Pursuits Without Purpose
Coming to grips with writing for all the wrong reasons
Substack has been coming for my throat over this last week, from the moment I registered my account to moments before starting this post.
I don’t mean that in the sense that there is any drama like one would see on any of the insipid social media channels that have becoming increasingly bloated with vanity, strife, and monetization. I also don’t mean in the sense that the platform itself has decided to make things unnecessarily complicated or contentious (can you tell I like it here?).
I mean that I have been hit with wave after wave of meaningful, thoughtful content speaking directly into my circumstances, convicting me of my shortcomings, and correcting my misconceptions. I want to tell you, dear reader, some of these insights and what they may mean for my future as a writer.
Writing About Too Much and Nothing At All
A piece of advice I have seen repeatedly on here, usually in regard to growing one’s readership, is to identify your purpose in writing. Figure out what you’re trying to say and who you want to say it to, then stick with it.
But I have struggled my entire life against specificity. I claimed the title of “jack-of-all-trades” early and have clung to it as my old standard. This is largely due to fear, and the things we fear most are the things we think are true.
Do I fear failure? Nah. To spectacularly fail at something is still something spectacular.
I fear mediocrity.
I have always envied those who are really excellent at something, and to compete with them, I’ve tried to embrace being only okay at a myriad of different things. It’s permitting myself to be the mediocre I fear without shame or frustration. My superpower is breadth, not depth.
It’s funny how this mindset has pervaded all aspects of my life, even my gaming habits. If the game is Resident Evil, I want the shotgun, not the sniper rifle. In Smash Bros., I want to play everybody in the roster, not a main. I naturally gravitate towards games with large casts and low difficulty ceilings, like Hyrule Warriors. Extrapolate from this what you will.
But here’s the thing: just because I can do a bunch of different things doesn’t make me entertaining to read, watch, or hear. Expertise, precision, and consistency are much greater draws than a mixed bag with a nice persona. If people are going to seek out someone to listen to on a subject, they’re typically going to pick the “limited” expert and not the dude who knows a little bit about it plus a little bit about a hundred other things.
When it comes to my various attempts at social media, blogs, and more, I’ve always gone in with the intention of creating content about everything that interests me, because I am only interesting due to the sum of my many parts. “People will like my channel/page/project because it’s so varied.”
This strategy does not build an invested audience. My most successful piece of content I’ve ever made was a YouTube tutorial teaching people how to play TTRPGs alone using the MUNE System. It was niche. It was specific. It served a purpose. It was a decent video that got some small praise from a few friends and strangers alike.
But in keeping with my history as a Former Gifted Kid™, I have seldom (if ever) stuck with any endeavor at which I wasn’t immediately resoundingly successful. I didn’t become a viral success over night, so I didn’t make another video on that account for nearly two years.
That brings us nicely to the fact that I have been…
Writing for the Wrong Reasons
You may have gathered from the segment above that my attempts at posting content online, whether in the form of videos, pictures, or writings, have all been in the name of personal gain.
When I was a teacher, I taught my students about the 3 Es of Art. Art is created with one or more of the following purposes:
Expression – to take the inward and externalize it creatively
Entertainment – to capture attention and provoke a cathartic emotional response
Education – to share a message and leave the viewer with new information or growth
Notice that “fame and fortune” didn’t make the list. Obviously, there are those who seek selfish ambitions within artistic fields, but I would argue that the works produced by such people are artistically shallow.
I have never wanted widescale fame, and I’m only interested in fortune up to the point of having the necessities paid for without fear of debt collectors. But I am hungry for success. I yearn to be heard and liked, noticed and praised.
Even in my walk with Christ, I strive in my faith because one day I want to hear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” I’m so afraid that I’m only doing this because I want “dad’s approval.”
I constantly ask God to correct me, but what if it’s just because I want the satisfaction of being right, not because I want to be reconciled?
But another piece of Substack advice that has bruised my ego is that to succeed, you need to not worry about success. It’s like The Game. You’re only winning when you’re not thinking about it. (By the way, you’ve lost The Game and I’m so sorry.)
Making art purely for a pat on the back robs the artwork, the artist, and the audience of true vulnerability and authenticity.
So which is it? Do I write something specific so I can fill a niche and find my people? Or do I write without regard to success but instead to fulfill a purpose?
The answer is both. Both is good.
It’s a matter of arranging the carts and the horses in the proper order. And for me, that order is this:
Writing as an Act of Service
My educational and professional background is in theatre and entertainment. I have long held that being an entertainer is part of the service industry because you have to consider the wants and needs of your audience over your own ego and, sometimes, comfort. Service requires humility, and humility requires sacrifice. Specifically, the sacrifice of self-importance.
Too long have I created content in the pursuit of approval and attention when instead I could be creating content in order to serve others. My videos and blogs and such have all been firmly rooted in, “Well, I want people to listen to me ramble about the things I think are cool and then tell me how quirky and lovable I am.” If you’re reading that and thinking it doesn’t sound like me, I am pleased that my vanity is not so outwardly evident, but it sadly is an accurate representation.
Instead of all that, what if creating art looked more like, “How can God be glorified here? How can artistry edify the church? How can the Spirit reach and serve others through my artwork?” And it’s this epiphany that I think is going to revolutionize how I write.
Where I have once written for myself and some metric of success, I now want to write with purpose and intent. I want to bend my efforts toward specificity and quality. I want to write because it’s what God has commanded me to do, and obeying Him is the best way for me to show Him love.
So What’s the Purpose of This Post?
Fair question.
It’s to express to you the thoughts and struggles I’ve had in hopes of making a connection with you.
It’s to entertain your attention with the craftsmanship of the written word in hopes of giving you a sense of satisfaction or pleasure.
It’s to educate you on the pitfalls of selfish endeavors so that you may grow and improve.
What’s the Purpose of This Substack?
In all transparency, I don’t fully know yet.
This publication could stay the same as it is now, a collage of my thoughts, stories, and life updates, just with tweaks to the motivation behind it all.
Or I could take the plunge and focus on what I am passionate about and what I feel compelled to share with others: creative fiction.
I have notes upon notes on various stories I need to write, but I have stalled on them due to that fear of mediocrity. Fear that no one will read what I write, and those that do won’t like it.
In the end, I can’t dictate what success looks like for me. I can only choose whether or not to write. And by choosing to write in service to God, the church, and others, I’ll already be succeeding at what matters most.