Writing

On Creation

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No, not in the biblical sense (or in the bedroom sense… boy, I should really rethink that title…)

(This is actually a journal entry, but it felt like a blog post when I finished, so I copied it here too)

I’m almost 50. Well, recently 49, and 49 is close to 50. And while I’ve been financially poor and financially well off, very rarely in my life has the thing I love doing been the same as the thing that makes money. Making money doesn’t really motivate me.

Don’t get me wrong, I WISH IT DID. Because making money, or more specifically *not* making money, is the thing I think about the most. Literally all day every day. For someone not motivated by making money, I think about making money to an absurd degree. And it ends up being a really weird dynamic. Allow me to elucidate a bit. (I mean, this is my journal so whatever I want to blabber about is fine)

I don’t think a person must love their job, and find passion in how they make money in order to be fulfilled in life. In many ways, I think tying your passion to your employment is a dangerous game that often leads to hating the thing you once loved. The nuance for me is, the main thing I’m good at (using technology) is a skill that facilitates the thing which brings me joy (helping other people, improving the lives of other people).

You’d think that would be the dog’s balls. (is that a saying?) I could help people at home, in their businesses, etc. — and it would also be a way to bring in a steady income. But my lack of being motivated by money screws it all up. See, if I help someone and then take money for the help, it no longer feels like I’ve helped them. It becomes a transaction, and all the joy I would get from improving that person’s situation is GONE.

And it’s not because the person feels less helped, or values the assistance any less. In fact, most people find joy themselves in paying for someone’s time when that person really helped them. But for my stupid brain, if it becomes a transaction, the entire mental situation changes. No longer am I helping them, rather it feels like I’m taking advantage of the person because I have a skill they themselves don’t have.

I think that’s part of the reason I love teaching so much. I’d rather everyone be able to help themselves and others than to have the knowledge and ability myself, and then take money for doing the thing. It’s really illogical on my part, and intellectually I *know* it’s illogical, but that doesn’t change how it works in my head.

So back to creation. I love creating things that bring people joy. Be it my comic, or my training, or my writing… heck even this journal entry might entertain someone in a way that makes their day a bit better because, “at least I’m not as messed up as that guy!”

I love creating so much that if I were paid hourly for “creating whatever”, so I could just make stuff all day, there might be concerns over unfair labor practices I’d be committing on myself. BUT, I don’t create that much. And it’s for a really messed up reason:

It doesn’t bring in money.

See, providing for my family is my utmost concern. Maybe that’s unhealthy, but I certainly don’t apologize for it. And due to reasons both good and bad, in order to pay for the things required to live comfortably, I need to make a significant amount of money. The best way I know to make money is currently to work for a company that pays me well for creating IT training content for them. It’s really hard work, and since I don’t know the subject matter beforehand, it means it’s mentally exhausting learning and then immediately teaching from the standpoint of an expert.

That job happens to be quite flexible when it comes to what hours I work though. Awesome, right? Well… The thing is, the more work I do, the more money I can make. So any time I’m doing something NOT directly related to working my DayJob, I have incredible guilt because I’m not making money. So the things I do that bring me joy do NOT bring me joy, because I’m not making any money while I do them. And the screwed up thing is, making money from the things I love to do is not what makes me love them, AND making money from the things I love often (not always) ruins the whole thing for me anyway.

So what’s a weirdo to do?

Well, I have done many things over the years. Recent years have seen me doing things like opening the ability for Patreon support. Also YouTube subscriptions. And KoFi memberships. And recently, Twitch subscriptions. And I made a book of my comic in order to sell a book for money.

Those types of money-making endeavors somehow “hack” my brain a bit, and allow me to experience the joy of creating without it being ruined by selling it. I think it only works because the money isn’t tied to the product, but rather to supporting me as a person. Since the individual “things” aren’t being sold (the comics in the book are all available for free online), the financial compensation is sorta separated from the products of my passions.

The thing is, it doesn’t really feel sustainable. My hope before I had to go back to creating content as my DayJob was that I could maybe grow my YouTube channel enough that I’d get a living wage from ad revenue on YouTube, and I could spend all day every day doing what I love without ruining it by attaching it to money. I haven’t uploaded a single video to YouTube in close to a year, and I still make about $300/mo from ad revenue. So if I put in another couple years, I really might be able to grow to a point that it could become a career.

But also, I don’t want YouTube to be my career… I would love for YouTube (or Patreon, or Twitch, or book sales) to provide me with a steady income that would allow me to separate the things I create from how I pay my mortgage. And if my YouTube channel grew enough that I could “create” full time, would I have the same unhealthy connection with YouTube training that I have with my DayJob now, and always feel guilty if I weren’t making more content for the thing that makes the money?

I think this is why creative folks usually do better when in a group. I don’t think my broken relationship with money is unique to me. (Well, maybe my specific brand of neuroticism is unique, but, “starving artist” is a trope for a reason)

I think the concept that Patreon was built from is fascinating. Traditionally, a patron would be a rich person who paid an artist to do art. I think my brain would require some sort of guaranteed contract in order to really go “all in” on being a creator. But I very often wonder what my life and my day to day activities would look like if I didn’t have to worry about making money. Would I be free to create content and joy? Or would I worry about something else and never really get to squeeze the juice out of life?

Lots of people want to win the lottery so they can retire and do nothing. I’d like to win a small lottery, like a few million dollars, and put the winnings into an index fund. Every month or year (I don’t know how such things work), I could take out a decent salary for myself, confident that salary would be self-sustaining so I could spend all day working. All. Day. Long.

