I’m doing something really scary and really exciting.

I’m shutting down one of the top ways I make money as a creative. I’ve been doing it for about 10 years, and from my best estimates, it’s brought me about $250,000 over the last few years alone.

Today, I’m going to tell you why this may actually make better financial sense for me in the long run — and what I’m doing with that energy instead.

One of My Biggest Money Makers as a Creative

Six years ago, I was working for Tony Robbins as his creative content producer — traveling around the world, writing content for him, creating content for large stages, managing large productions.

Before that, I had run an online company with courses on body image, sex and sexuality, retreats and programs all over the internet.

When I got tired of traveling and helping somebody else with their content, I decided to start my own business. The very first thing I did made me enough money to last for a year. And since then, it has been one of the ways I’ve made the most money. Half comes from VIP one-on-one work, and half comes from this.

Have you guessed what I’m walking away from yet?

If you guessed online courses, you would be right.

For over a decade — with the exception of the two years I worked for Tony Robbins — I’ve run online courses. And even during those two years, I helped with his online courses too.

I loved online education. I take courses, I believe in courses. After I graduated law school, online courses by people who knew what they were doing taught me the practical aspects of running a business, being a creative, and writing books.

I loved taking them. I loved running them. I loved all of it.

And then something shifted.

Something Has Shifted – In Me and My Community

If I had to guess, it started with post-COVID Zoom fatigue.

A couple years ago, I noticed people just weren’t showing up online anymore.

• I’d have a Zoom coaching call and no one would come even though dozens of people were in the program.

• Someone would pay me $3,000 and never attend a single call.

• Someone would sign up for an asynchronous online class and not even watch the intro video.

I noticed it in myself too. I was buying courses and never taking them. Unless they had a live component where we went through it together, good luck getting me to actually implement anything.

And I had been a star student! When I took courses in the past, I did everything — showed up to every call, watched every video, took notes, implemented it all. But something has changed. Not just for me, but for my clients, my people.

We’re all at capacity.

Inspired to Be Brave and Reassess

About six months ago, Jenna Kutcher – an online entrepreneur that I admire and have had the pleasure of meeting IRL – shut down her extremely popular and financially successful podcast. What she’s written about how her life has evolved since letting go of the biggest, most time-consuming part of her business inspired me to look back at mine.

I took some time in coaching, in my journal, and in quiet moments of solitude to seriously ask myself:

The answer kept coming back to sales funnels and online courses.

Don’t get me wrong, I love teaching. I always have.

But when I think about my life legacy, am I thinking about digital online courses? No.

• I’m thinking about shelves full of books.

• I’m thinking about travels and one-on-one adventures and time spent with people.

• I’m thinking about clients who are actually getting their books out in the world. The legacy I love is the action they’re taking, the actual results.

So I realized: I’m done with online courses.

I don’t want to build something and then spend my life trying to get you to buy it over and over again in an ongoing sales funnel on tech.

I don’t want a bunch of online courses.

I want books.

Turning My Courses Into Books

So, I’m turning my online courses into books. And the ones that don’t fully fit in books, I’m putting on Substack and YouTube.

Because honestly, I want you to have the information more than I want you to pay me for the information.

Don’t get me wrong — every artist deserves to get paid and paid well for their work. But I also don’t want any gatekeeping.

I’ve been wondering what it could look like to take something that I used to charge $333 for, like my 33 Asks® program, and turn it into a $6 e-book or a $20 printed book. A physical thing you can print out and go through yourself, and then have supplemental videos on Substack and YouTube that you can go to for free as a part of working with the workbook.

With everything going on in the world politically, with AI, with tech, I’m finding myself more and more wanting tangible analog things.

Something I used to take an online class for, I’m getting a book on it instead. Instead of scrolling social media, I’m enjoying reading long Substacks — the nuance of it. Or more than that, I love it when they read it and I can listen to it.

That’s why I make mine video and written and audio — to meet you where you’re at that day. Do you wanna read it? Do you wanna watch it? Do you wanna listen to it? I love the options for taking it out with me in the world somewhere.

And I had that with my classes, for sure. But I didn’t have the books.

I want people to be able to work through it on their own time. I want it to be financially and life accessible. I want them as books.

It’s Scary. And It’s Exciting.

One of the reasons I used to do online courses is I could charge more when I gave you my personal attention. There’s a real chance I’m going to make significantly less money doing this.

But I kind of don’t care.

Which is a weird thing to say as somebody who really believes in making money as an artist.

I am especially excited about retreats right now.

I want to get together in person with really good food and work through things together. Rent out a beautiful place, bring the book, turn off the Wi-Fi, take away the phones, and actually focus.

Humans being humans in person.

Feels kind of radical right now.

Feels kind of healing right now.

Making Time for More Aligned Projects

Just like when Jenna Kutcher shut down her podcast, suddenly she had time to start a Substack — and you can feel the love and energy in that transition. I’m making similar transitions behind the scenes.

• I’m making movies now that I’m not spending so much time on sales funnels.

• I’ve let go of chasing algorithms, and I’m writing more.

• I have more time for one-on-one clients, actually talking with people through their stories and their books.

That’s what I love the most.

So I’m leaning into it.

I’m scared that I’m going to financially hurt myself by not having this major source of income anymore. I’m grateful that my past self was good about saving. I’m very grateful I don’t have kids, and Albee doesn’t cost me that much.

But mostly I’m grateful that I have the kind of audience — you, right there — that lets me pivot, that is going to be as excited as I am about these courses becoming accessible books you can have on your shelf and actually reference.

So, it’s scary to give up a major way I made money.

And, it’s so exciting to see what’s going to come instead.

I hope you’re as excited as I am about this change, and I will continue to be transparent about what is going on over here creatively, so you can go out there and thrive as a creative as well.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and excitement for what comes next,
Lauren

P.S. The courses aren’t disappearing — they’re becoming books. Follow along here on Substack and on YouTube so you don’t miss them when they come out.

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MORE ON MONEY AND CREATIVITY:

Is the pursuit of money killing art?

On one hand, capitalism kills creativity. On the other hand, artists deserve to get paid.

Today I want to talk about something I sit with personally and get asked all the time: should we even be trying to make money off of our art?

And I’ve got some journaling prompts to help us answer this together.

The Hustle That Ate My Art

My gut instinct is to shout: hell no money isn’t killing art! I deserve to make money off of my art. And if I’m going to make a lot of money off of my art, it actually inspires me within capitalism to hustle more.

On the other hand, I built my company School for Writers® up and spent so much time trying to scale it and make it a multiple six-figure to seven-figure business that I didn’t really make a lot of art.

There was artistry to what I was doing, for sure. But mostly it felt like I was hustling for this idea of success, one that would appease traditional publishing.

It took me 20 years from when I started my very first novel to when my first traditionally published book came out. Four different agents, all big names. Sending my book out to publishers three to four different times.

My hit novel Because Fat Girl took seven years from when I started it to when it was out in the world, almost to the week. In those seven years: four agents, two rounds with publishers, hundreds if not thousands of rejections.

And through all of those rejections, a couple of things kept coming up: fat phobia, biphobia, queerphobia, and various other oppressions against LGBTQ people.

I even had someone say: “You have an amazing voice. This is amazing. No one’s ever going to buy a lesbian book like this.”

I had a publisher approach me about my Bawdy Love program, asking if I wanted to turn it into a book, and then saying I didn’t have a big enough following for them — never mind the fact that they found me online and came to me first.

My very first book that went out to publishers was a memoir about writing as Queerie Bradshaw. I had started my career as a writer online with a very popular sex blog and sex column in major magazines — Huffington Post, Vice, Autostraddle, Curve, Nerve, Cosmo. Everywhere. Yet they wanted a bigger following before they’d take a gamble on a lesbian.

And while I didn’t let that rejection stop me, I did find myself spending a lot of time trying to build a following online. It’s not a coincidence I started a writing school — I wanted readers and people interested in writing when my books came out.

Yes, I care about sharing all of this. But I could have shared it in other ways.

I spent a decade trying to build an online following so publishers would buy my books. But what if I had instead just kept writing more?

What if I had self-published and used the books to build my following?

I never got into sales funnels. I could never really go viral on social media. It was never my thing.

I am a writer, not a content creator. Those are two different things. I’m also not a marketing and sales funnel expert. Even though I’m pretty competent at it, it’s not my genius zone.

Which is why I developed my 33 Asks® program — a sticker chart where I go out and ask people directly — because that felt simpler to me than trying to figure out the tech of sales funnels and building a big online following.

Was the Pursuit of Entrepreneurship Worth It?

Don’t get me wrong, I love running my school. I love the programs I do. I love the people I get to work with.

But I spent way too much time trying to learn to be a marketer so traditional publishing would take my books. And even when I had big followings, traditional publishing was still homophobic and fatphobic against my work.

And that was me writing content for them! The books I want to write are a lot kinkier and gayer and wilder than anything publishing has ever taken from me.

So was the pursuit of capitalism — trying to go viral, trying to build a seven-figure business, trying to get my books in airports — ultimately the right one for me?

And what part of my artistic self had to be put on the back burner to make that entrepreneurial pursuit happen?

What Would It Look Like to Just Be the Artist?

Lately, I’ve been wondering what my life and career would look like if I leaned into the title of “artist”. Could I still pay my bills that way?

I can absolutely make money as a writer.

Last week’s post was all about how to do just that, and I have everything in my Writer’s Career Guide on the details of doing it for yourself.

I have proven time and again that I can make six figures as a writer using that skill set.

But can I do it as an artist — focusing solely on making art, not just on building a business?

In the entrepreneurial world, they teach you to build a business that you are the owner of, that you don’t have to operate yourself, that you can eventually scale and sell. That was my goal with School for Writers® — to make it about the company, not about me.

But what people actually came to me for was my artistry.

While yes, eventually I would love School for Writers® to have other teachers in their craft — people are coming to learn from me. They are other artists wanting to connect with an artist. They’re most often business owners themselves who want time to sit in the creativity that I offer.

I am a genius story coach. I’m kind of one of the best in the world.

Why did I try to build a business around marketing and sales instead of artistry?

I think I bought into the idea that you cannot make money as an artist, and that if you do make money as an artist, you’re destroying your art. So I bought into the word “creative entrepreneur” — because then I had creative, but I could make money doing it.

I bought into capitalism. Not just capitalism, but what law school and my time working with business gurus taught me about what I have to do to make money.

And I think I’m done with that way of thinking. I think I’m ready to see what it would look like to let the artist lead my work.

Some Questions for You

I’ve got some questions I’m sitting with that I’d like to pose to you as well. Get out a journal if you want, and write these down.

Or better yet, let me know your answers in the comments. I’d love to know your take on this topic.

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Where in your creative life are you letting capitalism drive it?

Another way to think about it: where are you waiting for that egotistical trade-off?

Are you like me — sitting on 13 unpublished books because you’re waiting for traditional publishing to finally give you the approval? If so, maybe go self-publish. You can own that yourself.

Are you waiting to have a novel be so good it could win awards before you’ll put it out in the world?

Are you trying to find funding for a multi-million dollar feature film when you need to just gather some friends and make a movie?

Are you waiting to take a painting class when you could make something ridiculous in 15 minutes and have a little more art in your life?

If no one ever gave you permission, would you die having never greenlit yourself?

Where can you give yourself the permission you need to go and make art?

And here’s one for the business owners — myself included — that I’m sitting with:

What would your business look like if you optimized for artistry, simplicity, and peace instead of growth and scale?

Let me know your answers in the comments.

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So, Is Money Killing Art?

My final answer is: I think it’s how you go about it.

I don’t think making money off of your art negates it in any way. In fact, I think we all deserve to make a lot of money off of our art and be fully resourced.

