Kitchen Sink Letter
More Than You Wanted To Know About This Newsletter, Selling Watercolors, Money Stuff, And, Uh... Green Birds.
A note: This week, I’m doing something very different that I have never done before and will probably never do again. It is a State of the Union / FAQ / AMA / Followup / Kitchen Sink Letter. IT IS VERY LONG. It has a lot of candid details about things like money and writing newsletters in it. If this is not why you come here (and that makes a lot of sense to me) you should skip this newsletter and come back in two weeks1, when things will be back to normal.
Dear Ones,
Last week, I sent out two emails that, uh, elicited emotional responses. So let’s get into it.
What was the first email?
The first email announced that I was having a watercolor sale, in order to help pay off an unexpected medical bill. And to bypass the difficulty of apps on which you can sell things, I thought I’d just have people put their email addresses on a Google spreadsheet if they wanted to buy a painting, and then I’d email them later with details.
What was the second email?
The second email announced that the sale was being postponed, because the Spreadsheet Method had not felt great to all readers. I wrote that it had caused some harm.
Sophie! Are you OK?
Thank you so much for your concern. I am really, really, definitely OK.
What about this medical bill!?!?
The American healthcare system doesn’t serve most people, which isn’t news to anyone. I thought I’d paid this bill off already, but it turned out, there was more of it to pay. I do have a savings account for this sort of thing, and I didn’t mean to make it sound like collections agencies would be at the door if I didn’t sell my watercolors. I decided to tell you that this particular unexpected expense (on top of a few others) has made the last few months tight, and it felt like a good time to sell some art. I am an artist, and I make art that I intend to sell, in general. It’s not a Gift of the Magi2 situation, where I am devastated to part with the art. I am excited to sell it and send it off to you!
Do you feel like maybe you shouldn’t be telling a bunch of strangers about your personal life / finances / medical bills?
Maybe? I go back and forth. I wasn’t sure if I should tell you about the medical bill. I have had a tendency, in the past, to overshare. Very often, I don’t know something is a boundary until I’ve crossed it. But ultimately, I decided that this particular audience (you) is kind of special. I share a lot of intimate things with you. So far, it’s been connective — not only for me, but for others here. But I’m learning as I go.
So. You’re not sad to let these paintings go?
No! For this particular sale: I started painting late last spring, knowing I wanted to have an art sale of some kind. I picked up a big piece of paper and thought, “I’ve been saving this for no reason. I want to paint on it. And then, I want to see if I can sell it.” I had also been accumulating other pieces of art. I love to paint, and I love paintings, but who really knows how good I am at it. Mostly, my work goes in piles that go behind a curtain on my bookshelf, and no one ever looks at it, ever. Maybe that’s fine. But wouldn’t it be better if someone looked at it sometimes?
Wait. So why was someone upset about the Spreadsheet Method? Why were they angry and hurt?
The person felt that there was a lack of care or privacy for the buyer in the public sale. They felt I had chosen the Spreadsheet Method to get a higher profit margin, at the cost of buyers’ needs for respect and privacy.
I disagree with this person. I have a lot of reasons why I disagree with them.
I’ve appreciated all the thoughts I’ve heard on this topic, and I don’t know where I land on it. I think it makes sense to create a burner email for situations like this (many readers suggested this), but it also makes sense to not want to have to do that just to buy a painting. The main reason I don’t like listing each individual painting on, say, Squarespace, isn’t really about profit margins — it’s that it’s frustrating to add a painting to your cart, and then go to check out, and find that someone else has already checked out with the painting. I like that on Google Sheets, you can see what’s happening in real time, and not get your hopes up and then feel disappointed after you enter all your information into a form. So a website where I list every painting in an “add to cart” method doesn’t feel right, either.
Sophie, I think you should just do what you want to do and not worry about hurting one or two people’s feelings. They can just choose not to participate.
I wanted to speak to this a little bit, since it came up a lot in emails.
I have the luxury of a small enough readership (there are about 3,000 of you) that I can still hold this principle in tact, and I do believe in it: when one person is uncomfortable with how something is working, I generally don’t see the harm in slowing down and taking a look at the process. This is also how I operate in an in-person group setting (like a classroom). That’s not because that one person is right or wrong (maybe there isn’t a right or wrong!); it’s because there might be a moment in the future when you will feel uncomfortable; and in that case, I want you to know that you can email me, and I will take seriously your feelings, too. People have reasons for feeling the things they feel, and feelings are important. Medical bills are also important — but hosting a watercolor sale on the internet right now in this exact moment is never an emergency. We can always just stop! We can take a breath. We can let some time pass, go for a walk, think about other stuff, watch an episode of Boy Meets World, work on the crossword. This is not the case for every person in every job in the world, but it is the case for me, a person who runs a small newsletter. And what a gift that is! What an amazing thing, that we have the incredible bounty to basically always be able to stop, rest, think, relax, put on lotion, and restart again later.
I think there is a way of doing this sale that better takes into account the privacy of the buyer. I had a little time to think about it! So let’s do it that way instead. No big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone is fine.