Sometimes that work would be making training videos. Sometimes it would be doing IT work for local businesses in town. Sometimes it would be fishing while I think about stuff. Sometimes it would be writing a book.

And maybe those things would make a ton of money. But they wouldn’t have to. And I think I’d enjoy that work more than anything I’ve ever done. So if you know anyone with a few extra million dollars who wants to run a social experiment with a weird creative guy who has an unhealthy relationship with money, just let me know. 🙂

Why Some Things Stick

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It annoys me how prevalent ADHD is in every aspect of my psyche. Really. I’d like to have some qualities and faults which don’t fall directly in line with how ADHD brains work. I used to think I was a special, albeit broken, snowflake. (Not in the political sense, I just mean in the special and unique sense) But nope, even thinking you’re different than everyone else is a symptom of ADHD. If I think about the things that make me uniquely me, it’s ADHD every single time. It seems like the only uncommon thing about me is that ADHD medicine doesn’t work super well to relieve my symptoms. But everything else?

Procrastination: ADHD
Self loathing: ADHD
Unreliable: ADHD
SUPER reliable in an emergency: ADHD
Above average pattern recognition: ADHD
Superb problem-solving skills: ADHD
Self-deprecating humor: ADHD
Moody: ADHD
Hyperfocus: ADHD
Outside the box thinking: ADHD
Extreme good looks: ADHD
Sarcasm about physical appearance: ADHD

OK, the last couple were jokes. But even that, being funny — a pretty common ADHDer trait. One of the biggest trends with folks who have ADHD is that they only stick with a subject while it’s interesting. Once it gets boring, they can’t (like, actually can’t) focus on it. This is why most folks with ADHD will burn through hobbies and jobs like crazy. I’m no exception here either. But there are a few long-standing passions in my life, and I’ve been trying to figure out why they exist.

Off the top of my head, there are things like Linux, bird feeders/cameras, technology in general, writing, and my wife/family. I know, family doesn’t seem like it qualifies as a “hobby”, but folks with ADHD often have real struggles with romantic relationships. They fall deeply in love (extreme emotions: Another ADHD thing), but once the novelty of the relationship wears off, they lose interest. That hasn’t happened to me. Plus the other things listed have been a sort of staple in my life while so many other hobbies and interests have come and gone. And I’ve been trying to figure out why.

Perhaps it’s because those things are all fairly dynamic and ever changing. Linux is really just a vehicle for all the various software-related hobbies I’ve had over the years. I’ve upgraded and changed the bird feeder cameras dozens of times over the years. Technology is constantly changing. And writing is different every time. Family though? Relationships aren’t easy by any means, but they’re not exactly brand new every day. That “success” doesn’t really fit the same mold as the others.

Maybe it’s not the constant change at all. Maybe it’s the challenge. Relationships are certainly challenging. Attracting birds and getting good video of them is difficult. Writing well is hard. But Linux and technology? I don’t mean to sound arrogant, but no, they’re not difficult or challenging anymore. Yet I still remain interested.

I’d like to have a great answer to finish off this post. Some kernel of wisdom, which peels back the mysteries of the universe just a bit. Heck, even a hint so I might leverage some sort of brain hack to stay excited about the things I SHOULD be focusing on. But no. I have no idea.

I’ve lost interest in this blog post. See you later.

(hehehehe, ok, that was just my attempt at a clever closing)

Season 49

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It’s funny that we think of, “middle age” as somewhere around 50. Assuming a 100 year lifespan is pretty darn optimistic. Don’t get me wrong, I’d be happy to experience mid-life around 65 or so. But unless we make some major medical/robotic advances in the next 30-40 years, it’s likely my mid-life is in the rear view mirror. (And not that, “objects are closer than they appear” one either…)

Today is my 49th birthday. Being born in 1975 makes the birthday math pretty easy, especially when thinking about quarter centuries. While I’m not having some sort of existential crisis about approaching 50, I have to admit it’s a bit unsettling to run out of 40s! Nevertheless, today starts Season 49 (or Series 49 if you’re in the UK). I want to make this a year where I squeeze the joy out of each day. I don’t want to just, “get through” the weekdays in order to stress about Monday on the weekends. If there’s anything getting older has taught me, it’s that we need to live life as it happens. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed, and things will NEVER slow down.

I couldn’t sleep last night. That’s not uncommon, unfortunately. Once my brain starts thinking about something, it figures, “hey, nothing is interrupting me — we can get some serious thinking time in! Yay! Think all night!” UGH.

Personally, I think my brain is a bit of a douchebag, but I’m stuck with it. (Unless we figure out that robot thing in the first paragraph…) My thought was that if I really wanted to make sure to live every day to the fullest, I should document it. Vlogs aren’t cool anymore, but if I just wanted to record stuff for myself, it wouldn’t have to be popular or profitable.

Seriously, I thought about it ALL NIGHT. It wasn’t the first time I’d considered such a thing either. Just ask me who owns the season49.com domain… lol. The problem is, I’m not sure *recording* every day is conducive to actually squeezing the juice out of every day. It sounds fun today, but will episode 149 be a frustrating burden not even halfway through the season? I did the 90DaysOfMayhem challenge, and did really enjoy it — but the self-made rules were I just had to upload some sort of video every day. If I’m documenting my entire day into a Vlog, that sounds like a lot of hours of forced editing.

So maybe instead of a daily Vlog, I commit to a daily Blog. I do want to write more often, and my Patreon supporters listed blogging as my most valued creative endeavor. Heck, maybe Season 49 can just be a commitment to reflect on each and every day in some manner. Maybe a blog post. Maybe a Vlog entry. Maybe a TikTok if some wisdom is bestowed upon me in the supermarket. What do you think, noble reader? Does, “reflect on the day, every day, in some way” fill the role of trying to squeeze the joy out of life? I realize it’s totally my call, but as a full night of thinking demonstrates; deciding is not my strong suit.

