#5: of websites and writing
switching newsletter platforms, more about writing as a place I live in and work on
Hi creative friends,
I associate August with freedom and creative immersion. As a graduate student, August was the month I went to the library every day to write as much as possible, before September started and my time was occupied with the obligations of campus life. I’m no longer a student, and have not been for several years, but each August I still try to recapture its magic: my main summer plans over, fall not yet here, my mind free to roam. I hope these next couple weeks offer you similar magic.
Since my last note, I’ve
- switched newsletter platforms
- made a new website
- watched a lot of the Olympics—especially enjoyed kayak cross, a free-for-all obstacle course race
In the weeds of email newsletter providers
The styling of this note might look a little different, as I’ve switched email newsletter services from Substack to Buttondown. The main difference for you, dear reader, is that Buttondown doesn’t have a comments feature on the free tier. Instead of commenting, just reply to this email, and I’ll write back!
I switched because I’ve observed that Substack is trying to be more than simply a service that delivers newsletters and provides tools for writers to publish their work. The overall writer experience design encourages users to monetize their content in ways that I find intrusive.
I’m sure the Substack team made their design choices in the interest of supporting writers: their point of view is that writers are supported when they can get people to pay for their work. And whether this impact is good or bad on the whole is a separate question that requires unpacking—good for whom? bad by what metrics? I'll still be reading on Substack, but as a writer with no interest in monetizing these letters, I’d like to share using tools, and in spaces, that aren’t created and shaped by the idea of monetization.
Fun with websites and other writerly spaces
I wrote in my last message about a way that I was reframing my creative practice for myself, and specifically, my novel: as a place that I go to, versus a thing that I produce. I wrote about how I was cleaning up my Scrivener files, making Scrivener more enjoyable for me to live in.
I’ve been thinking about that more as I’ve been working on (and finally published) a new personal website for my writing. You can check it out here: www.catherineswanner.com
(Swanner is my grandmother's name—helps separate search engine results for my writing life vs. my work life. And also, it makes me feel good to use her name!)
Creating a website is like unpacking after a big move. Where do I want things to go? I accidentally broke something—how can I fix it? Can I put a banner here? Does this feel good? Do I like how it feels to be in this space?
Playing around in the site builder, breaking things and then trying to unbreak them, brought me back to ~2009, when I was in high school, making elaborate CSS templates to house the Harry Potter fanfiction I posted online. This is another side of thinking about space. You can have fun inside a space, like the fun I have when I write, when I’m discovering and creating and making messes in the sandbox of my Scrivener file. And you can also have fun working on the space and tending to it over time, the way I had fun organizing my Scrivener file, or building my website.
Fun opens itself up to other ways of reflecting on the creative practice, apart from “productivity”:
- When I was in the space, did I feel deeply connected to the work I was doing there, was I only half-present?
- Does this space make me feel calm, or jittery?
- Did I feel a sense of surprise, or revelation—that as I explored the sandbox of my art, I discovered new things?
- Or did I feel clarity, the clarity that comes when I tend to and shape my creative world?
And, then, unlike my writing files, this site is public, if not heavily advertised. So, then, what place do I create for others, through the writing and design? How do I want visitors to feel when they come by? Hopefully, like they’re sitting with me at my dining room table, drinking tea from a mug that fits perfectly in their hands.
If you have a minute, reply to this email and let me know your thoughts on these questions—about the kinds of emotions you hope to create for yourself, as you write, and in others, when you share.
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Wishing you lots of fun, clarity, surprise, and connection in all the artistic spaces you inhabit and create this month,
Catherine