge. That's not JUST because I want to connect with others whose interpretations of this world we're walking through together resonate with me, change me, open me, challenge me and to share my interpretations with them (I very much do). It's also because (and I think this is the crux of the thing) that connection, as much as anything else, transforms what and how I create. Playing to a room with even a heart or two vibrating to what I'm playing changes the playing in a way that feels critical to my own heart and its output.
Thanks, once again, for a piece that moved me to contemplation. Glad to be in your audience, my friend.
It's a cross a lot of artists die on, this notion that an artist should expect no reward beyond the art itself, that to do otherwise somehow taints you and the work. It's an unfair standard to be held to that no other vocation demands. I think we artists often propagate the art for art's sake idea simply because there can be so little actual connection or reward from the larger world.
Anyway, thanks for the lovely comment. I'm glad this piece resonated with you in a deeper way. Thanks for being here, Holly.
So much of this resonates, Ben, thank you for sharing. I recently listened to an interview with Alain de Botton and he spoke directly to this part you wrote: “I was born and raised in a country of extreme privilege and indoctrinated with the belief that you can be anything you want.” The particular Americanness of this problem, and the vast disappointment it sets up for. The sense of failure in what would not be seen as failing from another perspective. A desire for extraordinariness and wild success.
Perhaps a redefining of success is what will remind us the room is not empty. Playing to even the one person who connected with our art, as you suggested. Remembering that it’s the creating and the connecting that matters to the artist’s spirit, and the rest is incidental and out of our control.
Well said. That’s exactly how I feel about all this. To live a healthier life, it’s critical to recalibrate our expectations of “success” and seek to discover what it is that actually makes us feel happy and valued. It can’t be likes or subscribers or the balance in a bank account.
Great post, Ben - "success" is such a fundamental but flawed aspect of making art - and life - that as a society we are still floundering around with (that "lottery" you speak of.) Standing in front of a mass of people, clapping or otherwise, is a vision of hell to me - my hope for success was always to write myself into a cozy little study with a fire in the hearth, a dog at my feet, a garden peeping in through the window, and a wizard pouring tea and telling me stories about "the wide world." (At least I've got the dog. :)
This is enormously honest Ben, your words are a soothing balm filled with poignancy and truths I think every one of us can relate to in some small way.
"It just takes one pure connection for the magic that makes art to work."
I cannot answer you questions other than by requoting your words, thank you for all of them.
What I really honestly liked about this was, do not get in your own way. I am trying a venture again. Last time it was a partial success. There was spectacular drama caused by others. Many things are different this go round, so having some faith.
Hi Leomhann, so sorry to have missed replying to your earlier. Wishing you the best of luck in the second go round. Thanks for reading the piece and contributing to the conversation.
This is probably honestly the hardest part of being a creative, for me. Especially when comparison is the thief of joy. I write books for other people and publishers that do ridiculously well - thousands of reviews, which can only mean so many more readers - and then I see my own books paling next to them. It's difficult, very difficult, to step back and remember that I was once thrilled and relieved to find that more than one person had read my first book. Every single one of them counts, every time. And I know, deeply, that absolutely none of this would matter to me if I had enough money to live on forever - maybe an inheritance or a lottery win - and never needed to make a particular amount from book sales to live; then I would just go on writing and not care as much whether there was 1 person in the room with me or 1 million.
Rhiannon, you are in a uniquely tormented circumstance and I can’t imagine how you cope with it. It’s almost as though you’re Cyrano, writing lover letters for ham-fisted goons to make an unsuspecting audience swoon. More than anyone else I know, you must truly love the craft of writing for its own reward. Thanks for sharing your experience here. Keep going. Keep putting your work out there with your name on it.
The craft of writing for its own reward is certainly it! I went on maternity leave from ghostwriting and wrote another book instead of resting 🫣
Oh, Ben. So much truth and shared experience here for me.
My entire life has been a cycle of falling in love with an art, devoting myself to it completely, making a bit of headway only to lose twice as much ground, until I become so bitter and resentful of the thing for breaking my heart over and over again, I eventually abandon it. My fear, as of late, is that it's starting to happen with my writing. I've lost the piece of that relationship that was just for "me" - and I've been trying very hard to ignore the "everyone else" piece so I can try to rekindle the spark I had a year ago for all this madness. Wish me luck?
I totally get you. Whenever I get like that, the best thing for me to do is to make something completely impractical and esoteric that I would never be tempted to put out into the world. Often it’s enough to just remind me how much joy I get from just making things.
