Productive artists are selfish and arrogant.

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When I was in high school, I secretly thought kids who wanted to be artists when they grew up were selfish bastards. How could a person be so enamored with their point of view that they thought slapping paint on a canvas would be valuable to society? 

I felt so smug in my own path. I was going to study history. I was going to figure out how the world worked and shape it. I was going to make a difference. I was going to be a leader and not a cog in the wheel.

Those wannabe artists could spend their whole day playing. I’d spend my days kicking ass and taking names.

It’s been two decades since high school and now I’m one of those self-centered artist types that I used to judge.

Artists Steal Resources to Indulge their Ego

I’ve observed that being an artist requires megalomaniacal levels of confidence. Artists have to believe that all the time they spend in the studio is worth the opportunity cost of having a real job. They have to believe they can contribute to society in ways that cannot be measured by dollars. (At least initially.)

The inner conviction of an artist has to be so bullet proof that when they get turned away over and over by intelligent minds who say: Your story is boring. Your art is ugly. No one cares about your point of view. You have nothing new to say—To keep going anyway. Artists must stay anchored in the belief that what they are doing with their time, their hands, their mind, their future, is worthwhile.

The core belief of artists is that they have something unique to say, and that the world should listen. Art is born from an artist’s lived experience, their interpretation of the world. Come see water lilies through my eyes. Or: my cancer diagnosis story will make you feel alive. Or: my abusive father’s childhood will teach you about poverty in America. Or: my graffiti bears more truth than the news.

Artists must be selfish. There’s no other way to get our point of view heard. Society says that the resources we artists possess—our mind, our time, our focus—should be allocated for money-making, our families, our children, our community. But we steal those resources for ourselves.

And for what? To put bits of ourselves into the world in the form of images and words and sounds and ideas. We call that art. What could be more arrogant?

Artists are selfish—I have receipts.

Last week I pledged to analyze six months of time-tracking data about my work habits as a novelist. I have recorded every minute spent writing, reading, learning, networking, marketing, organizing, planning, and everything else a writer does with their working hours.

Here’s what the data shows:

In 25 weeks, I spent 87 hours just consuming content. For about 3.5 hours a week, I watched YouTube videos, read Substack, and skimmed craft books that inspired me to write. Most of that occurred right before intense writing sessions.

I spent 73 hours on creative writing education, including classes, workshops, and webinars. Just under 3 hours a week.

I spent 78 hours, just over 3 hours a week, on physical activity (Peleton, dance classes). Regular cardio improved my sleep, mood, attention, and energy levels.

And last, but most importantly, I spent 182 hours of my best brain function drafting the novel. That averages to about 7.3 hours a week of writing. Almost all of those were spent between the hours of 10am and 2pm, my most productive time.

Even though I only clocked 182 hours directly writing my novel, I required an additional 238 hours to prepare my brain to write and to do it well. That means I spent at least 9.5 hours of my workweek on activities supporting brain function.

Notice that I have now gone so far as to justify my mindless youtubing as “necessary” for doing my art. I am making fun of myself, but in truth: that shit works. I spent hundreds of hours priming my brain to pull taut like a string behind an arrow. I needed my mind sharp and tense to nail those words to a page.

When people ask me how I wrote a whole novel in seven months I point to the numbers. I put in the time. I gave the project my best brain. Et voila. A whole draft.

I haven’t even talked about all time I spent setting up processes to be productive—the tools I learned to use (Obsidian, ToggleTrack), or the hours dedicated to “personal knowledge management.”  

Being Selfish is Key to Actually Making Your Art

The data is clear. For months, I selfishly set aside my ability to make money for my family. I set aside the opportunity to spend all day with my young son. I didn’t use my productive brain to do work “benefiting society.”  Instead, I pursued the insane dream of writing a novel.

The arrogant little shit that is my current psyche must have lived in me all along. Before, she thought she’d change the world with laws and society and politics. Now she understands that her best shot at influence is through her ideas. Her stories have a better chance than any cog-in-wheel law job she’d ever have.

Here’s what I think, dear readers. If you spend any time on creating—even it’s just your free time, your nights, your weekends, the quiet pre-dawn hours before work or in the middle of the night—you must believe that you are special.  

And you SHOULD.

Let’s stop hiding that belief like it’s some shameful secret. Put it out in the open. Embrace it. No use being fettered by false humility.

You need that self-belief. It will keep you going when the whole world tells you no. It’s the voice that says: me me me me me. It’s the one that encourages you to be selfish.

This week I dare you:

• Stop feeling like you need permission to choose yourself.

• Make your art a priority.

• Do less work at your “real” job.

• Eke out writing in the hours before work.

• Spend all your best brain energy on creativity.

• Let your kid stay in daycare for the extra 30 minutes so you can think.

• Order food for dinner, don’t cook.

• Take all the short cuts.

Art is not for the feeble hearted. Guard your time like a lion. Steal those moments to find your unique voice. All artists are selfish. You are no different.

Write on,

Noor

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Question for the comments:

What is the most “selfish” thing you’ve done for art?