I think everyone feels this way sometimes. You’re someone else’s Mozart and probably feel like someone else’s Salieri. Every finished work is, on some level, a failure, cos it’s not everything, it’s not the whole world. And that’s fine. That’s what the next work is for, to make the work again. Maybe it’ll be better. The only thing that really matters is trying again, and trying to make that new thing everything it wants to be. The work knows itself better than you do.
Anyway, thanks for being so open. Your work is a major reason I do this stuff.
I've spent a lot of time struggling to get by, to even exist, while I try to get my name and voice out there. Finally this past year I started a project, an actual play podcast, with some close friends, and was absolutely gobsmacked when we got nominated for an award
We didn't win the award, of course- we're a small-time project with no money backing us, and I do all the editing myself, something I'm definitely not particularly skilled at- but, some part of me hopes it's the start of something more, an upturn in my life.
But... it's still painful, too. To be small, unheard. And chances are, we aren't going to make it big or anything. But I still hope.
Anywho, none of this is particularly relevant, lol. I enjoy your words and your work- thank you for everything you do <3
this is so fucking real. i don’t think there’s a cure for Being An Artist; even those who *have* made it big, the Mozarts in your analogy, feel like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the hollowness inside of them or the flatness of their work to be revealed to the world. art (and what you make IS art, i don’t think there’s any arguing otherwise) is inherently insecure. it relies on believing that other people care what you have to say, but most of us have been told our whole lives that what we have to say is valueless.
what i CAN say is that i keep a journal – an “inspiration notebook,” a commonplace book, whatever you want to call it – where i write down things i come across that inspire me. this article is getting printed out and glued in there. what i CAN say is Songbirds reignited my friend’s passion for fantasy and encouraged it to finish its novel, and to include neopronouns and fucked up polycule drama in it. what i CAN say is .dungeon was the first ttrpg i could convince my twin sister to play with me, and now she’s providing one-page games to guests at her wedding reception. what i CAN say is no matter what kind of formal “legacy” you leave behind, everything you create has an effect on the here and now, and it’s wonderful.
Thanks for the reminder to include messy polecule drama in my writing. That might just be the missing ingredient. "Someone You Can Build a Nest In" was what encouraged me to use neonpronouns and not worry about readers thinking it's out of place, whatever that even means in a fantasy setting.
But Snow was the one who got me back into writing to begin with, thanks to Lilancholy and Wizards of the Wastes and especially Songbirds. Those books are works of art on my shelf.
Thank you Snow, for helping me see that I don't need to wait for anyone's permission to just write my weird ideas and not worry if anyone will "get" them. It's been a joy and an amazing outlet for my passion.
I definitely feel this. I've been writing games for my personal satisfaction for over 20 years and I've never even had the guts to publish even a free ttrpg. I'm nearly 40 and I feel as though I've missed my chance. Now I just have to live with the feeling of never even giving myself the proper chance to fail.
you should just throw them up on itch and talk about them on twitter. even as just a hobby. i love reading people's games. i read games all the time and am always looking for more <3
Thanks for sharing your thoughts so openly. It made for a somber read for me but good food for thought. I’m a firm believer that nothing is ever perfect or is ever going to be, and that’s perfectly okay.
I think it’s also okay to have hopes and dreams, to have that sense of wonder and the possibility of what could be. But managing the expectations that can sometimes come with that in that they can backfire when we feel that overwhelming sense of “I’m not good enough”. Overall though I think it’s a human thing, what you are describing. And there is beauty in the mundane.
(Also depression sucks. For me creating and exploring others creative pursuits in ttrpgs and figuring out how to channel my own creativity has been a panacea to it.)
Luck is a big factor too. I think people don't realize that enough. You can do everything great (or "better"), yet not have kind or scale of success of whomever you're comparing yourself to, because there are so many more factors at play than what you can see. And some of it can be right time/place/"product". That lots of people are starving for that particular thing at that particular moment, and enough of them happen to find it.
Even though we have different focuses with our creative work, you’ve hit on something essential in this article. In my own work, I might call it an archetypal force of self doubt. But no matter what we call it it’s incredibly relatable.
These days, my focus with my creative work is to earn enough money to subsidize the kind of job that is relaxed enough that it allows me to spend time making art on the side. After all, is my goal to make money or is my goal to express myself?
Plus, Herman Melville died pennyless. Now his work is a classic.
Meanwhile, it’s almost too perfect that you used the movie Amadeus as an example of a giant who survived the tides of time: it’s a totally fictional misrepresentation of who Mozart really was! The relationship with the lesser known composer in that movie is an invention of the writers.
No matter who we are and how important our work is, the story of our life will be lost in time. We will be forgotten.
And if our names aren’t, for example, if we become as famous as Jesus or something, our lives will be totally misinterpreted. Our work will become twisted. Do you really want crusades fought in your name? Maybe your RPG campaigns will survive for centuries, but to do so, they’d probably have to become a metaphor that some fascist regime finds useful toward exacting a genocide or something.