This is exactly what I need to do. Write something and NOT share it. Or at the very least not share it YET. It's been so long since I let myself write without the intention of putting the thing in front of the people once it's done and therefore letting the people sort of dictate what the thing will turn out to be. Hoping to get some of that rebellious fuck-all writing fuel back in the near future. Honestly, taking a break from reading EVERYONE and commenting on EVERYTHING has freed up a considerable amount of space in my brain. Now it's just a matter of setting aside the physical time to put ideas to page.
These are hard questions but important ones. I think the answer to your last question is perhaps where we can find what we need to move forward. That is, I guess the small things - music, nature, movement, creating, teaching someone something - make me feel better than a lot of people buying my book. It's just that you want the numbers so you can keep privileging the small stuff. However, perhaps there are a few different ways to get there and sometimes you can get the harmony just right...
That’s a wonderful and healthy perspective, Kate. I find all these things helpful too. Thanks for reading and sharing your experience.
I love it when I find some of my favorite writers hanging out in the same Substack.
My vocation as a writer is a second career for me so perhaps I have the good fortune of starting with no experience or expectation of artistic success. What Kathleen (Kate?!) wrote implies a sense of balance between artistic endeavor and other aspects of life. A diversification of self-esteem and satisfaction. I think that helps with playing to a room less crowded than we'd all like.
It is the single biggest blessing for me to have so many of these wonderfully talented humans to exchange ideas with every week. Thanks for being here David.
I hear you! I struggle with these feelings too, especially with my much smaller and newer stack. You’re right that the only thing to do is concentrate on the work.
But creatives also need to do *something* to get the work in front of the right audience, which is so distracting from, and even contradictory to, the main thing. I don’t know what the solution to that is. Keep on keeping on!
Totally agree, Larry. That’s the rub. You do have to indulge in a fair amount of hustle to help an audience find you. The trick is finding balance, I think.
Oh, Ben, this is a salve for the wounded ego, a fresh breeze for the soul. These, in particular, resonated, both for the pure wisdom and for the clever turns of phrase:
"It’s a questionable life choice if you’re a sensitive type like me who’s shy and doesn’t want to make a fuss, but also desperately desires validation from and connection with others."
"The problem with this defense mechanism is that you wield it by the blade, not the handle and as a result, cut yourself to ribbons."
"It just takes one pure connection for the magic that makes art to work."
"The work is what matters. It’s the only thing we can control."
"Playing for an empty room is now just playing. Playing doesn’t cost anything. It doesn’t require permission or approval from anyone. It only requires my willingness."
I'm so glad we're connected here and grateful for your work.
Thanks so much, Julie. I value your writing and friendship in this space. It matters so much to have connections like this. Thank you for all your encouragement.
I had to do exactly the same with film Ben. Festivals, YouTube premieres, private screenings… oh how the fantasy never comes close to the reality, sometimes only a handful of people (ie. the cast!) showing up for a screening. But there is always ONE person who connects to the message or story and I started noticing how much I dismissed that ONE person because they weren’t MANY, though their message was sincere and heartfelt. It’s been quite a cool experience to feel how Substack encourages/attracts humans who value offering feedback, so even if it’s only one comment, it can be quite revelatory, encouraging and nourishing…
I can’t imagine how different the stakes are with making a film. When I show up with my guitar to perform in a room, it’s a pretty low production cost. When you spend months or years making a film and no one shows up, it’s got to be pretty heartbreaking. Thanks for sharing your experience.
Yeah, my first short film certainly had some heartbreaking moments with visions of a Sofia Coppola career still dancing in my head. ;)
Thank you Ben. 🤘
Maybe it takes someone who has played an empty room to truly show up as the One Person in someone else’s.
Yup, and EVERYONE has played to an empty room at some point.
In a word, gratitude.
Yes, so simple and yet so hard sometimes.
I was once in an almost empty room at the Kennedy Center for Oscar Petersen--if you can believe that: true. I feel way too often that I write into a void and get some comfort here. So you have one person and more here to read this fine writing.
Unbelievable but honestly not surprising. Jazz musicians spend much of their professional lives playing to mostly empty rooms or in the corner of a restaurant during brunch. Thanks for reading, Mary!
I remember being told a long time ago that the key to a good birthday is low expectations, and I’ve had incredible birthdays ever since. I think you nailed it here, Ben. I sometimes wonder whether the messaging around ‘you can have / do anything’ is, at least in part, proliferated so that we can be sold things to numb the discomfort of believing that, but not manifesting it. The best cure I’ve ever found for angst or hopelessness is being of service to a being in need. Likes are nice, but not all validation is equal. I think that offering yourself, your process, in the way that you do to your audience is courageous and generous, and I think it has probably done more good than you’ll ever know.