But if you’re letting capitalism — or traditional publishing, or the movie industry, or the music industry — determine the kind of art you make, if you’re silencing your voice or turning down parts of yourself to be more palatable to commercial audiences, then that’s something to think about.

Maybe it’s time to let go of that and lean into the art you need to make. The story you need to tell. The painting you need to make. The movie you need to produce.

Maybe you need to let go of what they say people want to hear and lean into talking to your people.

I say this as somebody who needs to do the exact same thing.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and creativity,
Lauren

P.S. Speaking of living an artistic life, I’m thinking about hosting a 5-day creative retreat in Mexico City around my birthday. Want to join me? Reply if you do and I’ll send you details!

The other day, I was walking my dog Albee in the park when someone saw my Write Your Friggin’ Book Already® shirt and asked me if I was a writer. I proudly said yes, and they immediately asked, “but how do you make money?”

The assumption being that all artists are starving.

I’m here to debunk that myth – and a couple others – and prove that you absolutely can make money as a writer.

It’s just probably not going to come the way that traditional publishing and Hollywood like to glorify and romanticize.

Just like I shared the full rundown of the numbers for my crowdfunding campaign last week, this week I’m opening my books to show you the exact numbers of how I make a full-time living as a writer – and giving tips for how you can do the same.

Myth #1: You Can’t Make Money as a Writer

First and foremost, I want to demystify this idea that you cannot make money as a writer. I was told that all growing up, and I feel like if I had just gone all in, I actually would have made more money.

Instead, I listened for way too long to people who told me there was no money to be made in the arts.

Y’all. Taylor Swift is a billionaire. Beyoncé, Jay-Z, billionaires. There’s money to be made in the arts. You just have to think of yourself as a creative entrepreneur. Art is your business.

In my book The Writer’s Career Guide: How to Build a Sustainable Creative Life on Your Terms, I have a long list of ways you can make money as a writer. Here are a few:

• Content writing,

• technical writing,

• grant writing,

• copywriting,

• journalism,

• business writing,

• ghostwriting,

• script writing,

• educational content,

• marketing emails.

The list goes on and on. There are so many ways to make money as a writer. And yes, that can include writing books, but you’re probably not going to make it on book sales alone.

Myth #2: You Can Make Money on Book Sales Alone

But here’s the second myth I want to debunk: that you’re going to be able to support yourself off of book sales alone.

My novel Because Fat Girl sold more copies than most, and it still barely paid any of my bills.

Part of that is because books are expensive to print and people don’t pay a lot for them, so the margin is tiny.

Another reason is that, similar to other art forms, the artist is often the last person to get paid. Publishing can be pretty exploitative, and sometimes you end up losing money on your book even with a traditional publisher.

When I got into the industry, I had no idea how little royalties traditionally published authors made, so I’m sharing these numbers here to help you understand how they work.

Traditional Publishing Royalties: The Real Numbers

Here’s a general breakdown of what you make off royalties in a traditional publishing deal — based on a variety of contracts from myself, my friends, and my clients:

• E-books: 10–20% of whatever they sell it for (anywhere from 99 cents to $6). The publisher manages the pricing. You don’t get a say.

• Hardcovers: 5–10% of a $20–$30 hardcover

• Paperbacks: 6–8% of a $10–$16 paperback

• Audiobooks: You get about 30–50% of what the publisher gets, so overall about 3–10% of a $15–$30 audiobook

If you’re lost in all those percentages, here’s my rule of thumb:

You get about 50 cents to a dollar per book sold.

And don’t forget — with traditional publishing, you almost always need an agent, so your agent gets 15% of that.

Considering the average book sells under 1,000 copies, you’re looking at years of work for about $850.

It can be easy to see why people give up on traditional publishing and turn to self-pub.

Self-Publishing Royalties

To self-publish, most people use Kindle Direct Publishing through Amazon, which gives you about 30–70% of your sale depending on the pay structure you use. While KDP is far from perfect, it’s a much better percentage than traditional publishing.

As you’ll see below with my numbers, you don’t always get the same reach and distribution that traditional publishers have, however that depends on the marketing budget your publisher is willing to put into your book.

Even with those higher percentages, you’re still not looking at much money coming in when you remember that the average book sells less than 1,000 copies.

I break all of this down even more in The Writer’s Career Guide if you want to get into it, but suffice it to say: you’re not going to get rich off selling your books, especially at first.

Where the Money Really Comes from for Writers

Even the bestsellers I know don’t make a lot of their money on just book sales. They’re getting it on movie placements, product placements, retreats, speaking gigs, and things that relate to the people reading their books and make them want to invest even more in their worlds.

Think of it like this: If I sold you a Post-it pad, you’re probably also going to want a pen or a highlighter, so I should try selling you those as well.

What are the things you can sell around your book that help people get more use out of it?

While I haven’t made much money off my actual book sales, I have made a lot of money around my books. Here’s how you can do the same.

Products, services, and experiences around your books

For example, I have The Writer’s Career Guide — and I offer coaching around how to build a career as a writer. The book helps me get coaching clients.

My very first book, Bawdy Love: 10 Steps to Profoundly Loving Your Body, was a whole program to help people shed body shame and love their body. I had the book, but I also had retreats and online programs surrounding it that brought in more money. People could buy the book, or they could come to a retreat and work through it with me.

It’s easy to think of retreats and products around nonfiction, but what about fiction?

I know a group of authors who write Gothic romance who rent out a castle in Scotland and invite their readers for a weekend.

There is so much swag you can create around your book — print-on-demand companies make it easy to start a shop around your stories, with favorite quotes, characters, and world building.

You can offer one-off novellas, bonus chapters, teaching guides, journals.

So many options! The limit is your imagination and entrepreneurial spirit.

Affiliate sales

Every time you recommend your own book, a book you love, or a product that appears in your book, you can link to those products and get a percentage of the sales through companies like Awin and Amazon Affiliate Links.

Just be careful — this is regulated, so you have to be open and honest about when a link is an affiliate link.

Speaking gigs

You can give speaking gigs around your book for both fiction and nonfiction. It’s easier for nonfiction, and you tend to have to be a bigger author to get paid that way — but it is paid, and I’ve been paid pretty well to give a speech.

Subscription content

You can do subscription content on things like Substack or Patreon to have people be your benefactors and get a special look behind the scenes of your writing.

There Is More Money to be Made with a Series

It’s not just that more books sold equals more money coming in, it’s also that people love a series. Once you get someone hooked, they’re likely to continue buying them all.

I cannot tell you how many times I’ve continued a series even when I didn’t really like it, just because I wanted to see how it ended.

A friend of mine is a self-publishing data nerd and she knows that when someone buys her first book, they are 60% likely to buy the second and third, and 40% likely to go all the way to the fifth book.

That means 40% of the time she’s selling four more books than she would have sold otherwise. That’s how she makes more money than most of the authors I know.

When the profit margins are so low, it’s a numbers game, so if you want to make money off of your book royalties, consider creating books that are in a series or intertwined in a way that gets people to buy them all together.

Learn More in the Book

Want to go deeper on any of this? The Writer’s Career Guide breaks down advances, royalty payments, self-publishing structures, and everything else I couldn’t fit in one post. Go grab a copy today.

My Actual Numbers

As promised, I’m going to share my actual numbers with as much transparency as I can. My goal in doing this is to debunk the starving artist myth and show the reality of a writing career.

To some, these numbers will seem huge. To others, they’ll seem paltry. To me, they’re proof that I’m making a living as a writer, and that’s what matters most.

Read more

We’ve officially ended the crowdfunding campaign for my queer short film, No Animals Harmed!

Was it a success?

Well, that depends on how you define success.

Today I’m going to break down every step of that campaign — where the money came from, what we’re going to do with it, what I did that worked really well, and how I really messed up — and you can help me decide if it counts as a success.

The Hidden Costs of Crowdfunding

Let’s talk about what crowdfunding actually costs before you ever see a dollar.

• Kickstarter takes 5% of anything you make.

• If you use a fiscal sponsor, they usually take another 5%.

• Stripe credit card and processing fees run about 3%.

So right off the bat, you lose about 13% of whatever you make.

Then you need to add the industry standard 10% contingency fee for unexpected expenses in the process of making your film.

Which means you need to raise about 23-25% more than your actual budget.

The Pros and Cons of Using Seed&Spark to Crowdfund

For our crowdfunding campaign, we used a company called Seed&Spark specifically because they don’t charge the 5% fee that Kickstarter does.

That said, nobody warned me that Seed&Spark automatically adds a 25% tip to every single donation.

My less-than-tech-savvy friends and family members didn’t know how to turn that off and found themselves paying a lot more than they thought they would. Some even told me later that they lowered the amount they donated to compensate.

I also had multiple people tell me that their user interface was really complicated and they didn’t understand everything about it.

That said, I loved Seed&Spark for the ability to break your budget into line items, which means people can loan you the amount for a specific budget item. It makes funders feel like they’re a part of the film in a specific way, not just put money into a general fund.

But that contributed to another issue with Seed$Spark: it had a few too many options for donors.

They could make a pledge, join an incentive program, loan an item, or loan cash. A little confusing for some people.

On my end as a fundraiser, it was great. But if you plan on using it, just know that the donor experience is a little complicated.

Don’t Underestimate the Physical and Emotional Costs

Crowdfunding for a whole month was exhausting. I’ve done live launches on the internet for over 10 years, but they’re rarely more than two weeks.

On top of the extra-long promotional period, my timing was not great. Not only was it in the middle of two-weeks of Pride festivities here in San Diego and I was hosting family from out of town, I went into this process having just gotten a rejection that shook my confidence.

As I said last week, in the end, I had to just sit back and let what happens happen. All of this is part of life – and there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that life is going to keep doing its thing no matter what you’re planning.

For the future, I would think about the timing. I thought Pride would help us boost interest, but everyone was distracted, exhausted and broke from the events – myself and my team included.

And I would sleep more. I would rest more. I would ask for more help.

I hope this is a reminder to both of us to build the emotional and physical cost into whatever projects we take on in the future. It’s a lesson I keep learning the hard way.

What We Raised

Now it’s time to get to the real numbers. I’m sharing them here because the transparency of friends who did crowdfunding campaigns helped me to feel confident in running mine.

If you look at our Seed&Spark campaign page, it looks like we made $16,360.

That is not true.

Here’s the thing with Seed&Spark: people can donate their time or energy towards something, and that goes towards your overall campaign number. But that doesn’t mean you raised that much cash.

Here’s the breakdown of what we raised:

Through 43 generous people — thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who donated — we raised $5,900.

That’s an average of $137.20 per person, which is pretty amazing. Our lowest donation was $5, our highest was $500, and most of it came from people who were just super excited about us making a movie here in San Diego.

That’s 43 people who believe in this film!

I also personally put in $2,480 of my own money towards the campaign so we could hit our green light number. I can’t ask my people to give money if I’m not willing to give money as well.

That took us pretty close to our green light number — the amount Seed&Spark needs to actually charge everyone and release the funds. But it wasn’t quite close enough.

So we started thinking about post-production, and the way there are lots of grants to help finish a movie. Someone gave us a loan of services — something you can uniquely do on Seed&Spark — to help us apply for grants to cover post-production.

Fun fact: there are not that many grants out there to help you make a movie, but there are a lot of grants to help you finish a movie, especially queer films. Don’t worry — as we go down that path, I’ll share everything with you. No gatekeeping here.

So that is the $16,360 broken down:

• $5,900 raised by 43 generous donors

• $2,480 invested by me personally

• $7,980 loan of services to help us apply for post-production grants

• 100+ followers on the campaign

After processing fees, that gives us $8,128 in cash for the film — plus any grants we’re able to get, which we’re not counting yet because we don’t know if we’ll get them.

$8,128 is a very tight budget, but it’s enough for production.

Which means, we’re making our film this September!!

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So Was Our Campaign a Success?