Think about it, if there WAS a historical Jesus (just pretend for a minute if you have to) he probably preached loving your neighbor and self-actualizing through personal transcendence, right? I think he’d be pretty annoyed by all the murder enacted in the name of his teaching of love. (Not that I’m super Jesus-y myself. It’s just an illustration.)
I know that sounds crazy, but the point is, obscurity comes for us all.
As silly as this is going to sound considering the Mozart/Salieri dichotomy, as a much smaller-time creator, I have only found one answer to this conundrum. I remind myself that for the medium of TTRPGs, The Work, in the esoteric or alchemical sense, is literally the friends we made along the way. TTRPGs are about sitting around a table with some friendly faces and reclaiming an important virtue of human experience that is forcibly lost through Neoliberalist and Puritanical ideas of righteous labor. In this world, of which the average person is forced through threat of violence and starvation to work tirelessly to the bone for the capital gain of fascists we'll likely never have the chance to meet face to face with, simply so their families can eat and have a roof over their heads, where can they find solace? Where can they find community? Where can they pursue the lost or surrendered dreams? At your table. At my table. The reality is that there isn't enough resources/hours in the day/dollars/ for all creators to get the respect and glory they deserve. Few of us will be Mozarts. More will be Salieris. Even more will be bedroom composers whose names are lost to history.
I've made peace with the fact that I will likely always be in that last category, because if I didn't make an effort to find peace with that fact, I would be dishonoring some of the most important people in my life. I would be dishonouring my own love for roleplaying games. I don't make games to be a "respected artist" or whatever that means (what in the hell does it even mean?). I make games to watch my wife's eyes light up when she rolls a nat 20. I make games so my best friend can explore his incredible problem solving skills. I make games for that kid at work who doesn't feel safe to outwardly present his true gender to our colleagues, but comes to my games and isn't deadnamed by everyone present. I make games for myself.
I think everyone feels this way sometimes. You’re someone else’s Mozart and probably feel like someone else’s Salieri. Every finished work is, on some level, a failure, cos it’s not everything, it’s not the whole world. And that’s fine. That’s what the next work is for, to make the work again. Maybe it’ll be better. The only thing that really matters is trying again, and trying to make that new thing everything it wants to be. The work knows itself better than you do.
Anyway, thanks for being so open. Your work is a major reason I do this stuff.
Honestly, you're so real. My entire career is built on doing what I've already done but better. It all feels very iterative.
I like that line - you are someone’s Mozart and someone else’s Salieri. I think a good deal of luck goes in to all this too.
I've spent a lot of time struggling to get by, to even exist, while I try to get my name and voice out there. Finally this past year I started a project, an actual play podcast, with some close friends, and was absolutely gobsmacked when we got nominated for an award
We didn't win the award, of course- we're a small-time project with no money backing us, and I do all the editing myself, something I'm definitely not particularly skilled at- but, some part of me hopes it's the start of something more, an upturn in my life.
But... it's still painful, too. To be small, unheard. And chances are, we aren't going to make it big or anything. But I still hope.
Anywho, none of this is particularly relevant, lol. I enjoy your words and your work- thank you for everything you do <3
What's your podcast? >.> I'd love to check it out
oh, it's called Yeldplay! We've got 15 episodes out so far, and the 16th is going up before the end of the month <333 https://shows.acast.com/yeldplay
(also we've started uploading them to youtube as well, but we're only up to episode 6 over there)
this is so fucking real. i don’t think there’s a cure for Being An Artist; even those who *have* made it big, the Mozarts in your analogy, feel like they’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the hollowness inside of them or the flatness of their work to be revealed to the world. art (and what you make IS art, i don’t think there’s any arguing otherwise) is inherently insecure. it relies on believing that other people care what you have to say, but most of us have been told our whole lives that what we have to say is valueless.
what i CAN say is that i keep a journal – an “inspiration notebook,” a commonplace book, whatever you want to call it – where i write down things i come across that inspire me. this article is getting printed out and glued in there. what i CAN say is Songbirds reignited my friend’s passion for fantasy and encouraged it to finish its novel, and to include neopronouns and fucked up polycule drama in it. what i CAN say is .dungeon was the first ttrpg i could convince my twin sister to play with me, and now she’s providing one-page games to guests at her wedding reception. what i CAN say is no matter what kind of formal “legacy” you leave behind, everything you create has an effect on the here and now, and it’s wonderful.
Thanks for the reminder to include messy polecule drama in my writing. That might just be the missing ingredient. "Someone You Can Build a Nest In" was what encouraged me to use neonpronouns and not worry about readers thinking it's out of place, whatever that even means in a fantasy setting.
But Snow was the one who got me back into writing to begin with, thanks to Lilancholy and Wizards of the Wastes and especially Songbirds. Those books are works of art on my shelf.
