Does the Pursuit of Money Kill Art?
I spent 6 years trying to build an online empire so I could get a mainstream book deal. These days, I'm wondering if there's something better to pursue instead. Plus, some journaling prompts for you.
Dear friend,
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.
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.
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!
