The Risky Business of Publishing a Substack
Celebrating one year of Adventures in Being Human
Happy October, my good people. We are taking a little break from the travel series, in part because I’m still noodling on some pieces about my time in Jerusalem, and I realized it was this little publication’s one-year Substack-aversary. I’m a big fan of taking the time to celebrate weird anniversaries so in that spirit…
5 Reflections from a Year of These Adventures:
#1—Every piece surprised me.
Even when I began with a clear idea, every single post turned out differently than I imagined. Most of them took me deeper than I wanted to go, and most of them made me cry. All of this annoyed me, especially when I’d intended to churn out a cute little post in fifteen minutes, commencing the same old fight with myself—“Come on Knapp, not today! Work, not weeping. Mooooove!”
Depending on the week, the fights took days, and one post was in the cue for months because I could not deal. Another voice, often in the tone of Mick, my long-time mentor, would prod, “Follow the tears, Jackie. The weeping is the work.” I’d maturely respond with, “Blah, blah, blah—YOU FOLLOW THE TEARS.”
Even more annoying—the wrangling was worth it. If I engaged, eventually the piece would release me, and I could release it. The creative process is alive and wily, and she shall not be tamed. And yet, when you uncurl those fists clenched around whatever version of “this” you imagined, she’ll lead you right to the treasure.
#2—I am a writer.
Even as I type it, I’m once again fighting with myself. “Duh, Jackie. You’ve been writing your entire life. You have a bin of journals filled with ponderings and poetry and five Lily Huckleberry books in the world. Not super profound, bud.”
And yet, it feels like a bold statement. Almost everyone I know who attempts this insanity feels shy about announcing, “I am a writer!” Even with books published, I am timid to claim it, as if I’m waiting for someone else, someone like the CEO of a Big Five Publishing House or the NYT Bestseller’s List to declare it is true. We’ve been conditioned to look for outside approval, but I’m learning again and again—no one else can tell you if you are an artist.
Rilke said it best when a hopeful youngster clamored for his blessing—
There is only one thing you should do. Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write. - Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet
A touch melodramatic, but I love how provocative it is. Would I drop dead if I were forbidden to write? Maybe not, but I’ll go on the record to say that part of me would die if I couldn’t write. This is one of the primary ways I make sense of the world, and I would lose much of myself if it was gone. In short: sometimes you have to greenlight yourself, pals.
#3—Sharing your art doesn’t have to kill your soul.
As stated above, I’ll be scribbling in journals until you have to pry my dead, cold fingers from my felt-tip pens and Midori notebooks. However, sharing my writing has always been a tricky thing for me. It’s a particularly tricky era to navigate social media and the pressure of platform and performance without losing your ever-loving mind. Sometimes I’m haunted by the thoughts of, “It’s happening. I’ve become an ingratiating egomaniac and no one is going to tell me.” My people swear they will tell me, but to be honest, I can still get the ick when it comes to self-promotion.
This format has helped me hit publish and also get over myself. The pace is slower and a bit less oriented toward dopamine addiction and endless scrolling. Sometimes I don’t hear much of a response, and sometimes I do, and I’m learning to flow with that too. How many times have I appreciated art without penning a profuse thank you letter to the maker?
There has been goodness and connection in this public sharing, and it’s brought me great delight to see people engage with the work. I asked a few of my regular readers to name what they’ve enjoyed, and I’m still trying to receive their words and not feel like an egomaniac posting these:
“Jackie’s works are a portal. You don’t have to go far to travel to unknown lands of whim and discovery. Mermaids, mountains, unicorns, cows with floral headbands, Jackie takes us on the voyage of the imagination. My review? Stay near Jackie even from afar and life will be a joyful ride.” — Hope
“This is the most honest thing I’ve read in a while. Jackie is not trying to say the correct thing or caveat her words to force you (or herself) to see her in a certain light. She is thoughtful, honest, funny and so tenderhearted without agenda, and that makes her the most refreshing.” — Liz
“I look forward to each of Jackie’s posts because they are always a launching point of wonder. Jackie helps to fill the color back into a sometimes drab world. I always find myself stopping and seeing the world in a slightly different way, to find the joy and whimsy all around after reading one of her adventures. I hope for her anniversary celebration she does a giveaway for a chance to join her on one of these magical adventures!”- Alan
Many things compete for our attention every day, and I’m grateful for the time you spend here. Also! Should we do an adventure giveaway? Brainstorm below.
#4—Courage is contagious.
One of my favorite pieces of the year was called On Risking Failure. The central question was “What failure are you risking right now?” This prompt led to some of my most meaningful conversations of the year and a lot of good scheming about “Risky Business” theme parties.
A few weeks after the post, I walked into my book club, and my friend Courtney opened the night with, “I read your post Jackie, and I’ve been thinking about your question.” She pulled out her violin. “Friends, I haven’t played in over five years, and I’m so rusty, but I kept thinking about the song that was in the book and I want to play it for you. I asked my kids to stay for this because I want them to see me taking risks.” And then she played for us, laughing at the notes that weren’t perfect. The beauty of the moment almost killed us, witnessing the safety of someone letting herself be seen, in process, exactly as she was. I’ll never forget it—it was the bravest thing I’d seen in a long time.
#5—The creative process is alive and wily.
Last fall, I got a message from someone in a local Creative Collective who read the post She Carries it All, a story about my friend who was grieving the loss of one of her twins. The message asked if I’d be up for putting the red dress photos and poem in an art show. I was flabbergasted, having no idea that anyone besides my friends and family was reading the Substack and no idea what I was getting myself into. I said yes.
Weeks later, a documentarian in the group asked if anyone had a poem that could be made into a short film for the show. Having no idea who this person was, I said yes. In the next three weeks, we shot and debuted the film. Ben, the filmmaker, turned out to be a deep and soulful human who understood the project at first glance and proceeded to pull off incredible work in a minuscule amount of time.
At the show, someone said, “Wow, that film was powerful. I’m sending this to a friend who is hurting. You have a gift for lament photography.” I almost laughed out loud. “Lament photography? Well, yes. I suppose that is what this is.” If you’d told me that one day I would have a short film about lament photography, I would have laughed in your face.
A few weeks ago, we got word that the film made it into a festival in Texas. I messaged Abby, the wearer of the dress, and we marveled again at where one whim on a windy day had taken us, the fact that we now have no idea where her story has gone or who it will reach.
She shall not be tamed.
P.S. Good news—I finally get to share the film in the next post, so make sure you are subscribed here:
Besides the two mentioned above, the most popular posts this year:
Week One of Creative Practices for the Winter Doldrums: Make Space (a ridiculous story about teenage Jackie)
Want more fun? Connect with me on Instagram: @jackieknapp_
Your Turn! I’d love to hear your thoughts and most importantly how we should do the adventure giveaway…
Congrats on one year! Looking forward to more honesty and adventures!