But look! If that’s my plan (which it sorta feels like it might be), I’ve already finished Episode 1. And you just watched it. Whatdoyathink?

An Idea I Had About a Thing…

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I recently bought a few, “morning meditation” type books. I’m not really someone who actually goes through the process of proper meditation, but I wanted a short snippet that I could read and reflect on first thing in the morning. These types of things tend to be uplifting, encouraging, and generally just positive vibes all the way down.

I kinda need that.

So anyway, I’ve been reading the MorningThing and enjoying it. But I usually forget about it halfway through my first sip of coffee. (I generally read the daily medication thingy while my coffee is brewing) So I’ve been trying to think of a way to reflect on the morning GoodVibes thing throughout the day. I thought maybe the process of recording myself throughout the day as I ponder the MorningThing would be a way to keep myself accountable.

Since it would be a, “throughout my normal day” sort of thing, the videos would just be me whipping out my phone and recording on the fly. Then, at the end of the day I could combine the videos into a sort of mashup of my daily ponderings. I could write up something on a blog post, and embed the video into the blogpost for folks who want to see me squeeze the juice out of the MorningThing.

I don’t think I could do it every single day, at least not successfully. But probably once a week, especially if in the morning the MorningThing seems particularly thought provoking. Anyway, that was the idea I had during a bout of insomnia last week. It stuck with me, so this is the next step in making it happen.

What do you think?

RedHat: Rocky Times with its Alma Mater

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Intellectually, I understand the importance of Open Source licenses. The nuances of GPLv2 and GPLv3 can change the entire way a piece of software is used, developed, and shared.

But I don’t really care all that much.

Sure, I lose a lot of “cred” when I dismiss licensing so offhandedly. How can I call myself an Open Source evangelist, or even an enthusiast, if I don’t have thoughts on licensing? Honestly? It’s because I’m not passionate about Open Source Software due to its legal allowances and limitations. Heck, I didn’t even build my career around Linux because of software at all. I’m an Open Source advocate because of people. Period. End of sentence.

Does that make me anti capitalism? Against monetization? A GNU/Linux zealot? Nope. But it also doesn’t me pro-capitalism, entrepreneurial, or a Microsoft fanboi. It basically means I don’t care a whole lot about the non-people-parts of the entire movement, or community, or vertical marketplace. I don’t even really know what a vertical marketplace is, or if I made that up. I love Open Source because it changed my life, and never asked anything in return. And the “it” that changed my life, really means people.

In 1999, when I had my car accident, the aftermath was pretty grim. I’ve told the story countless times, but the headline version is, “Woman in 5th month of pregnancy forced to bus tables in order to support family of 3 as main breadwinner battles against head injury, no longer able to leave the house, much less work.”

When I tell the story, whether on a podcast, to a news reporter, or in the posts on this very blog, I jokingly say that I learned Linux because it was all I could afford. But if I wanted to learn other products, I could have found a way to “get” those software packages. And while I wish I could say it was my pristine moral standards that made me settle on Linux instead of pirating commercial products — that would be a lie. It was because Linux, and by extension Open Source Software, was purposefully designed to give me everything I might need, for free. And then when I needed help, provide that help whether I could afford to pay for it or not.

I could have pirated Microsoft Windows Server, but I couldn’t call Microsoft to ask questions about setting up an Active Directory! Yet, if I wanted to know how to make two Linux machines share user data, I could reach out to folks for help on NIS/ypserv/ypbind, and if I said I was just trying to figure it out, they’d be MORE excited to help me. And perhaps it is the licensing that created that sort of community, but legalese doesn’t garner my gratitude and respect. Kindness does. Kind people do. And that’s why for the past several decades, I’ve built my career around Open Source Software.

RedHat recently made news by deftly tiptoeing through the GPL (I don’t even know or care what version), and legally restricting people from taking their source code and compiling clones of their commercial, flagship version of Linux. Their rationale is that groups like Rocky Linux and Alma Linux were simply taking RedHat’s hard work, repackaging it, and giving it away free. Which… is true. For many Linux users, that’s simply what Open Source meant. RedHat took the work of others and created their commercial product, but since they used other people’s work, they had to release their work as well. In fact, RedHat has been one of the few companies to make incredible amounts of money selling a product that companies could get for free. Their support, both in making the distro and in integrating after the fact meant they could add value beyond their code itself.

But it seems they weren’t making the amount of money they thought they should be making, and so using legally-allowable restrictions, have stopped the proliferation of clones. Some giants in the community think they’ve violated at the very least the spirit of Open Source. Others (several of whom I respect) have taken a more corporate-sided stance on the issue.

Me? It just makes me sad. And before anyone responds with, “If it weren’t for corporate money, Linux and the Open Source community wouldn’t even exist!” — I’m not sad about RedHat protecting their financial interests. I’m sad because the kindness of Open Source has been tossed out in order to… make it successful? Have Rocky and/or Alma been taking advantage of RedHat? I have no idea. Really. But it was the community of people working together in order to make sure everyone could play that takes a hit.

I can already hear the response that RedHat allows people to use their commercial product for up to 16 servers without paying for a license! And yep, that’s true. But the joy of Open Source used to be not worrying about licenses in order to participate in the global, shared experience of working together. I didn’t fall in love with Shareware, I fell in love with freedom.

Our community has been built around people contributing in whatever ways they can, and at times, by only participating. I’ve never contributed code to any project, but I’ve written and edited for Linux Journal. I’ve never done a pull request on a kernel module, but I have spent the bulk of my career teaching people how to use Open Source to make the world a better place, one person at a time.

