Announcement!
Ch-ch-ch-changes…
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking…
First of all, I’m approaching a full year of this weekly Substack endeavour! I think I’ve managed to stay consistently all over the place, as random as planned, flip-flopping between songs, prose, audio, video, sharing half-baked work, not worrying too much, staying true to my foggy notions…
A recap:
At the start of 2022 I was 6 months into motherhood, sleep deprived, music career still on parental/pandemic hiatus, and in real need of a creative outlet. So I started these Sunday morning missives. I had no idea so many people would follow along so closely. The enthusiasm really spurred me on, thank you.
An update:
At the end of 2022 I am 18 months into motherhood, still sleep deprived, but suddenly very busy with projects and in real need of… time. Amongst other things the new album is finally coming out next year, on a new label! I promise this isn’t a Substack break-up speech… It’s more like a can we take things slow AND let’s move in together AND I’m kind of seeing someone else, all at the same time…
I’ll cut to the chase.
I wrote a novel — not the one I’ve been sharing extracts from, another one — never mind which one — a book I wrote during the pandemic — a highly personal fictional memoir. A modern day love story with age-old challenges, from infidelity and infertility. It’s funny and sad and might even be brilliant!
And then I had an epiphany, thanks in part to the feedback on here. This story, I realised, will live its best life in audio. A narrative podcast, I believe, is the correct term. A serialised story for your ears. A synthesis of all my years as a writer, performer, musician… I’ve started working on it, editing, recording, soundtracking… You will love it. I just need to invent some extra hours in the day to make it.
Where is all this going?
1) Starting next year I’ll be sending out these email offerings once a month instead of once a week. As well as freeing up time to work on my audio extravaganza, it will allow me to keep the content classy, up the ante with more new songs, videos, articles and surprises on the first Sunday morning of every month. Quality not quantity, less is more, you get it… I’ll still post weekly until January 1st because that day I’ll hit exactly 50 posts in 12 months and who doesn’t like round numbers and feelings of accomplishment. 50!
2) I’m finally going to do what everyone seems to do here on Substack (even Patti Smith, who is my moral compass…) which is to turn on paid subscriptions. Or to “Go Paid”, as they put it. I’m not going to lock anything away behind a paywall, I’m simply going to turn on the option to get a paid subscription, in case you’d like to support my work going forward. Or retrospectively… Here look, this is the button:
No pressure.
I don’t know how to write no pressure without it sounding disingenuous, but really, no pressure. I won’t judge. I won’t even look. That’s a lie, I’ll probably look. But I’ll try to only look at who has paid, rather than who hasn’t. I will be grateful rather than resentful. In fact I’ll probably feel a little awkward if I ever bump into a paying customer and immediately buy them lunch. Seriously though, please continue to enjoy and engage even if you’re on a free subscription. That’s the whole reason I’m keeping everything free.
So wait, how much are we talking?
You mean what will this act of no-pressure generosity cost you? £5 per month seems to be the going rate. So like… half a negroni a month, or one and a half extra cappuccinos. Or there’s a £50 per year option, which, if you’re any good at maths, is a discount in exchange for your upfront commitment. There’s also a choose-your-price “founding member” option if you’re feeling decadent.
Will that really help?
Yes. As well as adding tangible value to all the music and words I’ve been sharing and will continue to share with you — and boosting my ego — your subscription will amount to very practical help in these very stretchy times. [Long ramble about the dire state of the music industry...] You can think of it as childcare contribution. Or rather, allowing me to escape my very chatty toddler for a few hours at the café downstairs (fresh mint tea £2.50) to finish writing and editing Season One of my totally fictional yet highly incriminating podcast…
Hold up!
So am I actually asking you to pay for something that is otherwise completely free? Yes. But you will be helping make my audio storytelling dreams come true! Needless to say you will also be the first to hear the podcast. In fact I was thinking you might even give me feedback on the pilot episode… And of course we can do exclusive online gigs, where I take requests and thank you profusely… or I can offer private singing lessons to your sister’s dog… the world is our oyster! I don’t want to smother you in buzz words like backstage access and bonus content and inner circle, but I do promise I’ll look after you.
Ok, that’s my sales pitch.
You might remember a song I shared a while back called Everybody’s Hustling. I feel it’s only appropriate to share it again now while I fold myself into an origami turtle and hide in a corner.
Everybody’s Hustling - Lail Arad:
And now I will nervously twiddle my thumbs whilst staring at the tip jar…
No pressure.
Lail x
Well thought-out, Lail. Creatives, whether in music or books or spoken word, have entered an era when remuneration is small, if it comes at all. In the '60s, every last penny of a kid's allowance went to buying record albums. In the '70s, everyone on the tube was reading a hardback novel, or at least a Penguin. Those eras are as vanished as the cigarette smoke that punctuated them. Instead of everyone puffing, heads are bent over devices. Perhaps it's all back to an era of serial subscription (Dickens) or patronage (Mozart). Onwards in any case, by whatever means work can find its way to an audience.
Ooh how exciting!! Your writing is so brilliant — your words already leap off the page. Adding in the audio component is going to be a delight!