You Can’t Force Art (No Matter How Hard You Try)

 For as long as I can remember, I have considered myself an artist. Ever since I was little, I’ve enjoyed painting and drawing, and more recently I’ve gotten into digital art. I’m not really a musician, but I play piano and violin––not well, mind you––and I’ve tried my hand at composing music. As a child, I took ballet, and my mom is a figure skating coach, so for a while I was a figure skater, too. I still do these things from time to time, but most of all, I’m a writer. That’s my calling, that’s what I’m best at. And it’s the art form that brings me the most joy and fulfillment.

The trouble with “being an artist,” though, is that it’s extremely difficult to actually make money off your art. There’s a reason we have the term starving artist and not starving businessmen. I’m sure there are starving businessmen out there, but there haven’t been enough of them throughout history to have a whole term for it, just saying. Sure, there are the artists who make it big like George Lucas, Stephen King, Yayoi Kusama, Leonardo DiCaprio, or Taylor Swift. But most of us live our lives like Vincent Van Gogh––struggling with mental health, worried about money, and just wanting to paint. Or write. Or whatever art you love best.

PC: AZ Quotes

If you want to make it as an artist, you need a breakthrough. A masterpiece. Something that really generates a following. And then you need another one. And another one. And another one. Over and over again, if you want to keep that following, if you want to keep making money. OR you need to create something so incredible (for example: Star Wars) that it becomes a part of history and culture all on its own.

But most of us have full-time jobs, or multiple part-time jobs, or kids, or other tasks that drain us of our creativity before we even have time to sit down and focus on our art. Then there’s this pressure––from family, friends, society, and even that inner voice of yours that tells you your art is only valuable if you can make money off it.

We need to stop thinking about art this way. It isn’t healthy, and this mindset is completely at odds with the mental state we need to be in to actually create. Don’t get me wrong, I think it’s amazing if you can make money off your art. But the goal of creation should not be making money.

The fact is, you can’t force quality art.

Yes, there are people like James Patterson who find a pattern that works and use it over and over again to come out with a new book every month or so. I work at a library, and I literally see a book with his name on it on our new shelf at least once a month. Is this really art? This question is more philosophical, and it depends on how you define art, but my personal opinion is no. This formulaic mass production of content is entertainment, not actual art.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing inherently wrong with doing that, we just need to make sure we don’t lose our creative spark in the process.

I’m a writer. It would be really nice if I could make money off my writing. But I don’t write because I need money. I write because I love it. I write because it helps me deal with my chronic anxiety. My stories are places I can explore the depth of the human experience, and if other people enjoy it, that’s amazing. But if they don’t, it’s alright. I’m still just doing it for me.

PC: quotefancy

We should create because we have stories to tell. Images trapped in our brains that demand to be put on canvas. A sequence of motions that plays out every time we hear that one song. An unfinished melody that rings in our ears, and won’t leave us alone.

When I make art, I am transforming pieces of my soul into words. It isn’t something that can be turned into a pattern, it can’t be mass-produced and churned out whenever I need money. And regardless of whether my art is good or not, it’s unique, and it’s mine.

I guess my point is … make time for your art. Make time to be creative. And don’t base the value of your art on whether or not people will buy it. The value of art is in the process of creation. The value of your art lies in what it means to you.

I struggle with internalizing this on a weekly basis. But I wrote this to myself––and to my fellow starving artists––as a way to remember.

Weekend Review #3

Ahhh this weekend was crazy! Some of it was fun, but most of it was not.

On Friday, Han and I went to my parents' house for dinner to celebrate my dad getting his new job. That part was fun. I also was very happy to find out that my brother finally asked this girl he’s liked for a while to be his girlfriend! I’ve only met her once, and extremely briefly—I was in the middle of a Fortnite match, and I was trying not to die when she was leaving my parents’ house. I felt so bad!

Lottie was at a concert all night, but at some point she realized she'd lost her car keys, so I had to drive all the way out to her to deliver her spare car keys. I'm the oldest sibling, so of course I was grudgingly happy to do it, but I absolutely reserve the right to complain about it. Especially since I had to work Saturday morning.

Saturday was a bit crazy at the library. Our funding was cut recently, so we're down a person on Saturdays, and Saturday's are usually pretty busy. We managed, but it was a bit stressful! It also didn't help that I was exhausted from being up late Friday night.

On Sunday, Han and I went to Meijer when I was hungry, which was a huge mistake because I wanted to buy literally everything. We spent about two hours there, which was depressing because I really wanted to get writing done. Then I went back to my parents' house because we always do family dinner with them on Sunday evenings. Both my siblings live at home with them, so it's always nice to go and see everyone. 

Project Updates

Convergence

I didn't do any writing in Convergence this weekend, and I'm a little frustrated about that. There was a lot of other stuff going on, and not enough time. Currently, I have 393 words in my Second First Draft, which is absolutely pitiful. I think that's what I was at last week.