We didn’t hit our $20,000 goal. But we did hit $8,128, which is enough for production in September.

Was that a success?

I burnt out in the process, but I also learned so much and connected with so many people and had a really beautiful time putting myself out there.

Was that a success?

What do you think?

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Here’s something I think about all the time when it comes to success:

Objectively, you could say my novel Because Fat Girl is a success — it’s in airports and bookstores, sold thousands of copies, read all over the USA and internationally.

And objectively, you could say it’s a failure — it didn’t hit the hundreds of thousands of copies we wanted, it never hit the New York Times bestsellers list.

You could call it a failure, or you can call it a success. It’s all about how you define it.

I define my books as successful by being done and out in the world. And that’s the same for this crowdfunding campaign.

We raised enough to make a movie!

That’s pretty damn cool, y’all.

And I’ll call that a success.

I Could Not Do This Without Your Support

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for being a part of this. Thank you for cheering us on, joining in, sharing the campaign, and donating.

This was a hard process for me and I would have absolutely given up if not for all of your messages of encouragement and support.

It means so much to me to have a community backing this film.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and creativity,
Lauren

P.S. If you watch the video for this post, you’ll see me showing off some ridiculously fabulous shorts and asking if they make me look like a clown who escaped the circus in a good way or a bad way. It’s worth watching for that alone. 🤡

Here’s the post I mention afterwards, about why body-positivity and self-confidence is the key to my success:

This should be a marketing email.

This should be me begging you one last time to donate to the crowdfunding campaign for my queer short film, No Animals Harmed.

Everything I’ve been taught about how to make money (read: be successful) tells me that I should go-go-go, push-push-push, don’t stop until you’ve reached your goal – which always seems to get bigger and bigger, never actually attainable.

But I’m kind of over that shit.

And I have a feeling you are too.

I’ve been over it for a while, to be honest. And yet I pushed and pushed, went and went, and in the process I burned myself out rather spectacularly.

Even worse, in my ambitious exhaustion, I made a bad decision that hurt a friend.

I want to make this movie.

I need money to make this movie.

But I also need rest, community, joy, energy, artistry, friendship, resilience, health, technical skills, practice, and patience to make this movie.

Those aren’t things money can buy – despite what capitalism likes to make us think.

Seeking a Softer Form of Motivation

I love my drive and ambition. It helped me get out of my conservative hometown where I felt unsafe being queer. It pushed me through self-doubt and around gatekeepers. It got me to travel the world, meet new people, and have the kind of experiences worth writing about.

It got me through twenty years of rejections, thirteen different books, and four agents until I finally fulfilled the dream of seeing my book in airports and stores across the nation, and read around the world.

It taught me to make the best of a shit situation and never give up, no matter what.

But now, I’m wondering if there’s a softer form of motivation I could embrace.

Maybe it’s that midlife awakening all my friends in their 40s and 50s seem to be experiencing.

Maybe it’s the pivotal planetary alignment astrologers keep posting about.

Maybe it’s that the world feels like it is on fire so I might as well slow down and enjoy life whenever I can, for as long as I can.

Whatever the reason, for about a year now, there’s been a version of myself calling to me from the future, encouraging me to slow down.

Be present.

Don’t push so hard.

Trust the unfolding of life on its own time.

I listened to it last year – and damn did that feel amazing.

Then I ignored it again – and damn did that lead me to some rough places full of misaligned choices and shot nerves.

So, I’m listening again.

I’m slowing down.

I’m asking what I really want.

I’m trying to trust that everything will work out.

Or it won’t.

All I can do is be present and grateful in this moment.

It’s a lesson I’ve had to learn over and over again. One I will probably keep having to learn until the day I die.

If it’s one you’re also learning right now, friend, I just want to remind you that you’re not alone. We’re all flawed and tender humans living in a fast-paced capitalist-centered world.

We are allowed to rush forward with excitement and glee, and we are allowed to stop and catch our breaths. Both are important parts of living a boldly creative life.

Wherever you are, whatever energy you’re feeling or not feeling, I hope you can meet yourself where you are with compassion, grace, and acceptance. That’s what I’m trying to do.

Some days, I even succeed at it.

And I hope you do too.

Because the world needs our stories, now more than ever.

With love,

Lauren

P.S. If you have the capacity, I’d love your help in funding my queer short film, No Animals Harmed. The crowdfunding campaign ends in less than 36 hours, and we’re almost to our goal. Can you help us reach it?

I’m lonely.

Are you lonely?

Let’s talk about it.

The Loneliness Epidemic

In spring of 2023, US Surgeon General Vivek Murthy declared loneliness an epidemic in the United States.

Murthy said that loneliness is not just a feeling — it creates a health risk for individuals and society. And while people started feeling lonelier during the COVID pandemic, this is a problem we’ve been having for way longer than that.

30% of people in the age group 30 to 44 — my age group — report feeling frequently or always alone or lonely.

57% of people surveyed — whether they experienced loneliness or not — said they were unable to share their true selves with people.

They found no real difference between women, men, and non-binary people, nor between political ideology, race, or ethnic identity. Education levels didn’t really play a part in it, but income did. People who made less felt a lot less supported.

The study described loneliness as “a fundamental sense of disconnection from others or the world.”

Here’s what people said they thought was causing it:

• 73% said technology was creating a barrier between them and connection with others.

• 62% said work was keeping them from meeting their needs in other ways. 60% said mental health challenges kept them from connecting.

• But 58% said that living in a hyper-individualistic society like the United States was the leading cause of feeling isolated, lonely, with no social support.

Our disconnection is causing our loneliness.

The Millennial Loneliness Problem

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we see this most in millennials — and not just because we’re in midlife. I think a part of is it because we grew up projecting a version of ourselves into the internet.

As somebody who puts up a polished front in so many ways, I share intimate parts of myself, but I also keep a part of myself for me. I come on and do these videos about how lonely I am, but I check my hair and my glasses and my lighting and my sound to make sure everything looks polished enough for the internet.

You gotta do it for the grid. You gotta ask what’s actually going to get people to read this. We’re all content creators now.

But there’s something else. There was a specific form of feminism — and do not get me wrong, I love feminism — but there was a specific form of feminism in my age group that was all about being the girl who is comfortable being alone. And I bought hard into that. I judged women who wanted to get married. I thought they were pathetic if they wanted to be in a relationship.

I saw woman after woman settling for shitty men, and I was like: that is not going to be me.

And instead of joining classes or group outings, I sat alone writing books in cafes. And I glorified that. And I still do, actually. I think it’s a really great thing to be somebody who is comfortable on your own.

But I took it way too far to the other side.

Did you?

I remember the specific Instagram video that went viral — even before reels — that praised the importance of time alone. Just you, not a book, not a TV on, nothing but you and your brain. And every woman I knew reposted it and sent it to me and said: this is what it means to be a mentally healthy, totally stable, wonderful feminist millennial woman.

I am not saying you should shack up with the wrong people. I am all about hard boundaries, and there are people in my life I do not let anywhere near me. I don’t think we should be around people just to be around people.

But I do think we need to do more collaborative stuff.

What I’m Doing About It

When this study came out in 2023, I realized I had been a serious victim of this loneliness epidemic. It was really affecting my mental health.

So here are some things I decided to do to help break the cycle.

One, when my novel Because Fat Girl came out, I decided it was going to be a collaborative, fun party that I was going to do with people.

My book didn’t hit any of those giant lists I wanted it to hit, but I felt like it was a major success because I got to do it with my people.

Two, I decided to spend a year dating.

I revived my Queerie Bradshaw blog — the very first thing I ever wrote on the internet, about my dating and sex life. I did my 33 Asks® program and went out and asked 33 people to go on dates with me. I started putting myself out there with the intention not just of dating, but of being surrounded by as many queer people as often as possible.

And three — this one is probably the most exciting — I decided to make a movie!

In April, I sat in a meeting where they defunded the arts in San Diego, and I thought: I want to do something here. I want to bring a group of artists together and make something.

The kind of movies I want to make, I literally can’t do by myself. So it has been a forcing mechanism for me to remove this idea that I’ll just do it alone, that I don’t need to ask for help.

I don’t know the answer to the loneliness epidemic, but I think that collaboration, community, and creativity is a major part of it.

Which is why I’m bringing you all along on my filmmaking journey with me.

Not just because I need you to make the movie, which I do. I need your talent, I need your cheerleading, and I need your help funding the crowdfunding campaign. But because I’m tired of this idea that we should do it all on our own.

Wherever you are in the world, you may not be able to be on set, but you can join us by following the crowdfunding campaign and getting behind-the-scenes messages, by subscribing to my Substack, YouTube, and Instagram.

And if you’re in San Diego, by coming and joining us on set!

I’m hoping this is one of multiple projects I’m able to make here in San Diego, locally in my community, with you around the world joining in virtually — so we feel more connected and less alone.

That’s the answer to everything that’s going on: connection and community. That is how we break this idea that there is no hope. That is how we don’t let the current political situation silence our voices.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and creativity,
Lauren

P.S. The crowdfunding campaign for No Animals Harmed is officially ON — and I’d love your help getting this film made. Every donation and every share matters more than you know.

Check out NoAnimalsHarmedFilm.com to see how you can be part of it. I literally could not do this without you.

There’s going to be a moment in your life when you think it is not worth it to make art anymore. You will think of all of the money you’ve wasted and the time that’s gone, and you’re going to wonder: what’s the point?

If you’re there right now – or if you’ve ever been there – today’s post is for you.

Keep Climbing The Mountain

The day I recorded this video, I faced a rejection that hit me at my core and had me on the floor crying, wondering if I’m ever going to “make it” in this world, both as an artist and as a tenderhearted human.

In that moment, as I’d done many other times through the decades of my life, I called one of my best friends, Kylee.

And in her infinite wisdom, she reminded me that I’m not failing, I’m climbing the mountain. I don’t need to give up, I just need a moment to rest and catch my breath.

“This reminds me of the call we had a couple years ago,” Kylee said.

It was right after my 40th birthday and life was really rough for me. I had fibroids that were causing me to bleed nonstop, I was on triple hormones trying to stop them, and my nephew had just died of cancer, which was tragic and brought up all the feels around my brother dying of cancer.

I remember texting Kylee from a Trader Joe’s parking lot because I was crying too hard to call. I had just gotten an email from my agent. Everybody had passed on my book. There was nothing else we could do. We had to walk away from this book.

I was truly shocked.

I’d thought this was the one.

20 years of trying to get into publishing. Seven years of actively sending books out to publishers. Four different books, three different agents. I had seven publishers interested. I thought there was going to be a bidding war. We were so sure this was going to finally be my breakout hit. This was the book that would take me to the next level.

And it died on submission.

I was devastated.

I’d hit rock bottom before, after my brother died, and I thought I would never get there again. But that day in the Trader Joe’s parking lot, it felt like being there again.

With the help of Kylee and many other friends, I sat in that moment, not bypassing it, but recognizing how hard it was. I threw an epic pity party (instructions on how I did that here), I cried a lot, I rested, I caught my breath.

Then I went back out there and kept climbing the mountain.

Not much time later, things turned around.

Publishers got interested in the book. I signed with one I loved. And that novel – Because Fat Girl – has been in bookstores and airports across the nation and read around the world.

I even dedicated it to Kylee – and she came on a multi-city tour with me.

All because I didn’t let rejection stop me.

Make The Ask the Win

That story is why, when rejection knocked me down again this week, Kylee was the first person I called.

She reminded me – and I’m here reminding you – that we all face rejection every single day. It’s a part of living a boldly creative life.

It hurts and it’s so very hard. Some of these rejections knock us down and take our breath out. But I want to be the kind of person who is courageous enough to ask for what they want in life. And I’m guessing you do too if you’re still reading this.

