Branding yourself as a writer or artist cuts off your arms, legs, and, most importantly, your brain, because it asks you to do the thing that all capitalists (not artists or spiritualists) love—specialize. The ball and chain.
You must paint yourself as edgy or flowery, spiritual or intellectual, a psychological mess or a grounded sage, maybe a hybrid of two or three, and there you are, comfy and cozy and stuck in a box that they can easily sell. In a box that the public can easily understand, which removes the need for anyone to stretch their head.
You must slap pictures of this image all over your Twitter and Instagram feeds.
The entities that ask you to become a Brand are centralized—publishing companies, for example, and then the social platforms. Twitter, Facebook, and even Steemit turn the public into one great mass, and its tastes become the Gatekeepers. These followers follow what others follow and, as a result, the hive mind falls in love with trending aesthetics and trending philosophical considerations that masquerade as timeless truths.
We, as a Western culture, worship strife too much.
To be an influencer, of course, you need a Brand, and with it a narrow lens. Maybe you write about sobriety, maybe psychological transformation, maybe food or travel, and, if you write fiction, you must choose between being a literary author or an airport author, or maybe you write about ghosts and horror or sex, but if you want to earn a living, you can't write about it all. If you do, you will have no Brand. Without a Brand, you are truly worthless to the Gatekeepers.
This presumption, on behalf of the Gatekeepers and those trying to break through the Gates, is patently absurd. It robs us of our creativity and our humanity and keeps us cornered in mediocrity.
Dilatancy isn't necessarily a good thing; working a craft, moulding a talent, pushing through discomfort—these activities are of immense value. The willingness to experience discomfort during the learning curve of any craft or sport is critical for the development of not only aptitude but also psychological and physical fortitude.
But limiting ourselves, shoving ourselves in a particular box, it's a sad, sad exercise, and one that is becoming far too common. Why are we not questioning this imperative?
Why aren't we rebelling?