That means I didn't struggle with anything on Convergence this week.

Fan Fiction

I wrote 79 words in my fan fiction, but I also wrote 1,313 words in a short little fic that I posted for a challenge.

Goals This Week

Since I barely got any writing done last week, I'm going to try to make my goals very reasonable this week.

I'd like to write:

1. 2,000 words in Convergence that I actually keep
2. 1,500 words in my Fan Fic that I actually keep

And I'd like to read:

1. 2 chapters in Oathbringer by Brandon Sanderson

I think I'll be able to get more than two chapters in Oathbringer, but I'm being conservative in my goals this week.

Jasper Update

We had to take Jasper to the vet last week and we spent about $700 in medical bills. We have pet insurance for him, but we always have to pay first, and then the insurance reimburses us. He's 11 years old, he's got really bad arthritis, he's got Cushing's disease, and some degenerative spinal disease. His liver is too big, and his heart is too big––physically and metaphorically, which we already knew, he's the most loving dog in the world––and the vet put him on a ton of medication to see if it would help how often he's having accidents in the apartment, which didn't used to be a problem.

Still, he's all smiley and happy all the time, wiggling and wanting cuddles, gobbling down his food like crazy. Han accidentally dropped a frozen pizza roll on the ground, and Jasper basically inhaled it. He's a silly boy. I love him so much!

Quote of the Week

How was your weekend? What are your goals for this week?

TRAVEL JOURNAL: Bagels, Dumplings & Boba in New York City

Memorial Day Weekend (Saturday, Day 2 of 4) (Pt. 1)

* All names have been altered for privacy.

Over Memorial Day weekend, I went to NYC with my husband, my parents, my sister and her boyfriend. This post is a continuation of our adventures in NYC. To read about the first day of our adventures, click here → Day 1.

Saturday, May 24, 2025

If you want to get breakfast in NYC without having to wait forever in a line, you have to get up at a decent hour. So despite going to bed after 2 AM the night before, I dragged myself out of bed around 9 AM, which should be considered a Herculean task on a weekend. What can I say? I'm a night owl.

Han was up before me, as usual, so he was ready to go by the time I woke up. After I got dressed, Han and I went downstairs to meet my parents who were waiting in the hotel lobby. Lottie and Seth weren't awake, so we left them behind to face the consequences.

In NYC, if you snooze, you lose.

Dad led the way through the city streets. It was a little chilly for late May, but it was still a beautiful morning. The ten-minute walk helped keep me warm as we wound our way through towering glass and steel, past bakeries and corner stores, until we reached our destination: Broad Nosh Bagels.

There are several locations scattered across Manhattan, and I'm going to be honest, I have no idea which one we visited. I only know that my dad vouches for it, and even though he's from the Midwest, spiritually he identifies as a New Yorker.

My best efforts aside, I had not awakened early enough to bypass the lines. We waited outside for about 20 minutes, and while that's not outrageous by NYC standards, Mom and I were shivering by the end of it due to the wind.

Of course, the wait was absolutely worth it.

I ordered a French toast bagel with strawberry cream cheese, and Mom got a bacon, egg, and cheese on an everything bagel. Han ordered the same sandwich as mom, but on a cinnamon raisin bagel, which I found puzzling. He said it was good, and though I trust him, I don't think I'll be trying that combination anytime soon. We also ordered two extra bagels, one for Lottie and one for Seth.

Dad judged us all for our "basic" bagel choices, though I don't remember what kind of bagel he got––only that it was something smugly superior (his opinion, not mine).

A lot of the best places in NYC have limited seating options, so we carried our bounty back to the hotel and met up with Lottie and Seth at my parents' suite, since it was the largest of our three rooms. We spread our breakfast like a mini feast on the coffee table, and Mom and I both traded half of our bagels. The French toast bagel was my favorite, but the bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich was also delicious. They cooked the bacon perfectly! I hate when bacon is super chewy, for the same reason I hate when salmon on a salmon bagel is too chewy––you take one bite, and it'll pull the whole piece out.

Sandwiches should not require strategy, just saying!

After bagels, we took the subway into Chinatown, where everything drips with the color red: lanterns, awnings, Chinese characters on menus and signs. You can hear Chinese music playing in the streets, and the melodic notes of Mandarin mixed with other voices speaking the harsher, more complex sounds of Cantonese. You can still smell the signature NYC scents here––car exhaust, marijuana, the sea––but layered between are scents of sweet pork, oyster sauce, chives, and Shaoxing wine.

This was my second time in Chinatown, my first had been back in January when we went with Geralt and Luna. I'll admit, it probably isn't the best place to go if you've never been to NYC before or if you aren't used to big cities. Chinatown is perfectly safe, it can just be al little overwhelming and all the storefront signs are in Chinese characters, so unless you have a destination picked out, it might be difficult to find what you're looking for.