Kylee reminded me of what I tell people all the time in my 33 Asks® program: you have to make the ask the win.

You have to see putting yourself out there as a victory on its own.

You have to detach from the outcome as much as possible.

To live a boldly courageous and creative life, you have to ask for what you want, say what you need to say, and then let go of your attachment to the other person’s response.

Sometimes you’re going to pour your heart out to someone and they’re going to say no in response. Sometimes that no is going to hurt a deep part of your soul that feels unworthy.

But if you stop there, you’ll never get to ask the person who will say yes.

What To Do If You’re Facing Rejection

If you’re facing rejection right now, know that you’re not alone. And that I’m so damn proud of you for putting yourself out there and asking for what you want.

That’s living a boldly creative life.

If you want support in doing that, here are two things I created for myself and now teach others because they helped me so much:

• Creative Life Blueprint — knowing the purpose, the goal, the passion, and where I want to go in life helps me get over the rejections.

  • You can read this free Substack post breaking down the basics.

  • The book with all the details is coming soon!

• 33 Asks® — Build confidence, recover from rejection, and share your work with joy using a simple one-page sticker-chart system that makes self-promotion playful (and sustainable).

  • You can find the free Substack post breaking down the basics of 33 Asks® here.

  • You can learn about the full program at 33Asks.com.

Both of those Substack posts have audio you can listen to as well, to make it easier and more digestible for you.

Knowing my life’s purpose and learning how to make the ask the win keeps me going in times like this, and I hope both those free Substack posts – and this one – help you feel more capable and confident to put yourself out there as a creative.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and creativity,
Lauren

P.S. As Beyoncé says, the best revenge is your paper. Or in this case, the best response of the rejection that had me crying is to make the best short film I can make. But I can’t do that without your help!

I’m making a queer short film here in San Diego, and our crowdfunding campaign is on right now. We are a very low budget film, but we can’t make the movie if we don’t have the fund to do things like rent gear, pay for the venue, and feed our cast and crew.

There are free and paid ways you can support – but you’ve gotta do it before our deadline of July 24.

Check out how you can help us get this movie made at NoAnimalsHarmedFilm.com.

I’ve started this post and the accompanying video over like 10 times, and every time I go to start it, I want to say I’m triggered — which feels hyperbolic because I’m just talking about tech

But then I think about the fact that I came home from an event to teach me tech recently, and I called myself a failure. And I almost canceled the whole thing, including making a movie.

So today we’re going to talk about tech and how it can be really hard for women to not feel like they have to be perfect with technology before they move forward in some kind of creative pursuit.

My Credentials (That I Keep Forgetting I Have)

I have an undergrad in film. I’m returning to filmmaking after a 20-year detour in publishing — with this little side quest called getting a law degree.

I feel like I need to say that I’m not a tech expert and I don’t really know that much about tech, and like, you should totally go to somebody who knows what they’re talking about. Because what would little old me know?

I find myself constantly minimizing the actual experience I have of using technology all the time, every day. Taking classes on it. Going to workshops where I can get my hands on it and learn from other people. Going to conferences to learn it.

I’m the person my family calls when there’s a tech issue!

But right now I’m working on my first short film, No Animals Harmed — please check it out, we would love your support — and I’m finding myself having real physiological panic over the tech.

How do I work a camera?

What about lighting?

What the heck is a gaffer or a grip?

G&E — I just realized — is gear and equipment.

Why didn’t I learn any of this in film school?

I came back from two events recently – the Alliance of Women Directors conference and a San Diego Film and Equipment and San Diego Women in Cinema event – and realized that this was the first time I’d seen women actively teaching this stuff as experts.

I started thinking about the way that I just assumed my little creative brain could never figure this out.

Why hadn’t I seen women doing this before now?

Where does this idea that women naturally suck at tech come from?

If you answered misogyny — ding, ding, ding, you’re correct.

I understand that I blame misogyny all the time when talking about what held me back. And I am the first person to say I held myself back, for sure. But I think it’s part of oppression to convince you that it’s your fault that you didn’t make it through the overwhelming oppression.

I looked back at film school and I wasn’t even offered the cinematography classes. The directing class was encouraged for my guy friends and not for me.

None of those boys knew anything about how to do any of the tech — and yet I just assumed boys could figure it out, but I couldn’t.

What’s that saying? If boys can do it, how hard can it be?

I would go to the film festivals, I would go to the gear classes, I would go to the places and try to figure it out — and I would get talked down to like: “Oh, you’re a cute little girly. Just go back to your little writing thing.”

I am somebody who does things imperfectly all the time, so why do I feel like my tech systems have to be perfect?

I built an online school. I’ve had sales funnels. I’ve launched courses and programs. I’ve made multiple six figures. All of that required tech. All of it is online. Every part of my business is online.

And yet every time an email has a glitch, every time a system doesn’t work exactly right, every time a funnel’s off, I just think: ugh, I can’t do this stuff. It’s just not for me.

In the same way that I’ve always been like: oh, I’m just bad at math.

And I think back to first grade when I was actually really good at math. I was better than everybody else in the class at math, until fourth grade, when I got made fun of for being good at math. And then I got into fifth grade, and I had a teacher who actively put me down for how smart I was.

A male teacher, by the way.

I think about the statistics about how girls do better in school until fifth grade, when puberty hits and suddenly they have to be beautiful, not smart.

I’m someone who prides herself on her intelligence. I work my brain a lot. And yet when it comes to tech, I think of myself as an idiot — even though I am so much more competent than most of the people in my life when it comes to this.

In fact, I felt so incompetent that I didn’t even ask at this event — of women who were being super supportive and encouraging us to ask questions — what’s a gaffer? What’s a grip? What does G&E mean?

I came up with all these reasons.

I’m too old. I’m 43. I’m not that old.

I’m too dumb. I’m actually a really smart person who could figure this out.

I’m just not that great at tech. I’m the person everybody calls when they need tech help.

God, Give Me the Confidence of a Mediocre White Man

I’ve seen mediocre white men make millions. I’ve seen them make movies. I’ve seen them become president of our country.

So why do I think that I have to have a perfect email sequence to run a business, or understand everything having to do with lighting to make a movie?

I hire a gaffer — which I now know is the chief lighting and electrician on a film set. And they go along with a grip, who works all the other equipment that’s not lighting and electrical.

Two things I didn’t realize while I took this course. Two things that I left film school not knowing.

Film school!

Gaffer and grip are two of the biggest things on a film set, and I left film school not knowing what those meant — and being too ashamed to ask because I thought I was dumb.

The fact that it wasn’t in here, that I didn’t know it, when I can remember everything from the critique classes and the writing classes they encouraged us to take — the “women’s classes.”

I’m not going to let imperfection stop me from making this movie.

I’m going to mess it up. I’m going to learn, just like the boys did. Hands-on, figuring it out myself, with a team of women and queers around me supporting me and cheering me on.

And a couple of male allies.

I’m so grateful that I’ve built a creative career and a kind of life where I can say: hey, guess what? I don’t know what I’m doing. I know a lot — I’ve been a storyteller and a visual storyteller for over 20 years — but I don’t know how to run electrical equipment.

I’m allowed to do it mediocre and scared and hard and before I feel ready.

And friends, so are you.

So if there is a tech thing you’re trying to learn, if there’s a term you don’t know, if there’s a trigger you have when it comes to something — know that you’re not alone. Don’t let that stop you from going out there and using your voice and making art and doing something creative today.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and creativity,
Lauren

P.S. The crowdfunding campaign for No Animals Harmed is officially ON — and I'd love your help getting this film made.

Every donation and every share matters more than you know. It feels like a pat on the back and whisper in my ear “keep going!” I literally could not do this without you.

Check out NoAnimalsHarmedFilm.com to see how you can be part of the team.

There is a direct correlation for me between learning to confidently wear a bikini at the beach and making my new movie.

Learning to love the skin I’m in has been a complete game changer for every aspect of my career.

Stepping into the power of my body, learning to love myself as I am as a queer fat woman, and writing queer fat women in a positive light, all made it so I learned to trust other things about myself, including my own voice.

Having the confidence to walk on the beach in a bikini and feel good, no matter what my size, helped me have the confidence to go to law school, to walk into meetings with celebrities, to start my own company, and to know that I’m a badass who belongs in any room.

And then when I started dating people because I was confident in my body, and interacting with people when I was confident in my body, I realized that all those haters were wrong all the time:

You do not have to be thin to find love and success in life.

There are plus-size women out there killing it every single day in every single industry.

I remember seeing Melissa McCarthy in Spy and thinking: oh my God, this is what I needed my whole life.

The more I’m out here in my bathing suit, unapologetically being me and telling my stories, the more other people can be as well.

And then suddenly, if the culture can be wrong about fat bodies, what else can they be wrong about?

The naysayers who said I could never make it as a writer, that my queerness was wrong, that I would never find love, that no one would ever like me if I was neurodiverse, that I would never be able to make it as an artist.

I’ve proven all of them wrong.

But one of the first things I had to prove wrong was this idea that fat bodies are bad bodies.

Empowering, Empathetic, and Entertaining Stories

As I’m out here making stories about queer fat women finding love and joy, I’m actively changing the narrative so we can all see ourselves in the happily ever after that we deserve.

Seeing my book Because Fat Girl in airports across the nation and bookstores all over, on the shelves of people who love it, lines of people waiting to have me sign their book because they related so much with the characters — it helped me to realize how badly we need stories like mine.

So if you like stories of queer fat women, if you just like diverse stories in general, if you want to feel great in your body because of the narratives I’m telling — check out my novel Because Fat Girl and my upcoming movie, No Animals Harmed.

If this resonated with you, be sure to subscribe so you don’t miss a post,

Subscribe now

And also follow along on Instagram and YouTube where I’m sharing what I’ve learned about moviemaking and what I know about publishing — everything within a queer, body positive lens — so you can go out there and do it yourself too.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and creativity,
Lauren

P.S. Want to help queer stories out in the world? Check out the amazing incentives we have for those who pre-order and help fund my new movie No Animals Harmed.

For 20 years, I dreamt of making a short film, but I could never figure out how to write one.

Until one day, I accidentally did.

And now, I’ve got no choice but to turn it into a movie.

Why I Walked Away from my Hollywood Dreams

When I was a kid, I had this dream of making movies full of queer, fat, women like me.

And then I got to film school, and that dream died. It felt like the boys were being encouraged to go into directing and producing, and I was encouraged to become a critic of the boys’ films.

Sometimes I think this was all in my head. But then I talk to other people who went to school with me, and I realize that all of us women were discouraged from going to Hollywood.

And to be fair, at that time, it was really bad for women in Hollywood. It was really bad for openly gay people like me. And it was really bad for fat people.

A professor pulled me aside and told me that if I went into publishing and made a great book — one that got enough success — I could use that as a way to get into film.

So I went into publishing.

I wrote multiple books. I worked for national magazines. I had a couple of side quests: one into getting a law degree, and one into working for a motivational speaker — a big name you would probably know.

Then I started my company, School for Writers, so I could help other writers understand the process of writing a book.

Throughout all of that, I dreamt of making movies.

In fact, my hit rom-com Because Fat Girl is about a director who never gave up on that dream. It was my way of reimagining my life if I hadn’t given up on moviemaking.

And then when that book was out and a success — in airports across the nation, with lines of people waiting for me to sign it — I had to think: what’s next?

Filmmaking.

I kind of had no choice.

The Cancelled Class That Changed Everything

Still, I felt stuck on what to make. Did I write a feature? Did I try a short film? Did I apply to be in a writer’s room for a TV show?

So I did what most nerds do: I took a class.

Actually, I took a whole TV Comedy Writing certification program from UCLA. Because I’ve always been an overachiever.

I was bracing myself to move to L.A. – where I’d been told I’d have to live if I wanted a chance at making movies – until one day, a class got canceled, and another student said: “Hey, a bunch of us are transferring to a sketch comedy class. Do you want to come along?”

