on vocal burnout.

I've been writing on Vocal for over 2 years now, and for the first time in my independent blogging career, it feels like I've hit a brick wall.

It looks like this: I'll be chilling in my sunny backyard when suddenly, an idea strikes for a new Vocal article. Quickly, I grab my phone, log on to Vocal, and tap the "Create Story" tab. I'll input the title and maybe a line or two. I'll do a bit of research, put in a pretty Unsplash photo for the time being.

And then...nothing. The idea just sits there in my drafts, sometimes for months on end.

I can't say I don't know where this burnout-procrastination-lack-of-effort monster is coming from. If I had to boil it down to four reasons on a numbered list, well...this would be it.

I put my heart and soul into Vocal last year after the acting industry was shuttered by the pandemic. Now that auditions and productions are returning, more of my attention is back on my old passion.

I now have a writing job that pays me the same amount as winning a challenge every month. So unlike last year, I don't desperately need prize or tip money.

Two of my biggest Vocal inspirations - Malin Evita and Laquesha Bailey - seem to be retired (or are writing less frequently) on Vocal. Malin hasn't posted anything in 4 months, and rumor has it Laquesha quit after the Old Barn challenge fiasco. However, she still writes on Medium.

I feel like I've done everything I've wanted to do on Vocal. I've won challenges, have two resource articles...I'm even making a passive income through reads. I don't have to work any harder. There's nothing more to prove.

This pressure to push out new content has been made worse by the recent addition of subscribers. Don't get me wrong - I'm so happy this feature has been added to Vocal. In fact,I've been a supporter of Vocal adding subscriptions or some kind of follower system for the last year.

But checking my follower account at this point in time gets me worried. I was writing into the void, hoping people would click on my content just by how intellectual or funny the title or cover photo seemed. Now, I can see how many people actually care about my work on a regular basis. And I don't want to let them down.

I realize I'm not the first artist to experience burnout after achieving some degree of success on their designated internet platform. There are so many "burnout" videos from vloggers on YouTube, the topic is essentially its own genre.

What's hard though is that Vocal is part of my identity now. Google my name, and many Vocal-related posts appear. The last two times I've gone out with old high school friends to catch up on life, they've told me, "so I saw an ad of you on Facebook...about how you made money on this website called Vocal?"

Because I've had so much unexpected success in my two years on Vocal, it's hard to let go of that dopamine high that comes with quickly gaining 1,000 reads thanks to a top story or placing in a challenge. If I get less than 30 reads on a new post, it feels like a failure. (Even though I know 30 reads for someone else might be a win!)

Thus: burnout. Because I'm scared to flop, it's hard to get anything out at all. I draft a new idea and immediately think to myself: is this something people would care about reading? Rather than writing my piece because I genuinely want to write it.

I've been listening to this great podcast recently called Make Art Not Content which talks about this issue. In the show's most recent episode called "Why Creatives Should Not Avoid Conflict," Father Bronques talks about how as an artist, your work needs to have a "message." That's the difference between true authentic art and content that's just made to appease the masses. Your work needs to be vulnerable in some way.

Vulnerability is goddamn hard. Everybody knows that. But at the same time, I love it. I feel like my best work on Vocal comes when I'm being vulnerable. My very first challenge win, The Hall of Faces, was about me opening up about my jaw disfigurement as a teen. When I won the OG Celebrity Crush challenge, I was terrified of sharing my story because I thought someone I knew would see it and think I'm a wackjob. (Or even worse: someone from the crew of the film.)

And even more - I lost my relationship with my father after ousting his racist behavior in an article I wrote last year. It's why I don't share my new Vocal stories on social media anymore. I thought he wouldn't read it, since he never read any of my past work throughout the years, but when my name started to blow up on Vocal, he decided to look me up. Then he came across that article.

I don't regret writing it. It needed to be let off my chest. In fact, my creative writing professor in college always said to my class, "never apologize for what you say in your memoirs. It's your story, not your friends' or family's. To hold things back just makes it less true." Writing what I wrote took a lot of vulnerability, and I'm proud of past me for doing it.

Since the beginning of this year, my father has given me the silent treatment. Even though we currently live in the same house, we don't speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. It doesn't bother me. We've argued so much in the past, it's best for both of us to avoid each other. I'm toxic for him, he's toxic for me. Although, I have seen an improvement in him since he accidentally read the piece. When other relatives bring up conservative political stuff around me, he'll try to steer the conversation in another direction.

But getting back to the point...I think lack of vulnerability is the thing that stops me from putting out work sometimes. I can't feel the emotion in a top 10 piece or product review. They are stale time-wasters: both to write and to read. So why create them?

This happens with more than just writing. A month or two ago, I was contacted by a bracelet brand on Instagram to do a collaboration where I'd post a photo of me wearing their bracelets and in return, they would upload the photos of me onto their 589K follower-backed account. Because I'm an attention princess, I figured it would be a good way to gain exposure.

I said 'yes' and they gave me a promo code to buy one of their bracelets at a discount. They told me I could mention the promo code in my Instagram caption so my followers could purchase their bracelets at a reduced price as well.

I tried to do an aesthetically-pleasing photoshoot of the bracelets without my face in it, using the Fourth of July timing to my advantage with some sparkler fun. I tried to make the pics less "influencer-y" and more artistic. After all, I'm not a doll-faced model with over 100k followers. I'm just Katy Milewski from New Jersey.

Here's how my photos came out, by the way...

I sent the account my pictures, messaging, "hey, are these okay? Lemme know before I post them!" And I got nothing. Radio silence. This company so eager to have me collaborate, now ignoring my desire to aid them.

Then I realized why. They wanted me to post the photos first, then they'd allow my artwork to be on their account. This made me think. Do I really want to be posting these bracelets I only bought for clout onto my personal Instagram that I use for authentic self expression? The company even claimed to make their bracelets for "domestic violence awareness" but didn't state if their proceeds even went to anti-domestic violence organizations.

So I decided not to go through with it. Thanks to Reddit, I now know the company is just a scam. Still, I'm grateful for the experience of backing out of a brand deal, because it showed me my core values as an artist. I want to make art, not content. My work must have deeper meaning in order to be special to me.

So maybe I'm experiencing Vocal burnout nowadays. For all you shiny new subscribers, it means you're not going to see my posts in your feed as much as other writers on this site. But if you're cool with that, please stick around. My burnout is not a roadblock, but a stop sign telling me to slow down before zooming down the highway towards my final destination.

Perhaps I'm not the only one on Vocal facing burnout, so let me say this. Your burnout is not here to stop you. It's merely your mind's way of letting you know what's not working in your creative life. To try and conquer it is an uphill battle. Accept it. Work with it. Use it.

Burnout just means you're ready to shake things up. To change the game. To maybe - just maybe - do something no one has ever done before. As American songwriter Michael Gungor once said, "Burnout is what happens when you try to avoid being human for too long."

It's not a sign of weakness. It's not the dimming of the flame: it's only the reignition of passion.

Now enjoy this cute meme I found of a dolphin telling you to go find your real porpoise in life.

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Likes, tips, subscriptions are greatly appreciated, but not required. Thanks for reading. My insta is @katyisaladybug if ya wanna keep up with the madness.

Until next time,

-Katy