Lessons from our first year
As I look in the rearview mirror on our first year in business, I thought it would be prudent to jot down some reflections and learnings I’ve had along the way. In truth, Dan Steiner told me I should do it, and as the resident boss, I thoroughly enjoy it when people tell me what to do. So let’s get into it.
Don’t (over) think, do.
I’m an ideas person. I have an idea for a new business at least once a month (classic enneagram 7 behavior). But the ideas usually fall out of my head as quickly as they come in. The Subtext was different. It was like a bolt of lightning. Once I had it in my head, it was too hot to hold. I needed to build it. So instead of hemming and hawing or overanalyzing and pontificating, I just started doing. I brainstormed ideas late at night, I tapped writer friends to help me come up with a name and our first categories, I created a mountain of docs, and little by little, it became something.
So maybe the moral is, if you can’t not do it, you should probably do it.
Finding time to write is hard.
Wow, what an original thought. A writer who struggles to write.
But for real, I have a junk drawer full of excuses as to why I can’t write that piece (or post or newsletter or email). Seriously, if you ever need an excuse, I can lend you one. I’m swimming in them.
Writing for writers is even harder.
Getting slightly more vulnerable now, but writing for this crowd can be intimidating. Our readers are mostly writers. And damn good ones. I can’t just get up and churn something out. It’s got to be compelling or thought-provoking or original. And I’ve found that same apprehension within The Subtext community. People want to submit, but they don’t think they have enough to say. Or don’t want the added pressure. Or criticism. I’m not sure I have a lesson here as much as a learned universal truth. Even as professional writers, it can still feel vulnerable to write in certain circles.
Maybe in year two we can all collectively get the fuck over it and write more?
People need a nudge.
Writers are used to playing behind the scenes, toiling in the shadows, keeping their heads down. Most of us don’t feel a strong urge to shout our perspective or opinions. So reaching out, telling writers that I’m excited about their work and providing a loving nudge has been my trick. It gives people permission to put themselves and their work out into the world.
At the end of the day, I try to remind people that their writing is worth reading. Because it is.
Honesty is risky.
In a perfect world, The Subtext Sound Off section would be filled with hot takes, industry gripes, and behind the scenes stories of life as a working writer. But the truth is, most people play it safe because the stakes are high. What if you say something about an employer or client that sounds negative? What if you’re perceived as a shit talker or pot-stirrer? What if I blast some brand work and leave the creatives behind it feeling shitty? With a wave of layoffs and a crowded pool of available talent, I get it. And I fall victim to it, too. But I think there’s a way to bring a bit more rawness into the fold.
So I’m going to push myself to be more open, critical, and honest. Sometimes you gotta get a little too close to the sun to feel alive.
My appetite is bigger than my stomach (or calendar).
Like I mentioned above, I got ideas. And when it comes to The Subtext, I have more than I can take. I own and run a branding studio by day, so time is not always on my side. The process of starting The Subtext has forced me to stay focused and build intentionally. To only take on what I can consistently deliver on. Which means fighting my impatience (and ADD!) and sucking up my pride. But it also means there’s room for many people at this table. My passion for The Subtext is fierce but my grip around it is loose. I’m open to new collaborators, partners, ideas and content. And truthfully, the pile of things that I don’t know how to do is stacking up around me.
So yeah, I can’t do it all by myself and I don’t want to.
Kindness is contagious (and writers are the fucking best).
OK, no duh. We *gestures wildly at the audience* already knew that. But it really can’t be understated or unmentioned. The generosity and kindness that I’ve received from writers makes me a little emo. From the encouraging LinkedIn messages, to the thoughtful submissions, to the candid conversations, it will never be lost on me how lucky I am to be in this profession and to be building a community for the people I admire and adore. And the kindness that I’ve received has made me more willing to extend and pass it on freely to others.
So yeah, forget the cool factor and just send a kind note to someone – be it a writer, an organization, an artist, or person. It will feel pure and wholesome and vulnerable. And I think we could all use a dose of that.
A final note.
I genuinely feel like there’s no better time to be a writer working in branding, whether you’re on the agency side or in-house. AI madness aside, writers are finally getting their due and being recognized as an essential part of the creative process. Design conferences are tapping more writers and strategists to speak, new categories are being added to award shows for writing and humor, and there are more director-level roles than ever before (with great salaries to match). Heck, even Brand New is adding verbal branding as a new category to their end of year roundup (I like to think we had a small hand in that). So yeah, there’s a lot to be excited about and I look forward to celebrating all the great work that’s to come.