Honestly, I was hesitant because I hate improv and I’ve always thought of sketch comedy as a version of improv. But then he told me the kind of shows this professor had worked on, and I was like: oh, I loved those shows.

So I joined the class.

Suddenly I was studying the greats and loving it. Kate McKinnon. Leslie Jones. Amy Poehler. And even back in the day, the unnamed women in sketch comedy who hadn’t yet gotten an opportunity because they were behind the scenes while all the men took the credit.

A few of them came and talked to our class. And man, it was just as bad as everybody said it was back then. It made me kind of glad I went into lesbian publishing instead.

As an exercise in the class, I started coming up with ridiculous ideas for sketches. Some of them were horrible, but some were really great. One day, I came up with the most ridiculous idea of them all, and had to run with it.

The idea actually came from my novel Because Fat Girl. While I was editing it, a couple of people told me it was offensive to both lesbians and vegans — which, if you’ve read the book, it’s not. It’s actually quite nuanced and lovely and caring.

It does have a moment where it makes fun of one particular lesbian vegan, though. She’s based on an ex, so I’m okay with that.

I took the idea of what made everybody mad — this idea that people could be easily offended just by the concept, without ever having read the book itself — and I thought:

What can I do to make this absolutely hilarious?

A Lesson in Sketch Comedy

As I worked on my script, I learned the Four Beats of Sketch Comedy. And I’m sharing them here with you in case they help you follow comedic dreams of your own.

The Four Beats of Sketch Comedy

1. You have the initiation — the concept, the idea, the setup.

2. Then you have an unusual thing that comes in and amps the game up or switches it up. T

3. hen you escalate that switch-up.

4. And then sometimes you do another twist at the end — and then you end it right there, as soon as possible. Studying sketch after sketch after sketch, I realized that the good ones end before you think they need to.

In the film industry, each page of a script is roughly one minute on screen. For a sketch, you need about three minutes max. My idea was seven to ten pages — way over.

So I brought it to class to workshop it. I asked: how can I make this shorter?

It turns out — if I may be so braggy — they loved it. The class said: please don’t cut it. This is comedic genius.

So I said: okay, but I want to make sketches, and this is a sketch comedy class. If I have this idea, how do I cut it down?

And my teacher said: there’s one really simple fix.

Turn it into a short film.

And that’s where my script came from.

My Film in the Four Beats:

1. Concept: I took the clichés of veganism. I took the clichés of lesbians. And then I took the clichés of the opposite of all of that — the twist — which is a straight white guy trying so hard to be woke.

2. I escalated the cliches and twists.

3. I put another twist on the end.

4. And then ended it way before I thought I should — but right at the exact button, the hilarious ending.

Suddenly, I had a polished script.

And with a polished script, I had no choice but to turn it into a film.

Your Four-Minute Mile

I think about Roger Bannister a lot.

In 1954, he ran a four-minute mile — something everyone thought was physically impossible before then. Since Roger Bannister did it, over 2,000 people have ran that “impossible” four-minute mile.

By seeing other people make sketch comedies, write short film scripts, and actually make them, I felt like I finally saw the path forward. I knew you could run a four-minute mile. I knew you could make a short film independently.

And by sharing publicly every part of this process, I’m hoping to inspire you to go out there and do whatever your four-minute mile is.

What is the thing that feels impossible? The thing you’ve maybe put off forever, or only half-assed for years, and it’s finally time to put yourself fully in?

Let me know in the comments so I can cheer you on.

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I hope that by sharing every single part of making this movie, I’m encouraging you to go out there and use your voice in whatever way feels the most powerful to you.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love,

Lauren

P.S. Did you find this helpful? Share it with a friend who has a dream they’ve been putting off.

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And be sure to follow along here on Substack, and on YouTube, Instagram, and Spotify or Apple Podcasts as well.

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Want to hear a shocking statistic that I absolutely hate?

In 2025, women held just 16% of directing roles and 7% of cinematographer roles.

Those numbers haven’t changed much in decades. Hollywood is structurally frozen when it comes to women.

But after spending a weekend at a conference for the Alliance of Women Directors, I am seeing how women are taking things into their own hands, especially in the indie world.

This weekend, I saw that the studios might not be progressing, but women absolutely are absolutely changing the game and thriving as filmmakers.

A Girl Like You Can’t Make it In Hollywood

In 2001, I entered film school. I left four years later completely and totally convinced that I could never make it in this industry. It was just too misogynistic, homophobic, and fat phobic for someone like me.

I spent years thinking I wasn’t brave enough for Hollywood. You can read all about that here.

After I put out my novel Because Fat Girl, all about a woman trying to make her directing dreams com true, and I thought “if my characters can do this, why can’t I?”

But I hadn’t seen women making it. I had two women professors in all of film school, and neither of them were directing movies. The Oscars are notorious for excluding women from the Best Director category, and it’s hard to even find women directed movies streaming.

I had no idea how to make it in this industry as a woman.

So, one of the first things I did when I decided to make a movie was seek other women as proof that it could be done.

The Alliance of Women Directors

You know that stereotype where women are pitted against each other — we see each other as competition, we’re mean, we’re catty, we’re bitchy?

I saw that a lot twenty years ago when I entered the industry. Every woman seemed like the other one’s competition. All the marginalized, minority, and historically underrepresented communities were seen as each other’s competition.

But I saw none of that at the Alliance of Women Directors Back to Set conference.

It was one of the most diverse rooms of creatives I’ve ever been in. Everybody looked amazing. The fashion was so on point. There was a ton of diversity of size, racial identity, ethnic identity, and sexual orientation. And the best thing of all, everybody was super friendly.

As a 43-year-old reentering the industry, I thought for sure I would feel so behind, that if I talked to people about my history I would get this “oh, well, who are you, and you’re starting too late.” I had so many ideas of the rejection I would get.

But every single person I told my story to said one of two things:

One, they agreed with me and completely validated that this fear of the misogyny and the homophobia and the fatphobia and the horrific way they treat women, and the hurdles we have to overcome in this industry, is absolutely correct.

Throughout the weekend, again and again, I heard stories about how hard it is for women to make it as directors and cinematographers in this industry. That is not just in my head. I am not just making it up. It is real.

And two, they welcomed me with open arms back into the fold.

Every single woman I talked to was completely supportive of my dreams. It was the epitome of collaboration over competition. We cheered each other on, we helped each other with resources, and we followed up with each other to see how we could continue to support each other past this weekend.

I will never forget sitting around the table the first day at lunch and talking to women about what has changed in the industry, and everybody at that table agreeing that the misogyny hasn’t gotten any better — but now women aren’t putting up with it.

We are banding together, having groups like this, and we are saying we’re going forward regardless of what men say. We are going to protect each other from the predators in the industry. We are going to mentor each other and lift each other up and open doors for each other. We cannot keep waiting for the industry to change.

We are changing it ourselves.

And that was absolutely beautiful.

No Gatekeeping

What shocked me the most – in a good way – was the open sharing of information.

Every single person who got up and spoke shared everything they knew about the craft. Because we understand that hiding how you do it is not going to keep us going forward as a group.

Misogyny is enough of a gatekeeper already.

So if we can share our knowledge with each other, share our structures and our processes with each other, mentor each other — we can create more jobs and more opportunities for each other.

Because again, we are not each other’s competition.

My Promise to You

I left this event with 80 pages of notes to make me a better director and a better human.

And I left it even more dedicated to sharing my journey with you and sharing all the information I learn along the way with you.

Because if my process can help you with my knowledge in any way possible — if it can encourage you to see that it’s possible, get the skills you need, and go out and try it yourself — I’m going to share as much information as I can.

That includes:

• My process of living a creative life through my Creative Life Blueprint

• My process of putting myself out there and asking for what I want through 33 Asks®

• My process of writing a book in Write Your Friggin’ Book Already®

• My process of making money in my Writer’s Career Guide

• My process of learning to come back to film that I’m sharing here on Substack, Instagram, and YouTube

If any of it can help you live a boldly creative life in any way at all, that’s what I’m here for.

I am all about collaboration over competition, and this weekend just showed how that can not only change your life, but make a ripple effect in the world.

The more people are out there using their voice, the more powerful we are to shape the narrative to be more inclusive of voices like our own.

And this matters so much right now. It is one of the biggest pieces of activism that I can do as a creative, and you can do as a creative.

So follow along if you want to learn as I learn. And go out there knowing that I’m here cheering you on.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love,
Lauren

P.S. We’re launching the crowdfunding campaign for my short film very soon. There are some GREAT incentives included, and ways to help at any level. So keep an eye out for that!

As I start to cast, hire crew, and crowdfund for my first film, I’m scared that I have no idea what I’m doing.

It feels even scarier to admit that publicly (so scary, in fact, I’ve put off sending this email for over a week now).

I worry people will think less of me if they know that I’m nervous about doing this. I worry no one will join the crew if they know I’m new. I worry no one will audition if they know I’ve only directed theater and motivational speakers. I worry people will judge – or worse pity – me if they know of my fear.

Which is ironic, because I get so much inspiration from other people’s bravery. I love cheering on friends who take on new and nerve-racking projects. I applaud imperfections in other people’s pursuit of art and love.

But me? Oh no, I obviously have to look like I’ve got my shit together at all times.

Does that sound familiar?

If you’re still reading, I’m going to guess this idea of self-inflicted perfectionism resonates.

You might also have a creative project you’re dreaming of right now that you’re not sure how to get off the ground. (This post and this post can help!)

Maybe for you it’s a trip you want to take, language you want to explore, or relationship you want to foster. Maybe you’re also feeling too old, too scared, or too overwhelmed with the political climate to have the energy to be brave.

Or maybe, like me, you tried once, and felt like a scared failure when it didn’t work out.

If fear is holding you back, I have some good news, and I have some bad news.

Bad news, it’s not going away.

Good news, you’re not alone.

Recently, I listened to Michelle Obama and Craig Robinson interview Steven Spielberg for their podcast. Spielberg is notoriously reclusive when talking about his own life, preferring to focus on his art, but in this interview they went personal.

And in it, he shared that every single film feels like a scary new venture for him.

Yes, even the great Steven Spielberg gets nervous about making a movie.

He is surrounded by a loyal family-like crew that has been with him for decades, and yet the story, the actors, the sets, even some of that crew, it’s all new. Which means the expectations, the excitement, and the nerves are all new as well.

It’s got me wondering if any of us ever has an idea what we’re doing, or if we’re all just doing it scared and adjusting as we go.

And I think this might be especially true when it comes to love and art, the two things I’m exploring most in life right now.

It’s easy to say, “do it scared” but it’s another thing to actually do the damn thing when you’re shaking and feel like you’re going to puke.

I felt less alone as an artist, filmmaker, and human being in this world, knowing that even Steven Spielberg gets nervous starting a new project. It gave me inspiration to share that I am scared, nervous, and excited all at once — in case you also needed to know you’re not alone.

Some days, the only thing that gets me through is to think about how my bravery allows others to feel brave.

I came out when I was twelve. It felt like both nothing and everything at once. I’d known forever, everyone around me had known as well, and yet saying that I liked girls out loud suddenly made me the target of vitriol.

That I had anticipated. Since my early childhood, I’d been bullied for being fat, loud, and queer in every sense of the word. As heartbreaking as it sounds, I just expected people to always hate me for being me.

I’d always liked myself, but I just assumed no one would ever like me back. It’s a common theme in my work and a core wound I’m still trying to heal.

What I hadn’t anticipated were the people who whispered “me too” in my ear, confiding in me privately until they were ready to publicly say it.

I hadn’t known that my bravery would inspire others, who would in turn make me feel less alone and more brave.

Bravery is a glorious and magical cycle.

