Becoming a Writer | alyssa-skyes

Building a Body of Thought

The Freedom of Having No Audience

Why every writer needs a greenhouse before a stage.

When I first decided to make writing a daily part of my life, I was nervous. I have never loved social media, nor did I have the time or desire to spend my days chasing an audience.

So it was an odd feeling after I published my first book and began to ask myself, “Should I keep working on all the writing projects I have lined up, even when I have no audience besides my small immediate circle?”

Over time, however, I realized there is a strange and beautiful freedom in having very few readers.

That may sound ungrateful, and it isn't. I truly value every person who spends time with my work and I receive personal feedback from each of them. They are all people I know. But right now, I am less concerned with building a larger audience than I am with building a body of thought, and that takes time.

Without a large audience, I don't spend my days reading endless comments and opinions, defending half-formed ideas, or feeling pressure to respond to every misunderstanding. Instead, I have the quiet privilege of endless thinking and consistent personal growth.

I don't want my thinking to be shaped by people who are not genuinely interested in the same kinds of questions. I don't mean that with any sense of superiority, it's simply that this is a journey I take to heart. These are not words written merely to fill a page; they are my way of thinking my way through life.

As an artist, I know performance culture often interrupts thinking. The larger the audience, the greater the temptation to simplify, to sound more certain than we are, to change our topics into whatever might be accepted more frequently, or in writing, to defend ideas before they have had time to mature. Curiosity gives way to performance and I am not willing to make that exchange.

Right now, I have the freedom to let my writings sit for months or even years. I can re visit it, revise it, contradict myself, return to it, discover how I change, and maybe write something better. And I have come to see this as a luxury. It becomes much harder when one knows it will immediately be seen by countless strangers.

I often think of it as cultivating a greenhouse. The purpose of a greenhouse is not to hide the plants, but to give them the conditions they need to develop strong roots. Only then are they ready for enduring the changing and often fickle weather outside. And writing for me is no different, this is my season of growing roots before branches. And the beautiful thing about gardens is that they reject urgency, you cannot hurry a root.

So here I am, documenting what it feels like to stand on bridges before I have crossed them. There are hundreds of bridges still ahead, and I have no desire to pretend that I already know where they lead. I get to follow my curiosity, to wander without performance, and to discover the landscape before anyone expects me to hand them a finished map.

And this is a freedom that belongs only to beginnings. Too often we become so focused on where we hope to arrive that we miss the quiet experience of becoming. Beginnings are not empty seasons waiting for success; they are the seasons in which roots are formed. So if you are a new writer, don't be discouraged by a small audience. Protect this time. Stay faithful to your curiosity. Follow your ideas wherever they lead. One day you may discover that what looked like not being seen, was actually the richest season of growth you could have hoped for.

→ The Invisible and the Visible: Philosophical Greenhouse

→ The Seedbed