V. H. King's Ink

New Year.  New Rules. 

Last year, I challenged myself to commit to my writing.  Seriously.  Put it out there consistently.  Give people a chance to read it.  Acknowledge the time and effort that goes into my art and my words.  Embrace the joy in the creative process—from world-building to story-telling to finding the perfect color combinations to scrubbing paint from my fingernails. 

This year, I’m leaning into that joy.  If 2020 taught me anything, it was to do what I love because I love it, not just to turn a profit.  I’ve always been intimidated by the idea of fame or having a huge following.  I know this absurd, because given a challenge, I tend to not only rise to it but surpass my own (and others’) expectations. 

Anyhow, that fear of mattering had a backwards way of tricking me into demanding that I take every opportunity possible to provide engaging content, to self-promote my work at every turn, to get my name out there and gain visibility.  I had to earn validation of my work, so I told myself.  But that was based on the idea that, if I earned that validation, then I would earn the right to matter.

Plot twist: I already matter.

My work, my joy, my art, my writing, my story—all of these, each of these, already matter.  There is nothing I could do (or forget to do) to make them matter any more or less.  And when I remember that, I find I’m far less demanding of myself.  I can take my work seriously while still embracing the joy and process and the journey I’m on.  So here’s what I’m telling myself this year:

• Write everything.
• Draw everything.
• Read everything. 

I tend to think too far ahead, wondering how I’m going to incorporate an idea into the bigger picture of my work. How will it connect?  What will the end product be?  What will I be able to do with this, once it’s done?  And those questions are good to consider, but sometimes overthinking them takes out the critical reason to do anything.  For the love.  For the joy.  Art for art’s sake, as some might say. 

So what if I don’t know (yet) what will happen with my doodles or sketches in the long run?  I already have an entire stash of art that I’m working on rolling out along with Glass Halos, Paper Crowns.  There’s still a worrisome voice that says: I know, but what next?  What if you run out of ideas?  What if this is the only project you finish?  Well.  That might happen, but I highly doubt it.  If it does, is that the worst thing ever?  No, it’s not.  And whether that happens or not—why should I let that fear keep me from creating? 

I have so often been told that my words are profound that I get caught up in delivering that standard.  I have to step back and remember that I can be goofy.  Silly.  I can sketch for fun.  I can write light-hearted drabbles with lovable characters.  I can experiment with short fiction that is weird and doesn’t make sense! 

This year, a lot of my attention will be devoted to my Patreon page and serializing Glass Halos, Paper Crowns.  I’m going to be busy with chapter edits, finalizing artwork, releasing merch in my store, and trying to reach a wider audience.  And along with all of that, I have also given myself this challenge: to spend time writing and drawing content that I might not immediately publish in a collection or make available for sale as a print or postcard. 

Write, draw, read—embrace the world of story. 

Embrace the journey. 

Enjoy.