You just need someone to take the first step and get it started.

So, here I am, saying that I’m scared shitless I’m going to mess this short film up, but I’m doing it anyway, because I want to live a boldly creative life.

What about you?

What’s scaring you that you’re pushing through?

Where are you feeling brave these days?

Let me know in the comments.

Leave a comment

Let’s inspire each other to go out there and do it scared.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love,

Lauren

P.S. I’m working on the crowdfunding incentives for my short film. If you have any ideas, I’d love to hear them! Picking the incentives is, hilariously, the scariest part of crowdfunding to me right now.

P.P.S. I still need cast and crew for my film!

• Want to join the crew? We need lighting, hair, makeup, sound, props, costumes, the works! Let me know if you want to join us by filling out this form.

• Want to the cast? I extended the deadline to June 15, so there’s still time to get your audition in! Fill out this form.

Do you ever feel like you’re just too old for something?

Lately, I’ve found myself worrying that I’m “past my prime” — which is hilarious considering I’m only 43. Statistically speaking, I’m only halfway through my life.

With my family’s genes, I could live to be 45 or 105. You never know.

What I do know is that life is too short to wait to go after your dreams.

Still, as I start pre-production on my first short film, I worry I’m way too late to the game.

Maybe it’s because I’ve had a bunch of surgeries lately. Maybe it’s because I started noticing the wrinkles in my face. Or maybe it’s because I’m trying to reenter an industry that values youth above all.

I keep wondering when I’m going to be brave enough to feel worthy of going after what I really want in life.

And then I have to laugh, because I already am.

I’ve Never Made One of Those Big Lists

I haven’t hit the New York Times Bestsellers list or been listed by Time or Out Magazines as an influential person.

I’m too late for one of those 40-Under-40 lists. Do they ever do 100 Under 100? I’d could maybe make that.

I was featured on the Autostraddle “50 Queer Women with Outrageously Good Hair” list in 2012. Peak of my career.

Other than that one brief brush – pun intended – with fame, I’ve never really been able to “make it big” in a way that got me to the level of success I expected by this age.

If I followed the advice I was given in my early twenties, by this time in life I should have $500,000 in retirement savings, a husband, two kids, and a dog.

One out of four ain’t bad?

At the very least, by 43 I thought I’d have my shit together in life.

But what does it even mean to have your shit together?

• I’ve been through decades of therapy, processed my trauma and I’m able to regulate my emotions. That’s together.

• I’ve got a creative business that pays my bills, a positive net worth, and financial stability. That’s together.

• I know how to keep it together under pressure.

• I can put an outfit together.

• I am great at gathering lovely humans together.

Does that mean I “have my shit together” as a 43 year old?

Your guess is as good as mine.

The Joy of Being “Over the Hill”

I grew up with people throwing graveyard themed parties when people turned 40 – the idea being that your life was over.

“It’s all downhill from here,” they would say.

But lately I’ve been wondering if it’s downhill in a good way.

Maybe time goes faster when you get older because you’re no longer carrying heavy baggage of youth.

Take my film career for example.

In my twenties, everyone in and out of film school made it very clear that Los Angeles would be horrible to a fat, queer, woman like me. I avoided filmmaking for two decades because of that.

In my forties, I don’t care if someone doesn’t like my body – I love it. I’m about as far out of the closet as someone can get and I couldn’t hide my queerness even if I wanted to. And I took years of self-defense classes, so I know exactly what to do if a man even tries to touch me in appropriately.

Making a short film now, the process is significantly less scary and more easeful than it was when I made my last film in 2005 – precisely because I am older.

Besides confidence and my mean right hook, I also come with twenty years of storytelling under my belt and a decade of working on massive live events that are like film productions.

I’ve been to law school, have done countless 33 Asks® sticker charts to build up my resilience, and have the confidence that if I can find a way to make it happen.

But even if I didn’t have all of that, I would still want to go after this goal.

Even if you are starting from zero, your dreams are still worth pursuing, no matter what your age.

And then, there’s dating.

Professionally, I have the confidence of a Queen. I easily converse with everyone from world leaders to best selling novelists, celebrities to sound techs.

But put me in front of a cute queer and suddenly I’m an awkward preteen staring at her crush from across the gym, unable to get the guts up to ask her to dance.

At least that’s how I was for the first 25 years of my dating life.

Then I turned 40 and suddenly I was a hot cougar.

In my 20’s, I dated closeted women who hid me away. Growing up, I’d been told how dangerous it was for me to be queer, how disgusting my body was for being fat, and that no one would want me because I was too loud and opinionated.

I liked myself, but I believed that no one else could like me, so I settled for assholes who treated me like I thought I deserved.

In my 40’s, I don’t give a $#!+ if you like me or not. I love myself and that’s all that matters. That love shines through and attracts others to me in ways I’d never experienced before – and am still not used to.

Plus, I just happen to be middle aged when it’s trending to date older women. It’s a whole thing right now, and I am regularly hit on by people who weren’t even born when I came out.

And while Lauren of even two years ago would have been flattered – and probably would have taken them up on the offer – these days I’m looking for something more substantial.

Which means I have to change my tactics.

What does a “thirst trap” look like when you’re 43 years old, have a successful career, and are looking for somebody who is emotionally regulated, financially stable, and wants to travel the world with you?

How do you swipe right on personality?

How do you check for talent on a dating app?

How do you filter for “I’ve been through some shit and I’ve healed through it, and I want you to have been through some shit and healed too”?

How does one date in their 40’s?

If you know how, please share with me. I can use all the dating tips I can get.

Leave a comment

Arriving with Leverage

I’m not going to lie, it is scary to explore a new storytelling medium in my forties. I can’t stop thinking that there’s no way I’ll catch up to the people who started twenty years ago.

But I would never tell a painter that she is too old to learn to sing.

I would never discourage an accountant from learning to roller skate.

I would never tell a child that she is too fat, queer, and feminine to follow her passions.

Even if people told me that.

So then, I will not tell my 43-year-old self that she is too late, too old, and too inexperienced to try something new.

And I hope that by sharing my journey, I am able to inspire and encourage you to go after your dreams as well – regardless of your age or experience level.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and art,

Lauren

P.S. Are you trying something new in your life? Reply and let me know, I’d love to cheer you on.

Leave a comment

Sharing Is Caring

If you’re interested in making movies, or just love to hear about the process, these books are great to pick up:

• Story by Robert McKee – the book everyone in the industry insists you read and truly a great one for any storytellers out there, regardless of your genre

• Dialogue by Robert McKee – this gave me such great tips for writing better scenes between characters

• The Original by Priya Parmar – I love how queer this book is and how wonderfully alive Hollywood feels in this novel

If you found this post to be inspiring, you’ll love my books:

• The Writer’s Career Guide: How to Build a Sustainable Creative Life on Your Terms – if you want to start a writing career and get paid for your creative work, I put everything I know into this book

• Bawdy Love: 10 Steps to Profoundly Loving Your Body – with its journal prompts and coloring pages, this book is fun and healing

• Because Fat Girl – a perfect summer read if you want to escape into a world of filmmaking that has fabulous fashion and a happy ending for all

Some of these are affiliate links, meaning I get a % if you buy through this link. It’s an easy way to support my work and get a great new read.

This summer I’m making a queer romcom here in San Diego with local cast and crew — and I want you to join in the fun.

Wow. It feels scary and exciting to say that out loud!

If you want to know why this is such a HUGE deal for me, here are some past posts talking about my history with film and television:

• Returning to My First Love of Filmmaking — And Asking If It’s Too Late

• Will This Help Me Win an Oscar Surrounded by People I Love?

• I Spent Years Thinking I Wasn’t Brave Enough for Hollywood

Long story short:

I started my career in film school, was highly discouraged from going into directing for Hollywood because I was a queer, fat, and femme.

A thoughtful professor told me I could have better luck in film if I wrote the book first, so I spent twenty years in publishing working on building up my brand as a writer.

Now, I have a book in almost every bookstore and airport in the nation and I’m ready to make films again – on my own terms.

Doing it My Way

Going into publishing, getting a law degree, and running my own business all looked like detours, but the whole time I kept my eye on the ultimate goal: multimedia storytelling.

My novel Because Fat Girl is a fictionalized memoir set in a world where I did move to L.A. to become a director. For two decades, I’ve gone to film festivals, taken classes, and read books on filmmaking. I’ve directed and produced numerous live events. I’ve kept my craft going even when Hollywood wasn’t watching.

When I panic that I’m forty-three and it’s way too late for me, I remind myself of this:

I’m not arriving late. I am arriving with experience.

Since I was a teen, I’ve felt like I was too late to the game. But life has taught me that no matter what age we are, there’s still time.

I’d love to know: what dreams are you arriving just on time to make come true?

Let me know in the comments so I can cheer you on.

Leave a comment

The greatest thing about being forty-three and heading back into filmmaking is I’m arriving with both leverage and confidence.

And a list of things I would have given up back then, but refuse to do so now.

• I refuse to silence my queer voice.

• I refuse to make my characters all be super thin.

• I refuse to leave my friends and family behind.

• I refuse to move to L.A. just because everyone tells me to.

• I refuse to be scared of the process.

• I refuse to let the cost keep me from doing it — because technology has changed and I know I can find a way.

• I refuse to feel too old to start again.

• I refuse to believe I wasn’t a filmmaker all along.

And I absolutely refuse to do this alone.

Which is why I’m bringing you along for every step of the process.

Want to Join in the Fun?

At a time when federal, state, and local governments are all defunding the arts, working together to make a movie is a radical act.

San Diego’s mayor just proposed a new budget that would radically and drastically cut all funding to the arts and culture.

My goal is not just to make a film, but to have a place for creatives to build community and make art together – regardless of the opinion of politicians.

A place where we honor collaboration over competition and celebrate the diversity of humans and talent in San Diego and beyond.

There are four ways you can be a part of this film:

1. Cast

2. Crew

3. Cheerleader

4. Investors

More on each below.

Star in the Film 🎭

Calling all experienced and aspiring actors: we need your talent!

Here are the four main roles I’m casting:

• Brooklyn — masc lesbian/enby queer, stylish, appears to be all smooth and full of swag, really heartbroken

• Sunshine — femme lesbian/enby queer, staunch vegan, uses her morals as a wall against connection

• Doug — kind but clueless straight man trying so hard to be a woke feminist

• Genevieve — colorful coffee shop worker who wishes she could just find a nice guy and settle down

Plus, we will need about 4–6 background actors.

Want to act in the film?

1. First: Fill out this form to get all the updates.

2. Second: Check out the casting call information and audition here!

Join the Crew 🎬

More of a behind-the-camera type? Love logistics and the technicalities of film? We’d love to have you on our crew.

Here are the skills we need and support team we’d love to help make this happen:

Pre-Production & Production:

• Director of Photography – this will be my friend Emily Deady!

• Assistant Director

• Assistant Producer

Production:

• Lighting tech

• Sound tech

• Makeup and hair

• Props and costumes

• Script supervisor

• Production assistants

• BTS/social photographer

• Catering

Post-production:

• Editor and color tech

• Sound tech

• Composer/musician

Want to be a part of the crew? Fill out this form to get all the updates.

Be a Cheerleader 📣

Making a film is a long process and taking on this endeavor is both scary and exciting all at once. That’s where you come in.

Having a team of people to cheer me on, spread the word, and eventually watch the film when it’s done will help me keep going when things feel overwhelming.

As a cheerleader, you get access to behind-the-scenes posts, insider’s look at production, and that warm fuzzy feeling of knowing you’re helping get queer stories out in the world.

Want to cheer us on and help spread the word? Fill out this form to get all the updates.

Become an Investor 💸

If you’re a financier who wants to support LGBTQ storytelling and get producer credit, reply to this email and let’s talk.

