The upsides, the downsides, and the vulnerability of creating publicly
Whenever I’ve launched a project on Kickstarter, it’s always been a turmoil of feelings. Every time, starting about three days after I’ve publicly announced what I’m interested in and hope to discuss by launching a project, my doubts arise. Has it really been necessary to ask people for money to work on something I care about? Has it been necessary to look for people the way I do?
If a project succeeds, then, of course, it’s all great! It will be celebrated as a success, and I’ll get what I wanted and what motivated me to launch a project in the first place; people will talk to me about what I’ve declared as a subject of my personal interest.
But then, of course, what if a project doesn’t succeed?
I’ve finally stopped procrastinating on learning my TEDx talk. (Writing it was hard. I had someone I consider an exceptionally thoughtful writer edit it and help me shape my thoughts into words.) Now, every single day, I get to listen to my voice repeating out loud what’s become a mantra.
In short, and in the words of Dan Harmon, “If you find your voice, shout with it from the rooftops – and keep doing so – the people who are looking for you will eventually find you.”
That’s what always remains on my mind whenever a project is public; are people interested in what I’m interested in? Do I know such people? Where will I find them? How will they see me and will they find me in time?
Many doubts arise doing what I do and have repeatedly been doing for years. However, I also know I’ve met many incredible people because I’ve been “creating out loud” for years. Having projects live has always given people a reason to talk to me (about something I’m interested in). It’s also given me a reason to approach strangers without it seeming all too awkward. Over the years, I’ve met people who I now call friends because I did something I shared online. I’ve been referred to clients because of something I’ve created and people thought it was interesting. It’s been great and rewarding. Yet, I also question, will it work again? Or not?
It takes a lot of courage to share unfinished work publicly and even though I know the benefits of doing so, I also know I’ve always felt the way I feel right now every time I’ve gathered the courage and shared work in progress. To me, however, it’s not just about working on something I care about and trying to find my people through the work I put into the world. It’s also got to do with my personal philosophy;
“If I had told people I aspired to become a writer before I published my very first book, it would have made publishing that book much harder for me. I would’ve probably needed someone else also to declare me a writer and give me the self-confidence to do something more than practicing writing online and on social media. I might have waited until an agent picked me up and a publishing house approved of me, rather than to go down the path of self-publishing.
If I called myself a writer, it would’ve made me vulnerable. It would’ve allowed the world to criticize me, and possibly hurt me if it did. Yet with social media, I felt it’s all work in progress. And having others watch and notice my progress without claiming perfection has always felt encouraging.
When I started working on my first book, I knew that if someone were to say the book wasn’t any good, it would’ve been relatively easy for me to swallow that criticism. Given I had no official training or any sort of references, I didn’t have to justify mistakes or failure. It was easier for me to start because I had nothing, not even my image—or as it’s now called, ‘my personal brand’—to lose.
I wanted to write a book, and I knew I needed help to make it good, yet I didn’t aspire to become a writer. I just wanted to write, so I did. On social media, I shared my progress, and I was open about the journey of improvement.”
And I can now see where it all led.
You might question why not finish something, find a way to monetize it through a bigger company, and then present things as a success after?
It’s because I believe in transparency. I believe in sharing the process of unfinished work and have others see how something is being done. I believe in it because I believe it gives others the necessary courage also to try and start from scratch and create something. I want others to see the struggle. I wish for people to see the slow curve to “success.” I wish for people to understand they too can try. Because that to me is the power of the internet.
I keep reading about mental health. I keep reading about how people struggle with social media, however, I also believe it’s an incredible tool to create and find “your” people.
In a way I still want to prove that; I merely believe that if someone connects with me because of something I’ve created or at least tried to develop, it will be the most meaningful connection for both of us. And that’s the advantage. The power. The tool we all have at our fingertips. I’ll talk about it more in Graz, yet just really wanted to share this with you. To keep things transparent.