Just because it’s beautiful, doesn’t mean it belongs.
A colourful envelope slipped under a door. There’s a tile floor and an Ikea bamboo shoe rack (our old studio!). Photo by Shannon Litt.
Hey you.
On our staff website, where we keep class plans and training notes and resources, we have a big doc called, “Just because it’s beautiful, doesn’t mean it belongs.”
This is where we put all the ideas that just don’t fit. Maybe they’re too resource-heavy, or too similar to someone else’s thing, or too new. Every so often, I drop by to feel all the potential stored up in there, and to remind myself that creativity is so much bigger than what we see on the surface.
In August, we are drawing one of our most beloved programs to a close — Hello Writer.
It will be seven years since we started filling envelopes with writerly goodies and mailing them out. Seven years of brainstorming treats, writing letters, researching postal policies, corresponding with subscribers, and sitting in the beautiful and complicated back and forth of any shared creative project.
By August, we will have sent over 16,000 packs to nearly 1,400 mailboxes. There’s a feeling of completion in the air. We’ve loved watching this idea grow from a little seed to the tree it became, and it’s time to move this creativity into other areas.
Okay… everything I’ve said here is true, but I can feel myself avoiding something.
It is so tempting to keep this message vague and surface-level — it’s just time. La la la. Everything comes to a close eventually.
But closure is gritty, and I don’t want to hold back the deeper truths.
So I’ll tell you — yes, this is partly about money. Hello Writer has either broken even or lost a little from the start, despite tremendous creative work to grow it. We kept it going because we love it, but it’s really hard to sell creative products these days. Anyone out there also wrestling with numbers, I see you.
But if I’m going to be really honest, I’d have to say that it’s also me.
Sitting here at my desk writing this, the grey clouds outside my window filled with fresh rain, I’m jealous. Something is trying to spill out of me that’s bigger than what I can fit in those little envelopes. I’m not sure what it is yet, but I know I’ve passed a finish line, and it’s time to find a new one to move towards.
Here’s what I want you to take from this: Make the thing you want to make.
Don’t be afraid of it not working. Nothing “works” forever, but in the long stretch between dawn and sunset, so much can happen.
“So much” for Hello Writer was jobs for two amazing people, and contract work for countless more who helped us print, ship, photograph, design, and promote this project. It was conversations on the sidewalk with subscribers, endless emails congratulating people on the writing the packs inspired.
“So much” was a sparkling sense of purpose and direction for seven years. Pride. Delight. I want that for all of us. Over and over and over.
And ooooh yeah: It’s not too late to get in on these last three packs!
They are going to be so sweet. June’s will be about the creative power of “less.” I’ll give you a set of questions to ask if you’re thinking of sunsetting your own project, and dive deeper into the backstory of this closure.
July, we’ll explore connection and bringing principles of biodiversity to our creative lives. August, I’m not sure yet. There will be stickers, affirmation cards, and other treats throughout.
It will greatly help us cover our final costs to send more packs, so we appreciate your business, and we promise to make it super fun. :)
To do the work of our complicated little hearts, we need to keep asking — what matters most right now?
What’s ready to fade and what’s trying to grow? Just because it’s beautiful doesn’t mean it belongs forever. That’s a good thing, because there’s always something new to make.
In it with you,