A crowdfunding campaign is coming as well, with really great perks planned. Fill out this form to get all the updates.

Benefits of Joining Us in Making a Movie:

• You get to help make a movie! That’s pretty cool.

• You’ll get clips for your reel and resume.

• Pay will depend on fundraising, but we strive to meet union minimums.

• All cast, crew, and financiers get credit in the film and on IMDB.

• The film will be pitched to festivals and streaming services.

• It will be creative and fun!

The world is on fire, and creativity is the balm.

Whether you want to be part of the cast or crew, invest in the film, or just watch it all unfold in real time — there’s a place for you on this project.

If you want in, fill out this form.

I’ll also be documenting the whole process here on Substack, so if you aren’t a subscriber yet, be sure to do that now.

Subscribe now

I cannot wait to make a movie with you!

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and art,

Lauren

P.S. Know someone who has always wanted to be in the movies? Got a friend in San Diego who would be a great member of our creative team? Have a following on social media who might want in? Share this post!

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I dream of winning an Oscar surrounded by people I love, and I’m pretty sure stickers are the key to making it happen.

Why stickers?

I’m glad you asked.

The Story Behind the Stickers

I wasn’t always a fan of stickers. I used to think they were a waste of resources.

And then my brother died.

A lot of my stories start that way. I wish more of them started with “and then my book became a massive success and I turned it into a movie that audiences loved, and I never had to worry about money again” — I like that one a lot better.

But unfortunately, so much of my creative life transformation started with death.

In March 2011, I was in my last semester of law school, studying for finals, serving on the board of multiple student organizations, volunteering in my community, speaking at major conferences, dating a new person, writing a weekly column for a national magazine, running my Queerie Bradshaw blog, and actively querying agents for my book.

Then, all hell broke loose.

• In April, my sister almost died giving birth to her second child.

• In May, right before finals, my brother was diagnosed with a very scary type of cancer.

• In June, on the way to my law school graduation ceremony, my grandmother had a stroke, and I spent the next ten days with her in the hospital as she passed away.

And that was just the beginning.

While my fellow graduates took the bar, I helped distract my sister’s kids as we waited in the hospital for my brother to come out of yet another surgery.

As my friends started new jobs, I started driving my brother to chemotherapy appointments.

They learned how to file a motion, I learned how to help clean a tracheotomy.

They got shiny new paychecks, and I got PTSD.

I’d gone from someone who identified as a high achiever to someone who was proud of herself if she took a shower that day.

Then, one of my best friends sent me some gold star stickers.

It was about a month after my brother died and I was barely functioning.

Every time I did something that required any sort of energy or responsibility, she told me to give myself a sticker.

It took me back to being a kid, working harder in class to get that gold star, reading more so I could win that personal pan pizza.

Each sticker was a little dopamine hit of happiness and joy.

Clean the dishes, get a sticker.

Go to therapy, get a sticker.

Send my manuscript out to five agents, get five stickers!

These weren’t just little pieces of paper, they were how I pieced my life back together.

And because of that, I became a fan of stickers.

Flash Forward a Decade and Once Again I Needed Stickers to Save Me

Like all of us, COVID caused a massive pivot in my life.

I went from being the right-hand creative content producer for celebrity speaker Tony Robbins, traveling around the world, running high-intensity events, and meeting the most interesting and influential humans … to stuck in a house with my sister, niblings, and two dogs.

I love my family dearly, but I much prefer being the fun aunt, not a full-time parent. I desperately needed a place of my own to be able to run my business and write my books without constant distractions.

As I was looking for a place to rent, I mindlessly scrolled Zillow — who didn’t during quarantine? — and stopped in my tracks when I saw a condo for sale in my favorite part of San Diego.

I remember as a kid thinking: if I ever live on that street, I’ll know I’ve made it.

My parents helped me with the down payment — I’m always transparent about that — but I got the place.

And then suddenly, unexpectedly, I had a mortgage to pay.

I needed more clients ASAP – which meant I had to get over my fear of putting myself out there.

So I thought back to the gold stars and set myself a challenge:

Over the next ten days, I am going to put myself out there 88 times — or hit $10,000 in the bank, whichever comes first.

To make the fear of rejection feel less overwhelming, I created a colorful sticker chart with built in rewards to track the process.

5 days and 32 asks later, I had:

• Over $16,000 in the bank, AND

• $60,000 more coming in over the next few months through payment plans.

I was absolutely shocked.

A one-page sticker chart had done for me what sales funnels and fancy marketing tricks could not.

This process had gained me clients and leveled up my business in a way that completely changed my finances.

But more importantly, it had helped me feel confident and comfortable talking about my creative projects with others and asking them if they wanted to join in the fun.

I started reflecting on my life and wondering:

Where else is my fear of rejection holding me back?

So, I experimented in other areas of my life, and two core findings stood out:

• My fear of rejection went down when I built the whole process around asking for what I want in life, and making the ask the win, not the outcome.

• Most of the time, I hit my goal about 20-30 asks in. Plus, I could make 1-2 asks a day over a month’s time and not get overwhelmed.

With that in mind, and my love of palindromes and the number 3, I decided to make 33 asks a month my new life goal.

And with that, 33 Asks® was born.

Since its inception in 2021, I’ve used 33 Asks® to:

• Generate over $475,000 in my business.

• Get a literary agent and a book deal.

• Start dating again.

• Restart my filmmaking career.

• Make friends in Mexico.

• Pack my Because Fat Girl book launch events and build a fan base that helped it get into airports and bookstores across the USA and read around the world.

• Find queer friends to go dancing with me.

I was even featured on Good Morning America talking about the process!

And today, I’m teaching you 33 Asks®!

33 Asks® is a way to build confidence, recover from rejection, and ask for what you want in life with joy using a simple one-page sticker-chart system that makes the process creative and fun.

I share it with you because it has truly changed my life and I want you to be able to use this process in your life as well.

You can learn the full process at 33Asks.com, but here’s the basic idea:

1. Start with why – what’s the point of this project for you?

• Humans are much more likely to do finish doing something if we have a defined purpose for why

• Your why can be fun (ex: I want to add more joy to my life), practical (I need $3500 a month more now to pay my mortgage), or a combination (I want to make a movie and need cast, crew, and financiers to do that).

2. Clearly define a singular goal that’s a reach, but not impossible.

• Clarity helps your brain know exactly where to put its energy.

• Making it a singular goal that’s a stretch for you but not impossible gives you focus and prevents overwhelm.

• Examples:

  • Instead of “I want to find a life partner” (that could be your why), try “I want to go on dates with people who are aligned with my bigger life goals.”

  • Instead of “I want to win an Oscar” (again, a good why), try “I want to find a stellar local actor for the lead in my short film”

  • Instead of “I want to be a millionaire with complete financial freedom” (you guessed it, also a why), try “I want to bring in $5,000 that I can put into my retirement account”

3. Build in rewards – this one is the most important step!

• When people ask me why 33 Asks® is so successful, I say it’s the built in rewards. This teaches our brains that putting ourselves out there and facing rejection is something we will benefit from, regardless of the outcome.

• You need at least one reward for making all 33 asks, but you can also create another reward for hitting your goal, if you want.

  • This is important: you MUST have a reward for making your asks. The asks matter more than the goal. More on that below.

• The rewards can be anything as long as it brings you joy and will motivate you. Here are some I’ve done:

  • A pair of rainbow Gucci shoes because they were bougie and gay just like me.

  • Month-long trip to Europe.

  • My favorite gluten-free pizza in town.

  • A new jumpsuit from a company I love.

  • A movie night on my sister’s sofa with popcorn and extra butter.

  • Game night with friends.

  • “Shopping spree” at the local library where I allow myself to check out as many things as I want, even if I know I’ll never get through it all.

• Notice most of those cost little to no money.

  • The key to a reward is joy, not price.

  • I was just as motivated by the gluten-free pizza as I was the trip to Europe.

  • Sometimes the bigger prizes feel overwhelming (like the Europe trip that I never took…) so don’t be afraid to pick something small but meaningful.

4. Make the ask the win!

• This is the genius of 33 Asks®. It rewards your brain for making the ask itself. It allows you to be attached to asking for what you want in life, not the outcome.

• Making the ask itself the win also keeps you from feeling like a pushy used car salesperson, since you’re rewarded simply for asking.

• This is the scary part, but you can do it! And if you want tips for how, check out 33Asks.com.

5. Make it creative and have fun – this is where the stickers come in!

• What separates a to-do list from a vision board? Color! Stickers! Images! And most of all, intention.

• Make the process of creating your one-page sticker chart a joyful one. Let it be a craft project. Use your creative imagination. Have fun!

• This not only taps into the crafter within us all, it also helps make it so your 33 Asks® sticker chart is something you want to actually look at and enjoy.

With all of that done – on a single piece of paper so you don’t feel overwhelmed! – you can now go out and ask 33 people to be a part of making your goal happen.

The point of 33 Asks® is to overcome a fear of rejection and ask for what you want in life.

It can be easy to make this process about hitting career goals, making money, or even getting laid.

But it’s about none of that.

33 Asks® is about feeling capable and confident in asking for what you want in life.

It’s about building resilience in a world full of rejection.

It’s about persevering so you can live a boldly creative life full of joy.

And it’s about finding a fun way to make your life dreams come true – whatever they are.

That’s why I do 33 Asks® for myself and teach it to others.

That’s why I’m sharing it here with you today, so you can learn it too.

The world is on fire, but creativity is the balm. Asking for what we want is how we feel empowered to make change.

Yes, I’d love you to take the full class at 33Asks.com, but more than that, I want you to go out there and ask for what you want in life and make your creative dreams come true.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love and stickers,

Lauren

P.S. Now, I have an ask of you. If you enjoyed this post and found it helpful, can you please share it with a friend or on your social media? It’s a free and easy way to spread the love.

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This weekend, I struggled to practice what I preach.

I was supposed to send my Sunday letter to you yesterday, but I couldn’t get myself to finish it. I was too distracted by a pile of hate that was being dumped into the comments of an Instagram reel of mine.

For Lesbian Visibility Week, I posted a video talking about the difference between “lesbian” and “queer” — specifically how I identify as both, why queer feels more expansive to me, and how my novel Because Fat Girl explores what happens when a lesbian-identified character falls for a cis man, something a few people in my own life have navigated.

To me, it was a nuanced, personal conversation about identity, community, and why I love the word queer even as I claim lesbian with pride. Apparently, not everyone agreed.

Being told I am “not lesbian enough” is something I’ve dealt with since I came out at twelve. I’ve got 30+ years of receipts, I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.

Mostly, I ignored the haters.

But some comments still stung — especially ones saying my inclusive definition of lesbian and my novel Because Fat Girl give men permission to assault lesbians.

The general idea is that by saying I’m a lesbian who occasionally finds a man – specifically Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson – attractive, I am playing into the idea that all lesbians just haven’t found the right man. And therefore, men could “change” them through coercion or force.

It’s something editors of my book worried about as well – and it’s total bullshit.

The only person at fault in that scenario is the man.

But we are so horrible at holding men accountable for their actions – especially when it comes to assault – that we instead blame someone like me, who talks about my lesbian identity with nuance.

It’s horrifically insulting and highly problematic.

I wanted to fight back.

I even recorded an angry response video!

Then I looked at my North Star vision board, my 3-Pillar Legacy, my primary question – all the things that make up my Creative Life Blueprint. All the things that matter to me in life.

Clapping back at strangers on the internet suddenly didn’t feel important anymore.

So I walked away.

I went to the San Diego Book Crawl and felt grounded in my literary community.

I spent a rainy day reading Behooved, a book with a character who also can’t digest gluten!, and felt less alone.

I danced along the shore with a friend from out of town and felt loved.

I did the work to define what matters to me and then followed the path I’d set out for the life I want to live.