My contributions to Open Source, and the world in general, doesn’t have a clear business plan. While I’ve been paid for many of the things I’ve taught and created, monetization has never been the reason. If making money motivated me more, perhaps I’d have more of it, and my voice would be heard in more places. But a rationale isn’t the same as a motivation. My YouTube channel is monetized, and that’s my rationale for investing the time into making videos to help people. But I assure you, I haven’t spent every spare moment this past two years making videos so I could bring in $150/month in YouTube ad revenue. That revenue is nice, but it’s not what keeps me excited. When someone leaves a comment that they finally understand octal notation and sticky bits after watching my video — that is what motivates me.

It’s the people. It always has been.

So am I on RedHat’s side? Am I on Rocky Linux’s side? Not really. I’m on the side of working together to make the world a better place. I’m on the side of kindness for no reason other than a kind world is a world I want to be part of. Maybe RedHat’s contributions have made my particular livelihood possible. Maybe not. But we have different motivations, and gauge success by different metrics. That’s OK. But it still makes me sad.

If You Can’t Do Something Perfect…

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Just don’t do anything at all? Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not a healthy motto to live by, but it sure does resonate with me. I’ve always struggled with perfectionism, and it sorta ambushed me this week. It’s been a while since I’ve been paralyzed by it. That’s mostly because my creative efforts of late have all been on my own dime, burning my own time.

But that changed this past week.

After literally months of stalling, last week I opened a Patreon page. Within moments, I had multiple supporters, or “Patrons”, and it was both humbling and flattering at the same time. People actually supporting me with their money smacks a little different than people being supportive in general. It’s a sacrifice real human beings are making in order to facilitate my creative endeavors.

So, of course the things I create need to be absolutely perfect. Because they deserve that, don’t they? They’re PAYING for me to create things both for them, and for others. With that additional income, it means I can invest more time into making even better content. And you see where this is going, right?

It’s currently Thursday. I’ve created exactly zero things this week. And yes, it’s been a particularly challenging week at DayJob, which required writing new code and inventing solutions to very specific problems with our very unique set of needs. So I could soothe my ego by claiming it’s been a super busy week, which of course is why I haven’t been able to let my creative juices flow.

But that would be at most partially true.

Like I said earlier, my perfectionism sorta ambushed me. I’d forgotten how crippling it can be to feel the pressure of expectation. It was a problem when I made training videos commercially, and apparently it’s a problem when I’m being supported by individual patrons too. The good news is I recognize it this time. It took years of poor performance and constant anxiety before I realized what was wrong with me in the past.

So what I’m say is, please don’t stop supporting me, those incredible people who do so financially and verbally/commentarily. I will get back on track in short order, and produce the same inconsistent mediocrity you’ve come to expect from me. (That self-deprecation? Yep, it’s still a feature as well, lol) I’m continually amazed and humbled by people desiring the same sorts of things I do. Luckily for me, those things include empathy and patience. I’ve really picked the best group of folks with which to bond.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to publish this before I decide it’s not quite good enough to share…

Shame

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Before I start, it’s important to know that I’m not writing this to convince anyone to send money. We’ll be OK, truly. I’m writing this because much like depression, shame withers in the light. I don’t want the specter of “what if someone finds out” to live in my brain, rent free. And perhaps hearing our misfortune will help someone else avoid a similar one.

In order to understand how someone could have $12,518.42 stolen from them without noticing, it’s important to explain our situation over the past 18 months or so. Because on the surface, the notion of losing that much money and not noticing seems like wealth and privilege at an incomprehensible level. If exposing financial information makes you uncomfortable, you might want to click away, because I’ll be using some real numbers.

In the middle of the pandemic, my job changed. Part of that change included no longer receiving employer-sponsored healthcare. I receive a generous stipend, but it doesn’t come close to covering a solo plan. So we added some out of pocket money to the stipend, and started paying for COBRA. (That allows us to keep the healthcare from my last job, paying the full premium plus administrative fees for up to 18 months)

We also have adult children in their early 20s. They were underemployed thanks to the pandemic, and we have been helping them make ends meet. Plus, Donna’s part-time teaching position was even more part time this past school year. Add to that a massive repair bill on my aging pickup truck, existing debt from our barn experience — and the stage is set for a pretty rough financial gauntlet.

With our new expenses and decreased income, it was clear that we would be making less than we spend every month. We had about $17,000 in the bank, and about $20,000 of credit available across our 5 credit cards. Knowing that would only keep us afloat temporarily, we started doing everything we could to add income while decreasing expenses. Sadly, most of our expenses are fixed, and while we could have canceled Netflix, that small savings in the middle of a pandemic didn’t seem worth it. Anyway, we were going deeper into debt every month, but surviving.

Donna took as many sub positions as she could on the days she wasn’t teaching. I worked my DayJob as a sysadmin, and then started cartooning, writing, and creating training videos for YouTube. While my efforts might smack a bit of mid-life crisis, the bulk of my previous career was making training videos, and I’d been a professional writer for years at Linux Journal. The only oddball item was my daily comic, but since I found the process relaxing, it was almost a daily therapy session for me.

So for the past year plus, we’ve been using credit cards for everything possible, and paying the minimum balance due, with additional payments as more money came in. We knew our credit card debt would rise, and our bank account would dwindle, but the hope was to slow the bleeding until I started to bring in some serious revenue from my after work endeavors. It would certainly take a while, but the clock we were trying to beat was a combination of “not running out of money and credit” plus “we have 18 months of COBRA”.