Did you honor the sales you made before the sale halted?
Yes, I did. So a lot of the original paintings are actually gone. I made / freed up a few new paintings, so there could be a new sale. I didn’t count on the popularity of the sale; it was a little overwhelming! Thank you so much for your love and support.
How will the new sale work?
Here are the paintings I have!
The spreadsheet is the same, but instead of putting your email address, just put a name. It doesn't have to be real. It can be totally fake. It can be an emoji. Then, when you're all done reserving paintings, hit the button at the top of the Google Sheet to fill out a quick form and finish reserving the painting(s).
Here is a link to the spreadsheet.
Will you paint a commission for me?
Not right now. I recently took a new job as the Editorial Adviser at a student newspaper at the school where I also work as a Lecturer. Altogether, I spend about 50 hours a week working these two combined jobs. I don't think I will always work this many hours. I am still learning the ropes of the new job, so I'm pretty sure it will slow down. The other job is Job of Teacher, which is always a long and hard job. I will take a moment to complain publicly that just because my jobs are in different departments shouldn't mean that I am ineligible for health insurance from my employer, but somehow it does seem to mean that. See above about the American healthcare system. I really love the place I work and the work I do, regardless of scraping the bottom week after week lately.
The thing about commissions is that, while it seems like they would be easy, they're really hard! You have an idea of the thing you want, and you think that I will be able to make it, but I probably won't get it right the first time I try. I like to try to forge a good working relationship with a client, and that can take a lot of time and patience (on both our parts). I look forward to a point in my life where there is a little more room for commissions, because I love making them.
Don't you also have a baby?
It's wild how they get bigger and how now she is almost two. When do babies stop being babies? But yes. And there have been days where I haven't seen her, and this has made me weep. (I've been finishing our book club read, Enchantment, which is written in British. The word I really mean is "snot-cry.")
Money? Gauche?
I am definitely in the growing group of women who want to speak more transparently about money.
I have a core memory of going on a field trip to the library in fourth grade and being asked by the teacher what we were most curious about. (This was waaaaay too open-ended of a question, by the way. I think he was trying to get at the idea that we could learn anything we wanted at the library, but I thought we were supposed to be truthful.) I asked how much money my teacher made, and where the money went, and how he decided to spend it. I was put in class detention, barred from speaking for the rest of the day. The lesson? We don’t talk openly about money.
And now, I have a child, and we live in a capitalist society. I want to make decisions about money that will help her live a long, happy life, and the way I spend my money is going to be a part of that. But I’m missing a lot of pieces. There are classes I can take, podcasts I can listen to, and books I can read, but I don’t have a ton of time. So much of the time, I’m making things up as I go, and I’m making a lot of mistakes. I am the primary earner in my home. I barely know how to do this. I hope that by writing openly about it, I'll both learn and inform. Also, who says "gauche" anymore?
Since we are in this unconventional AMA format, I thought it might be a good time to do a little State of the Union for this Substack, and talk openly about the logistics of freelancing, money ... all of the things that make You Are Doing A Good Enough Job whir. I asked the paid tier of subscribers to ask any questions they might have in this week's paid newsletter, and I'm putting those questions below.
But First, Some Charts And Graphs:
I actually started this newsletter to track my pregnancy (!?). I was (1) shocked at how there was a new weirdness every week; and (2) reeeeeeally beating myself up.
Pompously, I believed that I would easily attract 5,000 readers within my first month of publishing. I had that many Instagram followers, and I thought that they would blindly come on over to any pile of words I put out on the Internet. If someone wanted to spend their time looking at pictures I drew, wouldn't they also want to get long emails from me? I kept waiting for the hoards of readers to arrive, but they never did.
Instead, you are here, and you are fierce. This is much better. Growth has been constant and steady. Writing this newsletter is the highlight of my week, because I am writing for a group of people I feel like I really love and have gotten to know. I feel like I've been working my whole life to be a writer, but I also needed to be pursuing a nine-to-five job out of college, and I stupidly picked "teacher." That meant I didn't get the newsroom skills I needed to be a "real" journalist; but by writing constantly in my spare time (lol) and freelancing (with an emphasis on "free"), I got a fair amount of writing practice. There is a small-but-mighty audience for the specific skillset I've cultivated. That's you. So even if it means that I have to wake up at 4 in the morning (often, that is what it means), this is the thing that brings me the most joy, and I feel honored that you give me your time.
On to your questions.
I've recently thought it would be fun to blog or write a newsletter. Not so much for money or a side gig, but because I think I'd genuinely enjoy it - and because I think it would add a bit of evidence to the world that I know what I'm doing. I freelance, too. Do you like Substack? Professionally, do you think I'd benefit from posting the same content elsewhere (like Medium?), or should I consider different content for different mediums? Quick follow-up - am I overthinking this?