I practiced what I teach in Creative Life Blueprint (you can get the full process I use here).

And I’m really proud of myself for that.

Let this be a reminder for all of us to get out of the comments and into a good book.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love,

Lauren

P.S. Want to help cheer me up after all of that hate? Leave a 5-star review for Because Fat Girl on Amazon or Goodreads today. It really helps counteract the haters, boost my visibility, and help me get the next books out.

Books I found at the Book Crawl that I’m excited to read:

• Behooved by M. Stevenson – Magic, political treason, and gluten intolerance – I’m in!

• What Is Queer Food? by John Birdsall – A look at the history of queer culture through how we feed ourselves and others – I’m intrigued!

• Stages and Phases two poetry books by Tramaine Suubi – Tramaine said she decided to be her own Black queer archive and I LOVED that, so I bought all her books.

• Death Valley Blooms by S. M. Mack – I sat next to Smack during our book signings at UCSD and loved the premise of this fantasy novella set in the desert where I grew up.

When I took myself through my Creative Life Blueprint ritual (you can read all about it and take yourself through it for free here) one question emerged that has become my North Star:

Will this help me win an Oscar surrounded by people I love?

The layers of that question, I talk about here.

It’s more nuanced than you’d think.

It’s not just about the golden statue – although I’d love that! – but about the person I have to become, the life I have to embrace, and the art I have to make to win an Oscar and walk the red carpet with people I love.

I’ve been pretty great in the past with the whole chasing the dream against all odds thing. It took me twenty years, but I saw my book in airports across the nation. I know how to hustle and work hard in my career.

But I haven’t been great at letting romance, love, and intimacy into my life while doing it.

So, I’ve decided to put myself out there.

And it’s scary! But it’s less scary with you here along for the ride.

In this week’s Come With Me video, I decompress after a night of queer speed dating and share the realization that stopped me mid-conversation with a stranger:

I’ve been trying to get to the New York Times bestseller list before I’ve even written the first chapter.

I tell my story coaching clients this all the time: you can’t jump to the ending.

You have to write the book before you can make it a bestseller.

And I realized I was doing this in my dating life.

If someone wasn’t a marriage match from the start, I wouldn’t give them a chance. Which was hilarious because until recently, I wasn’t even interested in marriage.

What I called “high standards” was often walls put up to protect me from having to be intimate and vulnerable with people.

So I’m changing my question.

Instead of is this my person?

I’m asking: would I want to go sit down for an hour over tea with this person and have a conversation?

That one small shift changed everything about how speed dating felt.

And how did the event go?

Well you’ll have to watch the full video to find out!

I hope it inspires you to go out there, do something vulnerable, and take it one step at a time.

With love and creativity,

Lauren

P.S. Did you know I used to run a popular queer sex and relationships blog called Queerie Bradshaw? I revised it last summer here on Substack and will be posting more as I get back out there again.

If you want those posts, great! You don’t have to do anything.

But if you prefer to only hear about writing and creativity (or you’re my mom…), you can scroll down in your emails, click “unsubscribe” and you’ll be taken to a page that will let you opt-out of Queerie Bradshaw posts.

Because consent is sexy, even in emails.

Read more

Have you ever had a solid, multi-point plan for achieving your dreams, only to have fate look you dead in the eyes and laugh?

Sometimes, it’s a horrible twist – like when my brother was diagnosed with cancer during my last month of law school, then my grandmother had a stroke at my law school graduation, both of which derailed my plans to take the bar and become a lawyer.

Other times, it’s a happy twist – like when my cousin texted me from the airport saying he saw my book there and suddenly I was flooded with pics of travelers picking up my book, something I never thought possible for a debut novel.

I’m a dreamer and a doer, but looking back at my life, the most important and profound moments were never planned.

They were times when Fate, God, Life, the Universe, whatever you want to call it said “PSYCH” and pushed me off course.

They were moments of deep personal introspection that were so lonely and painful I never would have done them without being pushed.

They were moments of massive leaps forward I could never have imagined for myself.

I’m never going to be the person to tell you platitudes like “you’re so brave” or “God only gives his toughest tasks to his strongest warriors,” because screw that emotional bypassing bullshit.

But I will tell you this: 

People who have danced through the dark and come out the other side singing are magical humans.

There’s something witchy about a woman who has seen some shit and lived to tell the tale.

There’s something supernatural about someone who faces overwhelming oppression and chooses joy.

There is something phenomenal about building a strong foundation out of the ashes.

I know, because the life I live right now – one where I get to be a full-time creative who travels the world, is emotionally regulated, and has an amazingly supportive community in her life – was built from rock bottom, brick by brick.

If you are in an unplanned life pivot right now, here are three questions to ask yourself:

1. Who and what am I grateful for in my life?

2. Who and what do I love in my life?

3. Where and when can I add more joy, decadence and whimsy to my life?

Those three questions seem simple, but they’ll open up a world of truth within you. They’ll show you what’s missing and what you already have. They’ll help you decide what comes next and how you want it to feel.

Once you have the answers to those questions, you’ll be ready to start creating your own Creative Life Blueprint – the path you’ll take forward to build a life centered around that gratitude, love, and joy you just defined.

For that, you’ll need this post where I outline the whole process:

Or, if you want more handholding and group camaraderie, you can join me April 21 - June 3 for the Creative Life Blueprint group coaching program.

I’m offering it one time only to six people.

Reply if you want in.

Whatever path you choose, I hope you’re able to find the magic in the unplanned moments — the ones that punch you in the gut, the ones that surprise you with joy, and every one in between.

Because the world needs your story now more than ever.

With love and resilience,

Lauren

P.S. My Creative Life Blueprint coaching program starts April 21. I’m not offering this again and I only have one spot left, so reply now if you want it. I’d love to have you in.

I just got out of the shower.

I’m wearing my book nerd shirt.

I’m heading to book club soon – in fact, I am already late.

But I had to record this before I lost my nerve.

Here you have it, the first official announcement:

I am making a short film.

And I’m sharing the budget with you today.

Which is really scary! Not because it’s high (although it’s not cheap…) but because this means it’s all real.

I haven’t made an actual film since film school. As you can see in this video, I’m so nervous I’m shaking.

But I did my two-year life reset at the end of 2025.

I made my North Star question and declared it publicly:

Will this get me closer to winning an Oscar surrounded by people I love?

I am following my own Creative Life Blueprint and practicing what I preach.

But just because I’m doing the damn thing, doesn’t mean I’m not scared $#@!less!

It is so scary to no longer wonder if I can do it, and take the leap of faith to find out.

It’s so scary to enter back into an industry that has historically been unsafe for people like me – to go for a job I’d assumed I hadn’t been brave enough to pursue.

In this video I walk you through everything that goes into a micro-budget short film — from the DP and sound tech to the script supervisor I didn’t even know I needed, to festival submission fees, to feeding people because hangry crew members are nobody’s friend.

I don’t have the money to make this film right now. I don’t have the crew, or the cast, or the gear. I don’t remember most of what I learned in film school.

But I have my North Star. I have my Creative Life Blueprint.

And every time I get scared I come back to the same reminder: I never thought I’d have a book in airports across the country either.

If I can get Because Fat Girl out in the world after years of rejection, I can make a movie.

And in the end, I’d rather fail trying to do something I love than die never having tried.

If you want to define your own North Star, I’ve got two ways to help you:

1. I’ve outlined the full thing for free in this Substack post.

2. I’m offering a one-time only, small group coaching program to walk you through the process. It’s seven weeks long, and we start April 21. Interested? Reply to this message and I’ll send you the details.

I’m sharing both my Creative Life Blueprint process and behind-the-scenes of this movie with you to hopefully go out there, be brave, and do the boldly creative thing you dream of in your life.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With nervous excitement,

Lauren

P.S. As promised, here’s a screenshot of the general budget I’m working with. I don’t have the costs in, because … well it felt too scary to share just yet! But this gives you a general idea:

What makes somebody a creative?

When I first met Laura Eigel six years ago, she told me she was not a writer.

She was interested in joining my Write Your Friggin Book Already® program, but she was not a writer. She’d made books for friends as a kid and kept journals her whole life, but she was not a writer.

Two books out in the world now, and I think she is finally calling herself a writer.

Recently, my friend Max decided to join my Creative Life Blueprint coaching program (we start April 21 - want to join us?! Reply and I’ll send you the deets!).

When we first talked about it, he said, “I want to join, but I’m not really a creative.”

Max has fabulous fashion with a unique take on masc queer style. He’s a content creator that’s gone viral multiple times. He’s built a successful business and whittles wood for fun.

But he didn’t see himself as a creative.

What is it about the title “creative” that makes us so hesitant to claim ourselves as one?

It is not like the creativity is only accessible to an elite few. You can be a writer with a pen and paper. You can be an artist with things that you find in your home. Everybody is a content creator these days on the internet.

So why do we have this idea that only certain people get to call themselves creatives?

Elizabeth Gilbert has a famous Ted Talk on the concept of the genius that tries to answer this. It’s worth watching the whole thing but the general idea is that during the Renaissance we went from:

Anyone could be greeted by creative genius or could commune with the muses anytime.

to

One person is deemed a genius and all of us work to uphold that person’s genius.

It also not-so-coincidentally came around the time that the de Medici family was trying to hyper-monetize art and use capitalism and Catholicism to rule the world.

We talk about this time period as a beautiful period of creativity and it was also a time of massive racism, sexism, and depression. They glorified and idolized certain men like Raphael, Michelangelo, Donatello – and no those aren’t just Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles – while the laborers who made the art were treated as disposable.

Sound familiar?

We still live in the oppressive system the de Medici family made.

Today I want to encourage you to break free from it.

Right now, right here, I want you to embrace the term “creative” for yourself.

If you’re fighting with me on this, think about the last time you made a meal but sprinkled a little extra on top for flourish.

Or what about a time you added a pop of color to an outfit, or went all black as an expressive choice?

Do you have a kid in your life? Whether you birthed them or not, you’re helping to mold and shape their existence.

Picked out a new bedspread? That’s a creative choice.

Almost everything in our life requires creativity.

To be human is to create. And to create is to tap into your humanity.

And damn if we can’t all use more humanity right now in the world.

Being a creative has saved my life.

As a queer, fat, neurodiverse farmer’s daughter growing up in a small, conservative town, I had no positive images of people like me thriving in life.

Joy was my armor and creativity was my path out.

There wasn’t a reality around me where a girl like me got to grow up to be a world-traveling, joyful, successful author, filmmaker, and business owner. I had to create that vision for myself.

All the positive changes in the world – all the art, all the activism, all the technology, everything – only exist because someone was bold enough to be a creative.

Right now, we desperately need more creative energy. Not just for our own lives, but for the good of us all.

We need to make art.

We need to tell our stories.

We need to design positive futures.

I don’t have all of the answers, but I do have this six-step ritual that I’ve used time and again to reset my life to be a more boldly creative one.

And I’m sharing it with you in two ways:

1. I’ve outlined the full thing for free in this Substack post.

2. I’m offering a one-time only, small group coaching program to walk you through the process. It’s seven weeks long, and we start April 21. Interested? Reply to this message and I’ll send you the details.

I’m offering both of these options – the free self-study and the paid support – because I truly believe in the power of creativity to get us out of this overwhelmingly challenging time the world is living in right now.

I want to share the resources and tools I have with you, so you can go off and share them with others, so together we can create a more joyful, empathetic, and empowered world.

If my Creative Life Blueprint coaching program sounds intriguing to you, reply and I’ll help you decide if it’s the right fit.

At the very least, I hope this post inspired you to take a little step – just one little step is all you have to do! – towards embracing a boldly creative life for yourself.

Because the world needs our stories now more than ever.

With love,

Lauren

P.S. Comment below and let me know how you’re adding creativity to your life right now. We could all use some inspiration. <3

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