I’d like to say we had a clearer plan, or even a more succinct goal. Unfortunately, we just had stress, chaos, and a faint hope that “something” would give. Perhaps I’d get a job offer that included benefits. Perhaps the school where Donna worked would offer a medical plan. Maybe my YouTube channel would take off, or my comic would go viral. But what it actually meant was many, many credit card charges, and many, many payments to credit cards coming out of our shrinking checking account.

And that’s how it happened.

Back in September of 2021, lost in our myriad of credit card payments, a new credit card payment posted. “Credit One Bank” took an ACH payment for $182.95 out of our account. That’s about the size of other credit card payments that constantly come out of our account, and at first glace I assumed it was our Meijer credit card, which is a branded card from one of the countless credit companies.

As the months went on, there were more and more payments from “Credit One Bank”, all varying from the $100-$300 range, which again, matched our other credit card payments surprisingly close. Looking back, I should have seen it. Of COURSE I should have seen it. There were 4 days in a row where $182.75 was taken out. And while I don’t remember seeing those payments, I probably saw them and assumed I was looking at the same payment. But I didn’t notice.

See, our account balances were changing in just the way we expected them to change. Our credit card debt was rising, and our bank account was shrinking. That’s not ideal, but it wasn’t unexpected. And so we weren’t suspicious that something was wrong. We saw that our money was going away faster than we hoped, and so we focused harder on making more money, not picking apart our bank statements. Heck, we probably subconsciously avoided looking at our bank statements, because we knew it would only add stress to an almost unbearably stressful situation!

And then this month, August 2022, 11 months after that first “Credit One Bank” payment snuck into our life, we ran out of money. Our mortgage payment bounced because its auto-withdrawal happened a couple days before my paycheck was deposited. I had already moved the posting date, because I saw the writing on the wall, but even that only kicked the can down the road a month. Our checking account was in the red, we’d gotten multiple overdraft fees applied on top (because other smaller payments were trying to clear after the account went negative). And only a couple of our credit cards had credit available at all.

It’s embarrassing. And it sucks. But things like Twitter verification, a Wikipedia page, and a well-known-in-certain-circles name does not always equal the underlying financial success it hints at.

So anyway, my paycheck posted, and our account was limping along in the black again. Since our credit was about dried up, we’d been strategically deciding what to pay and when to pay it. So our credit card payments, even the minimum amount due, had to be timed to our paychecks. And that brings us to this week. Yesterday, in fact. My paycheck wasn’t due to post until today (the 18th), and I was watching our account balance like a hawk, making sure nothing tried to clear before my paycheck was in there. And wouldn’t you know it, Credit One Bank was posting a payment for $168.64.

I KNEW I hadn’t made a payment, because after the mortgage fiasco, our balance was too low for that. And so when I logged in to all our various credit card accounts, trying to figure out why one of them automatically made a payment, I couldn’t find a payment for that amount. Anywhere.

And of course then I started looking at our account history, and quickly realized what I should have realized 11 months ago. Someone was making a credit card payment with our account, but it wasn’t us. Or at least, it wasn’t only us. As I searched the transaction history, I found that over the past 11 months, there have been 54 payments taken out. The dates and amounts are fairly random, but vary from $100-$350 or so. And added together, they equal $12,518.42. It turns out that initial $17,000 we had in our account wasn’t dwindling as quickly as we thought, or at least we weren’t “dwindling” it.

I spent most of yesterday talking to the bank, and to the police. Today I have to drive back to the bank (and hour drive, one way, ugh) to finish closing our compromised account and set up a new one so we can continue making our mortgage payments, car payment, and credit card payments. And now, I need to fight to get money back from “Credit One Bank”, even though in my communications with them yesterday have proven to be anything but helpful.

Our bank, Straits Area Federal Credit Union, has shifted a bit. At first, they told me all they could do was stop further withdrawals by charging me a $25 stop payment fee. But after talking to the police officer as I filed a report, he encouraged me to go physically to the main office, and talk to someone a bit higher up the food chain. I’m glad I did, because now they’re going to reimburse me for the previous 60 days, and for some reason the first 60 days of fraudulent charges. Assuming that happens (I’m signing paperwork today), it will put $4,595 back into my new account. The remaining $7,923.37 will likely never get recovered. But I will be sending all the information to “Credit One Bank”, and hoping they do the right thing. Regardless of the outcome, it will take months before I know anything.

I’m not gonna lie, while that $4,595 will be incredibly helpful in the short term, we’re clearly still teetering on the edge of disaster. Thankfully, there’s a bit of good news in this bleak story.

When summer started, Donna clearly couldn’t get anymore subbing jobs, so she applied for a part time position at one of our favorite places on earth. McLean & Eakin Booksellers. She got the job, and I’ll be honest, I’ve never seen her love what she does more than when she’s working at the bookstore. The owners must recognize how much she was made for the job, and without prompting, called Donna in to offer her a full time, year round position. And believe it or not, this small town, independent bookstore provides health insurance for their full time employees.

Health. Care. Insurance.

Our COBRA eligibility runs out in November, and we did not have a plan for what we were going to do after that. The middling insurance plan I was quoted to buy on our own was over $30,000/yr, and that was without dental or optical. Donna getting a job that provided healthcare was unexpected, and the most amazing news we’d gotten in a very long time. I don’t even know what the plan will look like, but it honestly doesn’t matter, because whatever the benefits include will be more than that nothing we could afford once November hits.

I cried like a blubbering idiot. And that, I’m not ashamed of.

