This Is My Growth Accountability Post

Thus far, my armor against the warp of social media—and my sense of dissonance around the demands of my career vs. the desire to preserve my own life offline—has been straightforwardness and transparency without oversharing or invasion. In most things, I am probably too disarmingly straightforward with people. The "mysterious" comment I frequently get is more so about me being quiet and/or having a wildly associative brain that's tricky to dissect with full clarity (for me too.)

I do think that plenty of people read and follow Words Like Silver precisely for my analysis of what works and what doesn't as I try to balance my love of creativity and reading and writing, the edge and hunger of traditional publishing, scrabbling together a scrappy career, and trying to maintain my independence and individuality in resistance to the horrors of algorithms drowning out originality (lol.)

So this is me laying out my current hurdle and goal for y'all. I think that publicizing it will allow the embarrassment of not trying out of cowardice to outweigh the embarrassment of experimenting visibly and dealing with whatever internal solace the process chips away at.

Essentially: I currently feel pretty healthy about how I post and the level at which I care about being online. I love feeling polished and aesthetic, and sharing passions and curiosities, etc,. I'm a visual gal anyway and love conversations with strangers who stumble across books I love. I work in creative strategy and relish marketing challenges. It's easier with the buffer of working on behalf of someone else, or with the blog as a shield.

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But the next step for me, business and growth-wise, unilaterally points to trying to position myself as more of an influencer. I need to pour more of myself into concentrated platform growth.

My 'Influencer' Hangups and Why They're Irrational

Credit / Bill Watterson, Calvin & Hobbes.

Part of my hesitation around posting more—or in a strategy more likely to boost my platform significantly—is mostly around this: I don't want to care more than I already do. I do think relying on social media more makes people less secure, but that it's not a moral failing or a strike against you for it to affect you; it's the literal engineering that makes people dependent on it.

Within reason, I don’t think I care what others think about me. I’m confident and specific, and everything I do feels authentic to my so-called higher purpose. It's not how I am now that I worry about; I can enact safeguards. It's that the closer you tie your income and self-image to a social media engine that relies on external praise or approval, the more likely that is to bleed into you. And my work is so tied up in who I am that I can't necessarily detach in the way I would if running a devoted account in some topic other than books.

This is thinking way, way far ahead (as if I had a few hundred thousand followers), but that tends to be my hangup: that I might care more. But it's silly to let that stop me when I'm nowhere close. Still, social media is all about that dopamine engine, and it's also naïve to ignore that you are largely hijacking that system overall. Again, probably a case of me knowing and anticipating too much too soon.

There's also a rather terrifying study in Superbloom pointing out that the more you know about someone from the Internet, the less likely you are to like them; that precise level of engagement triggers dissimilarity cascades without the softening counterbalance that physical proximity provides.

I suppose this hurdle of mine mirrors my stiff need for independence chafing up against my desire to connect; I most often see this in myself within relationships and friendships, but I do see it in job commitments and other areas too. My gut instinct recoil stems from the same values. I resist any structure that involves me relying on or becoming needy to others—in this case, my audience—and it's better for me to just run a platform that's all me and entirely under my own control. I do not like allowing others to throw me off balance.

But! Here's why I'm at a tipping point and need to get the hell over myself.

Right now, here’s how I divvy up my workday and jobs.

Right now, I have three prongs of my work life I care about. I have:

• Journalist — traditional freelance journalism in writing for established pubs & magazines. This pays my bills, I love it, I have goals within it, and I feel good at it. I would love to land more in travel and entertainment, but end up writing mostly commerce because I mostly take assignments rather than pitching to save myself time for book writing.
• Blogger/Founder — I love writing on my blog and working on my own projects, and most days I get up in the morning and desperately want to write a post.
• Author — Of course, the long-game goal has been writing and selling my novels, which can take years. Publishing is a multi-year long-game, and the people who succeed in it are those who can balance the lifetime pursuit with daily needs and survival. (Ex: the timing from a book sale to publication is roughly two years, and that's without accounting for the time it takes to write the books at all.)