I use both Substack and Medium, and I like them both! But Substack has been a lot better for building a community. The thing about the You Are Doing A Good Enough Job community that I've found so interesting is how much it's changed. There are some folks who've stayed constant, and others who've come and gone. There are some who started out with the community and left and then came back later. I love the idea that there are spaces that feel comfortable enough to be there for you when you need them. Anyway, I'm always here, and it always makes me feel better to be here. I feel like I connect with people every week. I like a lot of the social networking features that Substack has, even if I don't utilize them all.
I make money on both platforms; I'm not sure which is easier to earn on. Substack's model has you earning based on who subscribes to your publication. Medium's model has you earning based on who reads your writing, how long they stay on your story, and how much they engage with it. I've earned slightly more on Medium because I have a better relationship with the editors there, but I get a lot out of both platforms.
For the first year that I published on Substack, I resisted paid subscriptions entirely. The idea that anyone would want to give their attention — absolutely their most valuable resource — to something I made is incredibly moving to me. I've always had a difficult time asking for more on top of that. So I started thinking about the paid subscription as being for something other than the writing: the paid subscription is for the community (and for some of the recommendations), which is something I can provide, monitor, and mediate.
I don't think you're overthinking it! I think you're thinking about it the exact right amount. I recommend you start a Substack and cross-post on Medium. Start next week! Send me the link. I'll subscribe.
How do you get paid via Substack? Is it a straight line from my subscription fee to your bank account? And, do you make enough money from the newsletter to be worth it (for you) for the time you actually spend on it?
Substack takes 10 percent of whatever you spend on your subscription, and another 2.9 percent + 30 cents goes to Stripe, which distributes money into my bank account.
You Are Doing A Good Enough Job has 256 paid subscribers. Substack's dashboard tells me that my annual revenue is about $15,000. That sounds pretty good, but it's not entirely true; a lot of that money comes from projected earnings from weekly subscribers who will try a free preview and cancel it before they end up having to pay. I don't have a great sense of how much money it ends up being at the end of the day, but nevertheless, it is enough for the newsletter to be worth it for me. I do spend pretty much all my free time on this newsletter, but it is also my favorite thing. (A note here that I'm making all paid subscriptions 20 percent off this week. Of course! Can't talk about money without running a sale, can you?)
Do you like having the variety of doing lots of different jobs, and events, and side gigs?
I wish I could rest more.
What is your favorite job/art making/writing?
I think ten-years-ago Sophie would have loved this question. I find a lot of joy in doing, and I have a different favorite every hour of every day. It's a gift and a curse, to be so excited to be alive, and so disappointed that the day has to end.
Do you have experience with burnout from teaching? I teach music privately and even though I'm not in a school environment, I struggle so much with burnout, and with trying to balance teaching with art.
YES. Have you ever seen a TV show or movie where a teacher was portrayed in a way that was remotely accurate or even made any kind of sense? That's because everyone has been around teachers, but if you don't BECOME a teacher, you have no idea how hard it is to do the thing they're doing. They're so good at it that you totally miss it when you're a student. You don't see the lesson planning, the calculating, the I Do-We Do-You Doing, the scaffolding, the re-framing, the adjusting, the accommodating, modifying, letting go, holding on, and recalibrating. You just see them in the front of the room, and they seem to have some amount of power. It looks easy, and it’s so hard to make it look that way.
Teachers are asked to be parents, caregivers, nurses, counselors, and educators — and they're chronically underpaid and deeply under-respected. I have literally never met a teacher who doesn't suffer from burnout. And it's so hard to quit teaching, because once you start, you see how critical it is. It might be the most important job in the world, and who else is going to do it?
Last night, I told my students that I was going to leave my classroom at 6:15, but I would stay until then and help anyone who needed it. Of course 6:15 came and went. I watched it come and go. But you can't leave when a kid is asking for help, with that look of panic on their face that says, "I don't know how to do this; how am I supposed to do this?" I stayed until 7 and I cried while I drove home because I knew I'd probably sacrificed saying goodnight to my daughter. To this question: I only know "yes." I don't know around or through. Only, "yes."
How can I (or we your audience) be in community together and support you?
Thank you for indulging this very, very long email that was unlike normal emails. Here are my asks:
If you find yourself with an extra hour in the late afternoon and you're trying to decide what to do with it, please take a twenty-five minute nap.
Believe someone who gives you a compliment. Don't just say thank you, but actually believe them.
When you're in an elevator, decide to look up from your phone and say hello to the other person or people in the elevator. Choose to not exist in a world where we can be that close to each other and simultaneously that far away.
Appreciate every living plant for as long as you can.
Join me in taking as much of next week off as you can, to celebrate the equinox. (Or the "harvest," as my calendar begs.) I won't be putting out any newsletters next week. I'll be back in October.
I love you.
I am taking next week off for the equinox.
I don’t really know what this is and I’m not going to look it up.
I read every word. Thank you for this and I will absolutely take as much of next week off as I can, though I don't know now how much that is. But I can now say I have permission. All the best.
Happy harvest.
You are brave & fierce & compassionate & talented & it’s a pleasure to be part of your posse.