Look, we’re far from being financially stable. My napkin math shows that we have about $65,000 in credit card debt, one mortgage with $60,000 remaining, another with $100,000 remaining, and a car loan with $13,000 still outstanding. My DayJob isn’t in immediate jeopardy, but I maintain datacenters for servers that operate in the cryptocurrency world, so longevity and stability are not guaranteed. But in spite of this current financial setback with Credit One Bank, we actually have a bit more hope than we’ve had in a while.

Donna will be working full time, starting some time before November. My YouTube channel was recently monetized, and while it’s only bringing it $100 or so a month, it’s a start. I’ve been working with an editor about a potential book deal, and while my comic hasn’t taken off — I still really enjoy it, and perhaps someday others will enjoy it too. I’ve even built up enough content on YouTube, that I don’t feel bad starting a Patreon page for people who want to support my creative endeavors. (It’s not live yet, but once I get the patron benefits sorted this week, it might be one more trickle of income)

So yeah. It’s been a rough month. But it’s also been a good month. We really will be OK, and my intent is certainly not to make anyone worry about us. We didn’t fall for a scam, and yet we ended up losing the bulk of our “cushion” in arguably the worst time ever. My hope is that everyone looks a bit closer at their checking account after reading this, and if you do end up a victim of bank fraud — know that someone else’s evil is not a character flaw of yours. Be kind, maybe especially to yourself. It’s easy to be like Blue, and since I draw him, I know it first hand.

How THIS Keeps Happening

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It occurred to me today that I’m not really sure if the things I publish are the things I allow to get out of my think-meat, or if they’re things I can’t keep inside it. It probably doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things, but my brain (jerk that it is) thinks a lot. A LOT.

Now, I’ve always assumed that I objectively look at all the thinky thinks, and then determine, “ah yes, this kernel of insight is worthy of the masses.” But, yeah, no. I’m rarely, if ever, proud of the stuff I write. I might be proud of myself for sharing things, but never do I think, “This. This is what people need to hear.” Other people say things much better than I do, and they’re almost always more qualified to say things betterer than me. (Apart from a very, VERY narrow area of expertise. I’m pretty confident with my Kool-Aid making skillz…)

So what I write, like this for instance, is almost certainly not because I think it will make the world a better place. And I know I don’t do it for praise, because for my spheroid-jiggly-ponder-box, praise is a double-edged sword.

(Short explanation: “Shawn, that was incredible” makes me very much assume that whatever I just created is now the low bar for all future creations, and if it really WAS good, then I might as well not bother, because I’ll never create something that good again, and if I make something worse, I’ll let down everyone.)

I guess that means whatever I end up publishing is just think-juice I couldn’t quite keep inside. I suppose writing is my emotional outlet. But even that doesn’t explain why I click “Publish”, because there are plenty of drafts here on my bloggity-blog that will never see the light of day. So it’s more than just a need to write, because writing doesn’t need publishing to be an outlet for emotion. (See also: Diaries. But no, I don’t have a diary. OMG, is *this* my diary?) So why do I publish anything, ever?

Maybe narcissism? Maybe I seek the self-destructive praise of others? Maybe I hope that one person will read my escaped thoughts and realize they’re not alone in this weird, judgmental world? I honestly don’t know. But for some reason, I often feel compelled to share my thoughts, even when they’re weird, or personal, or scary, or all of the above. Apparently creating and sharing are very different endeavors. A lot of what I create isn’t shared — but a surprisingly large percentage of it is.

I was talking to a friend today about the “highlight reel” aspect of most social media. Many, or maybe most folks share the best and happiest parts of their day, or they make sure the part of their persona that lives “in frame” is squeaky clean and perfect. There’s the other side of that coin, when people post about how bad things are, looking for either help, or pity, or even just attention. But the mundane seldom makes it on Instagram. Or blog posts. Yet, here we are.

SO my fellow creators, I have two questions:
1) Why do you create?
2) How do you decide what to share?

Just Do the Next Thing

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I often think about Charlie Brill and Mitzi McCall. If you aren’t familiar with the married comedy duo, it’s not surprising. They were the act who followed the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show back in 1964. How could you possibly follow that?!? Thankfully, Justin Bieber didn’t recently make Linux training videos that I have to follow. But the thing is, this past week has been a surprisingly good week with regard to the things I’m creating being appreciated by other humans. (And maybe robots, I’m ok with that. Meep morp, y’all. How ’bout those electrons, am I right?)

The problem is, one success feels like setting the bar for the next thing. And a big success makes for a really high bar.

After this blog was shared by a super popular friend of mine on Twitter (the same friend who often shares my comic… he’s basically my ex-naval fairy godmother), and then one of my youtube videos was showcased in a Hackaday article by another friend, the traffic and popularity of my stuff has stepped up a bit. No, I’m not an influencer, or a YouTube celebrity, or parking a Tesla in my garage… (or, you know, having a garage) — but I crossed the monetization threshold on YouTube (the process of which apparently takes about a month, and then I could make DOZENS of cents a day!) I was sent a tech product to review without me asking or buying it, and there are actual conversations happening in the comment sections of my stuff.

OMG, I’m Too Good Looking, and My Wallet is Too Fat…

I know, I know. Complaining about a modicum of success is pretty douchey. I mean, isn’t being successful exactly what I’m intending to do with all this writing and newslettering and podcasting and videoing and cartooning and… everything? And Shawn, if you can’t handle a video getting 1000 views without feeling overwhelmed, you’d better hope you never actually make it big.