I'd say each dream is similar in proportion, but the author bit has been the lifelong dream. I never see myself letting go of one entirely, but the proportions may shift throughout my life.

And here are some goals in each:

• Journalist — successful travel writer reviewing international hotels and locations for publications like T+L, WSJ, AFAR, etc,. Always on a plane. I'd also love to write more entertainment.
• Blogger/Founder — a devoted following and editorial control over my interests in books, arts, style, travel, etc,. (Most recently: I’d love to get the same opportunities I get through journalism pitched specifically to Words Like Silver, and to be more of a source/expert in my own lane.)
• Author — need I say more? Eventually: film adaptation, bestseller status, readers bursting into tears over my work, National Book Award if I'm being greedy, blank check to write whatever I want because my team trusts me.

A lot of this is basically rooted in that I want to steadily be able to write and work on whatever I want. My content and angle, the ability to dive into various rabbit holes and curiosities, respect. My dad says that most people who want to be rich and famous really just mean they want to be rich, and my sentiment feels similar.

Not meaning that I’m gunning to be fabulously wealthy (that’d be nice) but more so that money is time and I want control over my time and attention to do what I love most: read, write, travel.

“Some job and career advice I've always loved has been: Find a way to get paid for what you would do already for free.”

I'd like to earn and be established enough that I can disappear when I want or maintain a low profile personally without losing my authority, opportunities, book deals, etc,. The whole point is giving yourself choice, or building towards long game autonomy even by sacrificing some in the short run.

Now, I'm actually in a lucky position in that each of these points becoming more successful only boosts the other points of the triangle. I’ve made some good strides in my career in each, and being multi-pronged helps me a lot. And I often forget how much I've done in each just because it soon becomes normal and thus expected from myself.

My travel journalism opportunities have extended my network within traditional media, which is a small town, and each trip inspires my novel writing and sense of place too. The bigger my blog following, the more likely I am to get journalism opportunities. The more journalism opportunities, the more likely my book can take off. If my book takes off, I can only pitch the stories I want to, and get more readers following my other work. Each goal feeds the other.

The tricky part, of course, is that developing talent in each of these requires a lot of dogged sacrifice and personal faith. I just invested many years and dollars into writing my book and pursuing traditional publication. Now, it's probably time to invest in the middle sector: growing my platform. I'm a long game person, and this is the next step.

I just get so annoying to myself about it. But perhaps the only thing more annoying than me having to "influencer boot camp" myself is me avoiding having to "influencer boot camp" myself.

Expansion is the key to making all my work more self-sustaining.

For the last few years after graduation, I've been somewhat drowning financially. I'm a responsible gal, and have my head above water, but the nature of my work requires constant production or else I fall behind. Commerce journalism especially has a reputation for "burn and churn," for both articles and those who write them.

I don’t spend a lot, but I haven’t earned all that much either because I devoted so many thousands of unpaid hours to writing my book. If I sank into the red, I'd have to play catch up. Plus, freelance income is inconsistent, so I might have a fantastic month and then a light one, but of course, the light ones give me room to work ahead on long-game personal projects with payoff around the corner.

Last year, I had a small crisis in November after getting assigned yet another book revision during my busiest earnings season of the year (Q4 is huge for freelance journalism within commerce, which is what I'm most often commissioned for.)

To get it done at that point, I had to turn down work assignments which usually funded an entire season, but I knew putting off MOUNTAIN SOUNDS would only compound the difficulty of keeping it all balanced. My work output was already slowing, and everything was also much, much harder.

Going forward, I don't want to forever be in a situation where my stability relies on me firing on all cylinders of excellence within all three spheres, because most jobs are not that way. You can have a reasonable period of stepping back without losing everything you need. Even a week of getting sick—or God forbid, a family emergency—would screw me over, and that risk isn't sustainable in the long-term.