Dad took us to a place called Jin Mei Dumpling, a tiny little cash-only hole in the wall with no seating, just a window where you walk up and order. We got ten pork buns, and thirty dumplings for $15 ($5 for 10 pork buns, and $5 for 15 dumplings). That fed all six of us, and we couldn't even finish. They were by far the best dumplings I've ever had––though, I'm American and have never been to China, so take that with a grain of MSG.

We ate our dumplings in a nearby park, enjoying every single bite and laughing as Dad shamed us for not being able to finish everything. At that point, we realized we'd made a grave mistake by ordering so much food without ordering anything to drink. We were so thirsty, and the soy sauce on the dumplings wasn't helping at all!

After we had eaten to the point where we all felt like we were going to explode, Dad took us to a boba place with pastel walls and dozens of drinks called Once More Zaipin that was a short walk away. I ordered a matcha tea without boba, because I don't really like the texture. They remind me of that scene in The Incredibles where Mr. Incredible gets caught in those weird expanding balls.

Nuh uh, not in my cup of tea!

BOOK REVIEW: His Dark Materials #1: The Golden Compass (aka Northern Lights) by Philip Pullman

Rating: ★★★★☆

Summary

Lyra is rushing to the cold, far North, where witch clans and armored bears rule. North, where the Gobblers take the children they steal--including her friend Roger. North, where her fearsome uncle Asriel is trying to build a bridge to a parallel world.

Can one small girl make a difference in such great and terrible endeavors? This is Lyra: a savage, a schemer, a liar, and as fierce and true a champion as Roger or Asriel could want--but what Lyra doesn't know is that to help one of them will be to betray the other. – Goodreads Summary

Lyra Belacqua is from Oxford–but not the Oxford we know. In this Oxford, and this entire world, every human has an animal companion, a daemon, that comes into being when they are born, and it is the physical manifestation of a human's soul.

Lyra loves Oxford, but she and her daemon, Pan, long for adventure. When her uncle, Lord Asriel, arrives talking about a strange substance called Dust, Lyra wishes more than anything to join him when he returns to the North, but he refuses to take her with him.

Strange things are happening in Oxford. Children are disappearing, taken by the mysterious Gobblers, and a beautiful, kind woman named Mrs. Coulter comes to take Lyra on as her assistant, giving her the chance to go on the adventures she has always longed for. However, Mrs. Coulter is not all that she seems,

Lyra's journey takes her North to find Roger, but what she discovers is far more terrible than anything she could possibly imagine. Armed only with her cunning and a strange device called an alethiometer that always tells her the truth, Lyra battles with armored bears, the oppressive church called the Magisterium, and possibly the most dangerous people of all … her parents.

My Review

I have been meaning to read this book for a very long time, and I am so happy I've finally gotten around to it. The story is told mainly from Lyra's perspective, which I think was a wonderful way to go about it because Lyra is a child and is still learning how her world works. As we see the narrative develop through her eyes, the reader is also learning about her world in a way that feels natural without any annoying info dumps.

I am also very impressed with Philip Pullman because there are very few male authors who write female characters as full, vibrant, and complex people. Often, female characters are written in supportive roles, or are relegated to being "plot devices" that move the male characters along on their journey. Pullman, in great and wonderful contrast, gives the female characters of this book not only a central role in the narrative, but he also gives them great power and makes them into real people.

Plot: ★★★★☆

The plot of The Golden Compass honestly kept me on the edge of my seat for the entire last half of the book. The first half is also very good, and none of it feels slow or boring, it's just a lot exposition which was fine!

Characters: ★★★★★

Okay I loved Lyra as a character, she was by far my favorite. I also really loved Lee Scoresby, Serafina Pekkala, and Marisa Coulter. However, I think Pullman's brilliance comes from the way he makes even the smallest side characters feel like real people with their own personalities. It felt like he developed all of them and knew who they were at their core, even though we, as the readers, didn't get to see it. This attention to detail just blew me away, which is insane because this book wasn't even very long.

Setting: ★★★★☆

The Golden Compass is set in a parallel version of Europe, similar to our Europe in the 19th or 20th century, but with some steampunk vibes and a bit of magic. In this parallel world, Texas is its own country, human souls exist outside of their bodies in animal form, there are witches, talking bears, and a church with seemingly unlimited power. There is no Christianity in this world, but they know the Biblical story of Genesis and this is a central story to the people and the church–the Magisterium.

Recommended To ...

The Golden Compass (or Northern Lights, as it is known in Europe) is often considered a YA novel, or Middle Grade, but it is perfectly suitable for fantasy-loving adults as well! It was easy to read, but it did not feel simple or "dumbed down" in any way.

Triggers

Non graphic death, non graphic death of children, non graphic kidnapping, small instance of parental-figure abuse toward a child.