And yeah, I get all that. And I do hope the success continues. Heck, my lofty aspirations include the need and ability to actually hire people to join me in my endeavors. The problem I’m mulling over now is that I find it difficult to do the next thing when the last thing was deemed “worthy and good” by the masses. I think as humans (or robots, still love you guys) we tend to look at a very narrow slice of time. Heck, we practice “living in the present” as a way to stay healthy in mind and body. But the road to success is long. For some of us, very long. And while intellectually I understand a video that gets 10,000 views isn’t 100 times better than a video that gets 100 views, it sure feels that way. Let me get very specific. I’ll use my YouTube channel as the example, because this week has some prime examples of what I’m talking about.

The Hackaday Debacle of Awesomeness

One of the many things I do, is to occasionally co-host on FLOSS Weekly over at TWiT.tv. One of the OTHER occasional co-hosts is Jonathan Bennett. We don’t know each other in meat-space, but I consider him a friend, and if we were at a tech conference, we’d totally hang out and be nerdy. Anyway, he’s a writer at Hackaday.com — and last week he included my SSH Tunnels video in an article he wrote. It sent a flood of users to my tiny YouTube channel, and quickly elevated that video to like 7,000 views in the first week. Most of my videos get about 100 views in that timeframe. It also brought in lots of new eyeballs, who subscribed to my channel, which increased the views on my other videos, and there was a snowball effect that gave my tiny channel a boost.

Again, my channel is small. We’re not talking fame and fortune, we’re talking a cool growth acceleration. Like I mentioned above, it even bumped me over the monetization threshold, so that approval process started.

But HERE is the crux of the situation. My brain tells me that SSH Tunnelling video must have been the cream of my video crop. THAT VIDEO is what will breed more success. Whatever I did there is what I need to do every time, and improve on. Because for some reason, my brain says, “This is a video of a creator that has 3,000 subscribers. If you want to increase to 5,000 subscribers, you clearly need a video that’s about twice as good.”

Now I KNOW that’s not how it actually works. Heck, even my observation of older videos getting more views proves that it’s not a single video that raises the bar of adequacy. But as I often point out, brains are not logical. They’re emotional, fickle, jiggly think-meats which assume the worst and never appreciate the best. And so, I didn’t make another video that whole week. The week where I was getting more and more people interested in my channel and my content. I was crippled with fear that I’d release a video that wasn’t better than the SSH Tunnel video. And people would know that the apparent “star quality content” was a fluke.

Brains suck. (I actually accidentally typed “Brians suck”, and autocorrect was just going to let me insult innocent Brians everywhere. C’mon robots, I thought we were friends?!?)

The week went by, and the popularity boom waned. I still garnered quite a few new subscribers, which was incredible, but instead of riding that incoming wave, I floundered and released no new content. On Friday, I felt so terrible about not releasing anything, that I threw together a video on Linux Certifications, and posted it. I figured it would flop, but at least I was trying. (That video is honestly doing really well, which is weird, because it hasn’t been boosted by anything external. So who knows.)

So What Have You Learned, Shawn?

Honestly? I have no idea. Here’s the thing though — it’s pretty common with anyone who gets a bump of success, that they struggle with their next endeavor. One-hit wonders, authors who write a successful book, middle-aged men who get a compliment on how their hair looks… we all flounder with how to meet or exceed whatever we did that was deemed “good”.

The only advice I really have is that maybe we shouldn’t try to outdo ourselves. Just like it’s unhealthy to compare our success to other people, comparing ourselves to the most successful thing we’ve done is just silly. I’m just as good as that guy who made the SSH Tunnel video, because I’m that guy. I wasn’t trying to specifically make a stand-out creation, I was just doing what I love. Greatness isn’t a thing we do, it’s the way we do the things we do. Trying hard to be a more perfect self seems silly. We’re already exactly ourselves.

So just do the next thing. And in the words of Paul McCartney, Let it Be.

Doing One Thing Well, or Not

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When I started this “be a professional creator full time” adventure at the start of 2022, I got lots of advice. And as a quick recap for those who don’t know about my “Big Year” (sans birds), which is honestly most of you, because I didn’t really shout about it from the mountain tops, here’s the deal:

For the past decade plus, I’ve been a trainer for CBT Nuggets. Many of my videos are still in their catalog, and most people would have no idea I’m not working there anymore. I’m currently a full time sysadmin managing a bunch of Linux systems in various datacenters around the western US. But a couple things made me want to do more than just my DayJob.

  • The pandemic proved that jobs are not a sure thing. So many folks were laid off, or lost their jobs entirely, it was a scary wakeup call. A single income stream, even a really good stream, is scary if it might disappear.
  • I really really miss making training videos.
  • I really really miss writing for Linux Journal.
  • My kids are grown now, so I have a little more time on my hands.
  • My kids are grown now, and they’re currently trying to survive in an economy where surviving, much less thriving, is difficult. I want to set an example on how to diversify income.

Anyway, for those reasons and probably more, I decided to go “all in” for the entire 2022 calendar year. I still have a DayJob, so this means lots of after-work work. But again, it’s a good time in my life for that sort of thing. I’m not missing anyone’s basketball games, etc. As of right now, I’m about a third of the way through the year, and I’ve learned a few things.

There’s no Right Way, but Lots of Wrong Ways

My biggest focus thus far has been with YouTube. Yes, a 46 year old man becoming a “YouTuber” seems like a sad sort of midlife crisis, but I actually have a lot of experience making videos. And I’m a bit of a camera whore (I really like being on camera/mic). So YouTube actually makes a lot of sense. But oh my goodness are there nuances with the platform. For example:

You Must be Genuine

I think I do OK with this one. I’m not good at being fake. But… I’m a fairly weird dude, so maybe I should strive to be genuinely Ryan Reynolds… but Ryan Reynolds already does that, so y’all are stuck with me. Seriously though, I think people assume that unless they’re super charismatic, they’re too boring. That’s honestly just not the case. I’m a pretty boring guy. But when I’m passionate or excited about something, that’s when I light up. And everyone is like that about something. I tend to get excited about a LOT of things (more on that later), but the common adage to, “write what you know” works for YouTube as well. When you’re excited about something, that passion is contagious.