Your answer to this resonates so deeply with who you are and how you live your life in service to others, Chloe. Every post you publish on Death & Birds shines a little more light into the darkest corners of all our hearts.
You’re far too kind, Ben. I can assure you that when I’m not tending to birds or people at the end of their lives I am enormously selfish :)
Right…. So what ever do you do with that 5 minutes a day?! That should be the subject of your next post.
Ha! “Hello, this post is about Death & Birds. This week I parked my car like an asshole and then made a mess of the kitchen and went to bed without tidying it…” 😬
That’s brutal. I’m not sure how you live with yourself.
It's poor David that has to live with me!
As someone who 100% has played a show to an empty room, the mindset you describe is a necessity— it has to be about your own satisfaction and joy. And thankfully you can take that attitude with you and, speaking personally, be a little more loose, have a little more fun, etc. (After working through crushing disappointment & questioning all your decisions, of course.) My favorite quote is— “when you have no expectations, everything is a gift.” It can’t be about who shows up.
That’s beautifully put, Chris. Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts.
Ben, I read this when you first published it and have thought of it much since. This line stuck with me: "It’s a questionable life choice if you’re a sensitive type like me who’s shy and doesn’t want to make a fuss, but also desperately desires validation from and connection with others." I get stuck on the idea of art for art's sake. Yes, it's true that I write, create, whatever the creative project in question is for the sake of doing it. Yes, I'd do it if every room I played to was empty other than my own heart--I think. And I'd be lying to myself if I said that's the only reason. Do I seek the validation that comes from others seeing and resonating with what I'm putting out there? For sure. Do I want to be able to make a living at what feels the work of a lifetime and, thus, "need" validation in a monetary form? Yep. And also, the connection piece is huge. That's not JUST because I want to connect with others whose interpretations of this world we're walking through together resonate with me, change me, open me, challenge me and to share my interpretations with them (I very much do). It's also because (and I think this is the crux of the thing) that connection, as much as anything else, transforms what and how I create. Playing to a room with even a heart or two vibrating to what I'm playing changes the playing in a way that feels critical to my own heart and its output.
Thanks, once again, for a piece that moved me to contemplation. Glad to be in your audience, my friend.
It's a cross a lot of artists die on, this notion that an artist should expect no reward beyond the art itself, that to do otherwise somehow taints you and the work. It's an unfair standard to be held to that no other vocation demands. I think we artists often propagate the art for art's sake idea simply because there can be so little actual connection or reward from the larger world.
Anyway, thanks for the lovely comment. I'm glad this piece resonated with you in a deeper way. Thanks for being here, Holly.
So much of this resonates, Ben, thank you for sharing. I recently listened to an interview with Alain de Botton and he spoke directly to this part you wrote: “I was born and raised in a country of extreme privilege and indoctrinated with the belief that you can be anything you want.” The particular Americanness of this problem, and the vast disappointment it sets up for. The sense of failure in what would not be seen as failing from another perspective. A desire for extraordinariness and wild success.
Perhaps a redefining of success is what will remind us the room is not empty. Playing to even the one person who connected with our art, as you suggested. Remembering that it’s the creating and the connecting that matters to the artist’s spirit, and the rest is incidental and out of our control.
Well said. That’s exactly how I feel about all this. To live a healthier life, it’s critical to recalibrate our expectations of “success” and seek to discover what it is that actually makes us feel happy and valued. It can’t be likes or subscribers or the balance in a bank account.
Great post, Ben - "success" is such a fundamental but flawed aspect of making art - and life - that as a society we are still floundering around with (that "lottery" you speak of.) Standing in front of a mass of people, clapping or otherwise, is a vision of hell to me - my hope for success was always to write myself into a cozy little study with a fire in the hearth, a dog at my feet, a garden peeping in through the window, and a wizard pouring tea and telling me stories about "the wide world." (At least I've got the dog. :)
This is me active volunteering to move to Spain and be your wizard tea walla. Thanks for reading and commenting, Troy.
Kettle's on, cookies baking... ❤️
This is enormously honest Ben, your words are a soothing balm filled with poignancy and truths I think every one of us can relate to in some small way.
"It just takes one pure connection for the magic that makes art to work."
I cannot answer you questions other than by requoting your words, thank you for all of them.
Thank you, Susie. I’m glad this one was relatable and somewhat helpful. I appreciate you reading and commenting.
What I really honestly liked about this was, do not get in your own way. I am trying a venture again. Last time it was a partial success. There was spectacular drama caused by others. Many things are different this go round, so having some faith.
I can use your advice here and grateful!
Hi Leomhann, so sorry to have missed replying to your earlier. Wishing you the best of luck in the second go round. Thanks for reading the piece and contributing to the conversation.