I love my work. I'm in a great situation in terms of foundation, and I'm lucky in the sense that a loyal alumni network, the work I've done already, etc,. mean that I'm confident I can pivot to a boring yet high-paying job if need be. Family-wise, my parents would welcome me if I moved back home for a year to save up—which my twin sister did for grad school tuition—but I hope not to ever have to. Within journalism, my blog, and my book, I’ve been working hard and been successful and lucky and am headed in the right direction.

I want very badly to continue investing in myself, so I need it all to speed up some, if possible so I can reach critical mass. The best way to describe what I do and the attitude I have towards it is that of a one-person startup that requires a constant grind.

So now, my goal is to shift most of my unpaid projects that embody the passions I have into paid projects.

I will never stop working as hard as I do now. Unfortunately, I have grit and (hopefully) the talent to stick it out and believe that will work, and the goalposts will move. It's not that I'm worried about being successful. It's that I'm worried about being successful and having the freedom to ease up on the gas when I need to. I can work towards making the process ever-so-slightly easier on myself.

My goals are modest to start but feel wildly luxurious. I'd love a vacation. I've been promising myself a massage for actual years. I want to be able to autopilot a little more of what "works" so that I can buy some of my time back spent on bill-pay projects I don't care about, and to be more insulated from such fickle markets as media and art as each are consciously devalued. Long game in this too.

And the most logical way to build this out properly is to expand my platform.

I've been logical and unemotional about my career in many regards, so it makes no sense that I drop that standard when it comes to influencing and platform growth. I should be consistent and admit I'm being a wimp about it. It's no longer rational to avoid, and it almost gives more power to the machine to fight so hard against the current of algorithms just because I'm scared they will affect my in-real-life presence.

Here are some of my unhelpful hangups keeping me from building my platform effectively the way I know I can:

• ego and fear of embarrassing myself,
• a severe dislike of feeling unoriginal (and a feeling the algorithm rewards flat takes or trends over nuance and reality),
• algorithms like niches and I don't like feeling constrained to one interest, aesthetic, type, etc,. (fear of commitment coming in clutch),
• being uncomfortable demanding spotlight (usually a good thing, but in this case definitely not),
• lack of time,
• perfectionism and need for polish,
• how filming or photographing myself too much makes me not like how I look as much, which happens to everyone (but is definitely harmful—we are not meant to look at ourselves this frequently),
• a fear that someone will see my socials and assume that they know me entirely without talking to me in person—that they will feel they see "all" of me already without having a genuine relationship, etc.

The reality is that content creation is like any other job in that you'll have to occasionally post or work on things or compromise on aspects that feel "not like you." That's the responsibility of any career, and it will never be perfect. But because social media is so tied to how we identify, it feels more invasive to me to post anything that isn't 100% "me."

So veering into trends or audience insights or even marketing for me—versus my book or another project—feels automatically less authentic. It's sort of the same conversation I've had about the self-consciousness we have around kindness, being that considering anything on a deeper level whatsoever can sometimes automatically introduce an unhelpful and irrational sense of inauthenticity. (I've been reading about the tension between authenticity and performance all year, which is partly why I loved East of Eden by John Steinbeck so much.) Similarly, I was great about being (endearingly) persistent as a blogger child growing way back when because I didn't think beyond "oh, I have a book opinion—I will post it everywhere" and that traction is responsible for a lot of the opportunities I have now.

A few weeks ago, I was offered a full-time job I deeply considered (and almost took.) I planned my summer as if I'd say yes. In weighing pros and cons, I ultimately landed on the fact that there are aspects in any job to dislike or compromise on, and at least this path gave me the potential of eventually controlling nearly everything about what I write and do. It only helps me, whereas the other option might stall me too much by taking away my most valuable resource: my time.

In essence: I need to get the hell over myself and just post, especially myself. It helps.

Hiding my face is the compromise.