Thank you Snow, for helping me see that I don't need to wait for anyone's permission to just write my weird ideas and not worry if anyone will "get" them. It's been a joy and an amazing outlet for my passion.
yo, this means the world to me. tysm for the kind words <3
Thank you so much for the kind words <3 I'm glad my works have resonated with folks. Truly means the world to me.
for what it's worth, you've been my favourite TRPG creator for years now :)
yippee!! <333
I definitely feel this. I've been writing games for my personal satisfaction for over 20 years and I've never even had the guts to publish even a free ttrpg. I'm nearly 40 and I feel as though I've missed my chance. Now I just have to live with the feeling of never even giving myself the proper chance to fail.
you should just throw them up on itch and talk about them on twitter. even as just a hobby. i love reading people's games. i read games all the time and am always looking for more <3
Never too late to just throw something out there. We never really know what we’ll catch when we go fishing, it’s part of why we do it.
Thanks for sharing your thoughts so openly. It made for a somber read for me but good food for thought. I’m a firm believer that nothing is ever perfect or is ever going to be, and that’s perfectly okay.
I think it’s also okay to have hopes and dreams, to have that sense of wonder and the possibility of what could be. But managing the expectations that can sometimes come with that in that they can backfire when we feel that overwhelming sense of “I’m not good enough”. Overall though I think it’s a human thing, what you are describing. And there is beauty in the mundane.
(Also depression sucks. For me creating and exploring others creative pursuits in ttrpgs and figuring out how to channel my own creativity has been a panacea to it.)
oh yeah, creating a much more solid work/life balance since going full time has done wonders for my mental health/fortitude haha
Just finished reading this, it made me really happy to know I am not alone in this.
Luck is a big factor too. I think people don't realize that enough. You can do everything great (or "better"), yet not have kind or scale of success of whomever you're comparing yourself to, because there are so many more factors at play than what you can see. And some of it can be right time/place/"product". That lots of people are starving for that particular thing at that particular moment, and enough of them happen to find it.
Even though we have different focuses with our creative work, you’ve hit on something essential in this article. In my own work, I might call it an archetypal force of self doubt. But no matter what we call it it’s incredibly relatable.
These days, my focus with my creative work is to earn enough money to subsidize the kind of job that is relaxed enough that it allows me to spend time making art on the side. After all, is my goal to make money or is my goal to express myself?
Plus, Herman Melville died pennyless. Now his work is a classic.
Meanwhile, it’s almost too perfect that you used the movie Amadeus as an example of a giant who survived the tides of time: it’s a totally fictional misrepresentation of who Mozart really was! The relationship with the lesser known composer in that movie is an invention of the writers.
No matter who we are and how important our work is, the story of our life will be lost in time. We will be forgotten.
And if our names aren’t, for example, if we become as famous as Jesus or something, our lives will be totally misinterpreted. Our work will become twisted. Do you really want crusades fought in your name? Maybe your RPG campaigns will survive for centuries, but to do so, they’d probably have to become a metaphor that some fascist regime finds useful toward exacting a genocide or something.
Think about it, if there WAS a historical Jesus (just pretend for a minute if you have to) he probably preached loving your neighbor and self-actualizing through personal transcendence, right? I think he’d be pretty annoyed by all the murder enacted in the name of his teaching of love. (Not that I’m super Jesus-y myself. It’s just an illustration.)
I know that sounds crazy, but the point is, obscurity comes for us all.
As silly as this is going to sound considering the Mozart/Salieri dichotomy, as a much smaller-time creator, I have only found one answer to this conundrum. I remind myself that for the medium of TTRPGs, The Work, in the esoteric or alchemical sense, is literally the friends we made along the way. TTRPGs are about sitting around a table with some friendly faces and reclaiming an important virtue of human experience that is forcibly lost through Neoliberalist and Puritanical ideas of righteous labor. In this world, of which the average person is forced through threat of violence and starvation to work tirelessly to the bone for the capital gain of fascists we'll likely never have the chance to meet face to face with, simply so their families can eat and have a roof over their heads, where can they find solace? Where can they find community? Where can they pursue the lost or surrendered dreams? At your table. At my table. The reality is that there isn't enough resources/hours in the day/dollars/ for all creators to get the respect and glory they deserve. Few of us will be Mozarts. More will be Salieris. Even more will be bedroom composers whose names are lost to history.
I've made peace with the fact that I will likely always be in that last category, because if I didn't make an effort to find peace with that fact, I would be dishonoring some of the most important people in my life. I would be dishonouring my own love for roleplaying games. I don't make games to be a "respected artist" or whatever that means (what in the hell does it even mean?). I make games to watch my wife's eyes light up when she rolls a nat 20. I make games so my best friend can explore his incredible problem solving skills. I make games for that kid at work who doesn't feel safe to outwardly present his true gender to our colleagues, but comes to my games and isn't deadnamed by everyone present. I make games for myself.