You Must be Unique

This is really a carryover from the previous point. If you’re genuine, you’re unique. Because no one else is like you. When I started taking YouTube seriously, it was tempting to emulate other successful people on the platform. There is some value to seeing what works and doesn’t work but it’s important to only emulate what they do, and not who they are. It’s hard to be genuine or unique if you’re trying to be just like someone else.

Those two “rules” are the most important, at least I think so. Look, I’m not a professional at YouTube, and this isn’t an article on how to be a YouTuber, but I think without following those two ideals, it’s impossible to be happy as a content creator. The next points are important to be a financially successful YouTuber though. And I like them much less. 🙂

You Must be Specific

This is the whole idea of “niching down” on a subject. The narrower you focus your content, the more people you draw in. This seems backward, because a broader array of topics would capture the interests of more people. You know, a bigger net catches more fish. But since there are an almost infinite number of YouTube channels, people tend to gravitate toward the ones where every video hits their sweet spot. If you branch out, the number of people your particular eclectic tastes match will dwindle quickly.

For example, a few of my passions are Linux, A/V equipment, Birdwatching, Renewable Energy, and Kool-Aid. Any one of those subjects might resonate with people. But if I made a YouTube channel with all those topics? Very few people would subscribe, because while they might like one or two of those subjects, they’d get annoyed by videos popping up in their feed on the less desirable topics. So, they look for a channel that has videos on their specific likes, and subscribe to multiple channels. So a person with my particular tastes would subscribe to a Linux channel, a birdwatching channel, a few A/V review channels, and an 80’s retro beverage channel.

That’s difficult for me. Because while I intellectually understand why having a specific niche is vital for YouTube success, it feels very limiting. And honestly, I get bored. Even if it’s one of my passions, if I don’t feed the other beasts in my head, they get restless. And that is sorta where the point of this whole post is going. Because the last “rule” of YouTube is…

You Must be Consistent

Oddly enough, posting videos every day isn’t 7 times better than posting once a week. Sure, you get marginally more views, but more importantly than number of videos you produce is the consistency with which you produce them. But honestly, even this is extremely flexible.

The consistency you MUST strive for is having consistently good content. Releasing regularly is also good, but not as important as having consistently good quality videos. And look, what “good quality” means is very much up for debate and evolution. For example, most people agree that having music in videos keeps people watching. But… I generally don’t, because it feels contrived for my style. I just talk into a camera, demo stuff, and try to teach complicated topics in a way that makes them easy to understand. A soundtrack seems to detract from that, so at least for now, I don’t add music.

Bonus Must: Audio

This isn’t YouTube specific, but just a tip for anyone making video. People will look past questionable video quality (to a point), but audio quality is king. If you’re going to spend money, spend it on a microphone first.

So What’s My Point?

I started the year making lots of videos in pretty short order. That was partly due to me really missing the training process. But also, I wanted to have a backlog of videos in place that new viewers could “binge” and get a taste for my style. So I worked hard to get a full “Linux Essentials” course created, making multiple videos a week, and publishing them in rapid succession. But that came at a cost.

At a mere 2 months in, I started to feel some burnout. This is not because I don’t enjoy teaching, or because videos aren’t interesting. It’s because some of those YouTube rules above are really oppressive. I understand my YouTube channel needs to be mostly Linux focused. But as a person, *I* can’t be all Linux focused all the time. So while the idea of doing one thing and doing it well is good advice, when it comes to creativity, it doesn’t always work. My inability to be disingenuous works against me here. If I’m genuinely miserable doing one thing, that one thing I’m doing will be a miserable version of the thing.

I Need More Irons, and More Fire

Toward the beginning of my “Big Year”, I tried to follow the standard advice of not having too many irons in the fire. If I do lots of things, it spreads my time and talent thin, so everything will be mediocre at best. And even reading that last sentence, it makes sense. But human meat sacks don’t always follow logical rules. I’m starting to discover that if I don’t put lots of irons in lots of fires, my one big fire will burn out. I know that is stretching the metaphor hard, but basically, I can’t focus all my energy on one thing or that thing suffers.

So as I enter the second trimester of the year, I’ve decided that I need to do more things. Even if I do those things a little less regularly, the things should end up being better in general. This rekindling of my blog is a prime example. I miss writing regularly, and the best way to scratch that itch is to write. Where better to write than in my own personal blog, where the only rules are ones I make up? I’m doing other things too, and will probably write about them here eventually, but off the top of my head:

  • Reading this blog as a “blogcast”, which is a word I made up. I think. It’s like a podcast, but is just me reading these words out loud.
  • Reviewing things on my review site.
  • Adding a video aspect to those reviews, probably on a new YouTube channel (not yet created).
  • Video blogging on a secondary YouTube channel (INSIDE The Brain of Shawn)
  • Speaking at events (virtually for now)
  • Drawing my comic
  • Learning Spanish
  • Constructing a micro datacenter at my farm
  • Trying to go outside more

My point is, rules are important, but they should always be examined and revised. Plus, the definition of success varies for the individual. I hope this “Big Year” of mine proves to be the start in a life long pursuit of passions and revenue streams. But if at the end of 2022 I discover that I really don’t like the whole “be a creator” thing? That’s valuable too. I’d rather be absolutely certain I don’t like something, than forever wonder what could have been.

Learn everything. Do what you love. And most importantly, be kind.