Everywhere on Substack, someone is there telling you to pick a niche, or you will never attract the right people, you will never sell a single hot dog, you will be a poor starving writer who has to get a horrible corporate job forever.
And, of course, there are a lot of us who feel like choosing a too-small-thing is just another form of cutting off parts of your soul to fit.
I’m going to be honest, I want writing to be my job. I want to make money doing this. Because I don’t have a lot of free time (like, I have mind bogglingly small amounts of free time), and I LOVE this, and I want to have a financial excuse to do it everyday forever.
I am working on the staying power to do it everyday forever anyway. Even if it means starving. There’s a lot of honor in that, and clarity, probably. But I am fond of eating on a daily basis, and if I had to live in a box, the rain would probably ruin my computer. So.
There are a lot of obstacles to making this happen.
The first is “niching”.
Why The Hell Do You Need a Niche in the First Place?
It’s like being a jock or a cheerleader or a computer nerd – it’s so that random strangers who identify as your people will instantly KNOW that you are ONE OF US. Cause they have 2 seconds to not bounce off your profile.
You need a clear, relatable THING, so they know they need you.
My favorite translation of this idea for multipassionate people is from Taylin and Dale (of Creative Minority) – solve a problem that is big enough to include most of your passions.
I’ve been trying to figure out what the hell this looks like for me.
I DO Actually Want to Write About How to Make a Meaningful Life
This is the first example the niche-dudes give of a BAD idea of something to write about.
First, because what the heck does that really mean? It’s not even a question.
Second, how does anyone know whether they identify with you or think you’re a weirdo? (Spoiler, I am a weirdo, let’s just get that out of the way now.)
Seriously though – maybe Bob wants to write about how to have a meaningful life through fishing, cheese tasting, and football. Susan wants to write about how meaning comes through ice plunges, mushroom gazing, and meditation. And I’m over here cursing about parenting, philosophy, and runes.
And if real people were even half this simple, niching would probably not be such a problem.
Creative Work Is My Actual Hurtiest Problem
Speaking of problems – this is the one I’m really trying to solve.
Creativity has been missing from my life for a long time. I have been taking care of kids 92 hours a day. And parenting is to creativity a bit like breaking rocks is to exercise.
There are certainly opportunities for constant, slow creativity (like what does your car say, while he is in battle with a group of other superhero cars against the giant mech robot?), but not a lot of completing tasks that you chose with some level of agency (unless they result in snacks or locating clean socks).
Since I’ve been writing here, I am the happiest I’ve been in years. I feel alive again.
The creativity was a huge missing piece in my life. And not just creating any old thing (in my corner desk in the kitchen at 2 am where no one can see). Creating things that go out into the world, and touch real, other humans, who then sometimes tell me about it. This has been phenomenal.
One strategy I could use is to talk about my process in public, since I am not actually making money through creative work. So I’m only obliquely qualified to solve the problem of creative work for other people. I’m just really trying to solve it for myself.
Cause I don’t want to go back in the box.
Fitting A Hippopotamus In A Thimble
I have this problem with comments too – I have too much to say, too many ideas, too much complexity, and I can’t always seem to fit them in.
I’ve been focusing on the creative process, and the fear and resistance that tend to pop up in it, cause it’s stuff I’m working through, and cause it feels relevant to what a lot of us are going through here, right now – trying to make independent creative work work.
But the rest of my hippopotamus is making complaining-noises. He does not want to go in the thimble.
I still want to talk about what makes a meaningful life.
Probably because I feel like most of the “cultural advice” we’re given does not lead to one. It’s more like advising people to jump in a big, deep, dark pit and promising there will be a prize at the bottom! (“crunch”) (that’s the noise they make when they land).
But… creativity… and writing about what I think, what gives my life meaning… has gone a long way towards helping me MAKE meaning in my life. Make it, notice it, share it, and have it reflected back to me, which makes it feel real.
Is this a “niche”? I have no friggin idea.
The “Make Something Sellable” Problem
I think this, really, is where my hippopotamus is getting frightened.
Once upon a time, little me thought that “being a writer” meant creating wondrous worlds like in the books I loved to read. Books seem like the ultimate goal of writing, and they’re still what I love best.
And they are probably what my brain does best too. I love sitting and writing and getting lost in deep thought. (The hippo approves.)
But the wizards of the internet are not paying their bills by writing books right now. Having the time to write books is more like something that comes AFTER your financial success, not before.
This leaves me with 3 buckets of things.
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Editing/writing
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Coaching/ cohorts
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Cool dingys (like planners, or e-books)
I’m deeply confused by this variety of options, and what they are supposed to do with “creative work” or “making meaning”. My inner hippopotamus of ideas is getting very upset at the prospect that he won’t get to talk about what he wants to.
The anxiety is high.
There is also the larger problem with “niching”. You don’t want to be known for solving ANY specific problem (like, “I help people with poor eyesight find paperclips!”)
It has to be an important one. That you have skills to solve. That people care enough about to pay for.
Oh, and there’s the whole, “Your first 3-5 attempts will fail” situation.
What Am I Good At?
This is something the Japanese ask in trying to figure out your Ikagi – which is also a mix of what you love, what other people want you to do, and what you can get paid for.
I’m good at idea translation.
The hippo-in-a-thimble situation has been a lifelong problem for me, so I’m good at helping other people coax their respective hippos through thimbles as well.
I’ve been doing editing, which is great when people really care about making good ideas that help people, and is fairly demoralizing when they don’t.
I’m good at making writing that connects. The thimble.
I’m good at the complex ideas too. Hippos must first exist before you can fit them in weird places.
And I’ve done a lot of personal development spirituality stuff. To soothe the hippo.
I’m good at talking, listening, explaining things.
I don’t feel like this is narrowing anything down.
Now I’m just being lost publicly.
I Need Your Help
Me and my head have had enough useless, circular conversations on this. Claude is about ready to tell me to go take a hike (man, hiking sounds nice. I may not return.).
I need you, dear reader, to tell me what you would rather I do.
If you think I am a whiney idiot, you can tell me that (by all means, lets be honest here).
Problem 1) The Niche:
I think I’m writing about creative work as a lost dingus. With the larger aim of weaving a meaningful life in at the margins.
If you think this is stupid, feel free to say so (and why).
Problem 2) Doing a Thing Humans Pay for:
Should I:
A: Lean into writing and editing, writing an essay a week on fitting your hippo through your respective thimble, offer editing services, writing coaching, and mini classes on writing more clearly?
B. Do creative clarity coaching? I could do calls on how to figure out blocks, move past scary things, do the inner work, then we could make plans to do the creative thing?
C. Something else? Perhaps I could move to Mt. Everest, and become a sherpa, and write about that? Or learn breakdancing? Any ideas are welcome.
As a prize, I’ll probably do one of these things at a ridiculous discount for you, for the first 30 people who offer suggestions in the next week.
(But I have to ask for some kind of nominal fee, like $10, because learning to ask for money is also a scary thing I’m working on. This is my practice.)
And if this annoys you, or seems way too forward, please comment a random screaming/ snorting noise, or perhaps a rude emoji. I hate silence most (although I also don’t blame you if you ain’t got nothin’ to say).
My deepest, heartfelt thanks.
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