The Problem with Being ~All The Things~

My personal brand is a goddamn mess

My bio says I’m a writer, comedian and miniaturist. But I am also a social media content creator, marketer, video editor and producer. Aaaand a solo performer, storyteller, artist, crafter, copywriter, idea guy, teacher, advocate and small business owner. I garden, I glue, and I get heated about the issues of the day. I’m a bit of a coward in some respects, and fearless in others. I have a robust collection of vintage cross stitch patterns. I dabble in sourdough. Some people call me Bo. Others call me BoBo. I am a professional Aunt. I am also, on occasion, a dumb bitch. I can wire two strands of string lights together. I love thrift stores and playing piano. I linger on emotional wounds for too long, but I’m getting better at moving past them. I enjoy extremely light beer. My secret to aging is to gradually gain weight so the wrinkles have nowhere to take root. I wash my legs, and I say “lord have mercy” a minimum of thirty times a day.

It seems, despite my best efforts to be otherwise, that I am ~all the things.~ And that includes being sick and tired of the phrase “all the things”! I am done with people using the [“all the” + noun] verbal construct. No, Jessica. You did not drink ALL the wine. And I’m sorry if me saying that gives you ALL the feelings. And if you don’t like it, well, you can suck ALL the my dick!

A few years ago, I would have summarized the above list of personal information as “I contain multitudes.” And a few years before that, I would just be Meredith Brooks and write the song “Bitch.” Regardless, I can no longer deny the truth: I am many things at once. And it’s fine. Not only is it fine, it’s completely normal if not perfectly boring.

The problem is, however, is that whenever I log onto social media, I am confronted with an explicit demand to be One Thing. What is your brand? It must be as clear as an L.A. sky during lockdown.

Not only do you need a brand, but it must be singular, and you also need to broadcast it very frequently. (Recently Facebook sent me a notification saying “We noticed you haven’t posted anything in a few days. Posting daily will help increase your reach.” My reach? Okay Zuck-Fuck. I’ve got an idea. How about you reach up your own ass and pull out whatever stick-bot is up there causing you to ruin the world?)

Social media companies have made us a shimmering promise: Do one thing, do it every single day, and success will follow!

I’ve seen it happen so many times: someone stumbles onto a viral hit and then they’re locked in. “Well, I guess I’m the guy that makes sculptures out of ping pong balls now.” Many comedians I know that would never once talk to an audience member are now full-time Crowd Work Comics, because those videos get big numbers. Creators and artists of all types are siphoning themselves into one thing, because we’re all desperate to survive and this thing appears to actually work. Gettin’ cozy with the algo gives you the ability to build real numbers, and numbers bring money. And voila! You’ve built yourself a nice little creative prison that pays for itself!

The problem with this strategy is that I just made it up. Yes, it’s based on years of paying attention, and I know you’ve seen it in action. But it should come as no surprise that social media companies have never, and never will, keep up their end of the bargain. Because as quickly as you can reach huge audiences and quit your 9-to-5 to dedicate your entire life to flipping old dressers, you can also lose it all the moment the tech companies decide people would rather see videos of old trash cans rolling down a street. Or the companies pivot to favoring “Whisps” (which don’t exist, but I assume when they inevitably arrive, they will be 1-second videos with just a whisper of AI). Or maybe the latest Man Boy Billionaire decides to buy the platform that is your livelihood, and he hastily converts it to his personal ego-stroking machine.

Bottom line, we aren’t nearly in control of what happens to our work online as we think we are. But there aren’t many other ways to reach an audience and/or find customers. So here we are, toiling away on our brands, inserting them into a slot machine and pulling the lever, over and over again.

Of course, the push to have a well-defined brand predated social media. Jesus our Lord himself understood the importance of clear messaging. It didn’t take long into my pursuit of a comedy career to understand that I needed to figure out my niche, and fast. I’d look around at the comedy shows and see others so easily slip into a groove. The one who wears a suit, the one who tells stories about all the crazy shit he did when he was drunk, the one with a weird voice, the one who talks about sex.

I knew I needed an angle and, ultimately, the ability to instantly answer the question “why you?” in any professional setting. My answer to “why you?” has always been instinctively to scream “BECAUSE THIS IS WHAT I WAS BORN TO DO!” But I have learned that doesn’t really explain why you appeal to a particular demo or market. Bookers, casting agents, network executives and gatekeepers of all stripes want to know how you are going to make them money. And increasingly, the underlying meaning behind “why you?” is simply “how many followers did you build by yourself, without our help?”

I have often wondered if I haven’t achieved some of my goals because of my inability to just pick something and stick with it. I even recently took a social media marketing class to try and help make sense of my brand. It was very informative if not inspirational. But when I sat down after to complete a workbook, the whole idea of me having One Thing quickly fell apart.

And, when I posted recently about my struggles to survive in the current climate, some (well-meaning) folks offered up the idea that, these days, we don’t need the gatekeepers! We can build our own careers using social media! Trust me, I’m trying! But finding a large audience online is not that simple (especially one large enough to pay the rent), and in many ways it is more mentally treacherous than the traditional route.

Perhaps the truth is, I simply don’t want to be One Thing. I am nothing without all of it. I never get tired of learning a new skill, of exploring an idea, of connecting one far reach of my creativity to another. My favorite artists create things that are textured, crafted from many layers of meaning and experience, even if the final product is incredibly simple on its surface.

So yes. My social media is going to be an inconsistent, garbled mess of miniatures, comedy, crafting-inspo, auntiecore aesthetic, and potentially cringe writing. Sometimes I think of myself as a “jack of all trades, master of none,” which is a quick way to beat yourself up for not being perfect. I’d like to move into a different way of thinking, follower counts be damned. I may not be a master of one thing, but I could be a conductor of a symphony of ~all the trades~.

Or, I could finally look further into that ADHD diagnosis TikTok has been encouraging me to get!

Time will tell.