I need to not care if I’m bad at producing at the volume the others do. I need to admit that I do care—but hope that my existing cynicism means I can keep it from bleeding into my self-image or relationships over time. I need to accept that some people will assume they’re seeing all there is if I’m more visible online. Grieve my perceived mystique disappearing and move on. (I love being a mystery.)

I would like to sell a hell of a lot of books, and I'm going to. Which means 1:1 that I need more eyes on my platform.

There are no guarantees in book publishing, especially because your publisher is responsible for a lot of the methods that actually move the needle, but building a platform is one of the only tangible ways you can at least guess at your reach, hopefully connect with the right readers, and start building exponentially. It’s a bit of self-fulfilling prophecy, or a positive feedback loop.

I love my community right now—roughly 10K Instagram followers, and about 7K blog followers last I checked (with probably some overlap between the two.) While it's smaller, for sure, it's dense and tuned-in. Within that, it's a lot of readers and media editors and publishing professionals of ye olden days. Teachers and a fantastically influential camp and school network (especially in the South.) So I appreciate that my WLS following is exactly the demographic that can help me out in what I do in such a multiplier effect. My 10K feels entirely targeted and calibrated.

Plus, we have great conversations. So also: more of that would have plenty of benefits too. I’d probably meet some fabulous people. The reader comments I've gotten through WLS are so meaningful to me.

So now that’s established, call me out if I’m bitching myself out over this in six months.

I've talked about this repeatedly with my therapist, but I'm terrible at measuring how far I've come. [Redacted book process]? Okay, something I should have expected from myself. Therefore, neutral after executing.

“The silence that accepts merit as the most natural thing in the world is the highest applause. — Ralph Waldo Emerson.”

But I'm a better cook and a better dancer than I was since I've gotten back into those hobbies this spring. I'm way more muscular than I've ever been because I've been working hard physically—but now this is just how my body looks and I will perceive any softening or fluctuation as a backslide.

As soon as I level up, the previous level is unacceptable.

That's the hedonistic treadmill in action, baby. And while I'm happy—and a very actively grateful person overall—it means I'll always have a goal to gun for. But I should consider that six months ago, I never would have dreamed of recording and putting blog episodes on Spotify, but that I've gained a handful of readers that way (and it's now easy for me.)

Or that I've revitalized my blog's Instagram account and have been posting maybe once a week in a semi-cohesive way, whereas a year ago, I didn't have the bandwidth to get that up and running.

My blog design, which is a little over six months old, is gorgeous, and Words Like Silver is the best it's ever been. That was my biggest business expense of last year, and the best investment I've ever made aside from paying myself in time. In the last year, I've written over a hundred blog posts in addition to novel edits, paid journalism, consulting work, and more.

So maybe, six months from now, posting Reels or Substack Notes or whatever that consistently go viral will feel easy and non-invasive and neutral to me in the same way that I wouldn't have expected myself to be blogging so frequently or to be posting across other platforms so often, even as minimally as I'm doing now. I just need to solidify the habit and intention. A Camus quote from The Plague about opportunities for luck has been living in my head all year, and that's exactly this:

“Truthfully, his only task was to create opportunities for luck, which only stirred if it was provoked.”

My best and most toxic trait: if I put my mind to something, I will do it and not quit.

What's Next?

While I'm auditing and reflecting on my content, I have plenty of critique that I can address to make my presence even stronger.

For example: I can keep my posts shorter. I don’t necessarily need to write 5,000 words on each deep, recursive topic; instead, I could break that into a chunk of five posts that each feel more targeted to the reader. (Plus, y’all’s attention spans are shot.)

I love my long musings, but incorporating scraps—or building a rhythm of when to cut it off—will help in all this too because I can focus more on translating content across platforms. Bite-sized.

Next up, I'm going to analyze Words Like Silver and my online presence, and brainstorm some of what I can institute to make this all more effective. And, of course, I would welcome y'all's feedback whether you're a longtime reader or a new face.

Perfect time to encounter this Anthony Bourdain quote, also.