Carissa Justice is the Founder of The Subtext and Founder, Creative Director at Nimble. She is also the founder of two children and adopter of 3 rescue dogs. She revels in chaos (or at least that's what she tells herself).
Lessons from our first year
As I look in the rearview mirror on our first year in business, I thought it would be prudent to jot down some reflections and learnings I’ve had along the way. In truth, Dan Steiner told me I should do it, and as the resident boss, I thoroughly enjoy it when people tell me what to do. So let’s get into it.
Don’t (over) think, do.
I’m an ideas person. I have an idea for a new business at least once a month (classic enneagram 7 behavior). But the ideas usually fall out of my head as quickly as they come in. The Subtext was different. It was like a bolt of lightning. Once I had it in my head, it was too hot to hold. I needed to build it. So instead of hemming and hawing or overanalyzing and pontificating, I just started doing. I brainstormed ideas late at night, I tapped writer friends to help me come up with a name and our first categories, I created a mountain of docs, and little by little, it became something.
So maybe the moral is, if you can’t not do it, you should probably do it.
Finding time to write is hard.
Wow, what an original thought. A writer who struggles to write.
But for real, I have a junk drawer full of excuses as to why I can’t write that piece (or post or newsletter or email). Seriously, if you ever need an excuse, I can lend you one. I’m swimming in them.
Writing for writers is even harder.
Getting slightly more vulnerable now, but writing for this crowd can be intimidating. Our readers are mostly writers. And damn good ones. I can’t just get up and churn something out. It’s got to be compelling or thought-provoking or original. And I’ve found that same apprehension within The Subtext community. People want to submit, but they don’t think they have enough to say. Or don’t want the added pressure. Or criticism. I’m not sure I have a lesson here as much as a learned universal truth. Even as professional writers, it can still feel vulnerable to write in certain circles.
Maybe in year two we can all collectively get the fuck over it and write more?
People need a nudge.
Writers are used to playing behind the scenes, toiling in the shadows, keeping their heads down. Most of us don’t feel a strong urge to shout our perspective or opinions. So reaching out, telling writers that I’m excited about their work and providing a loving nudge has been my trick. It gives people permission to put themselves and their work out into the world.
At the end of the day, I try to remind people that their writing is worth reading. Because it is.
Honesty is risky.
In a perfect world, The Subtext Sound Off section would be filled with hot takes, industry gripes, and behind the scenes stories of life as a working writer. But the truth is, most people play it safe because the stakes are high. What if you say something about an employer or client that sounds negative? What if you’re perceived as a shit talker or pot-stirrer? What if I blast some brand work and leave the creatives behind it feeling shitty? With a wave of layoffs and a crowded pool of available talent, I get it. And I fall victim to it, too. But I think there’s a way to bring a bit more rawness into the fold.
So I’m going to push myself to be more open, critical, and honest. Sometimes you gotta get a little too close to the sun to feel alive.
My appetite is bigger than my stomach (or calendar).
Like I mentioned above, I got ideas. And when it comes to The Subtext, I have more than I can take. I own and run a branding studio by day, so time is not always on my side. The process of starting The Subtext has forced me to stay focused and build intentionally. To only take on what I can consistently deliver on. Which means fighting my impatience (and ADD!) and sucking up my pride. But it also means there’s room for many people at this table. My passion for The Subtext is fierce but my grip around it is loose. I’m open to new collaborators, partners, ideas and content. And truthfully, the pile of things that I don’t know how to do is stacking up around me.
So yeah, I can’t do it all by myself and I don’t want to.
Kindness is contagious (and writers are the fucking best).
OK, no duh. We *gestures wildly at the audience* already knew that. But it really can’t be understated or unmentioned. The generosity and kindness that I’ve received from writers makes me a little emo. From the encouraging LinkedIn messages, to the thoughtful submissions, to the candid conversations, it will never be lost on me how lucky I am to be in this profession and to be building a community for the people I admire and adore. And the kindness that I’ve received has made me more willing to extend and pass it on freely to others.
So yeah, forget the cool factor and just send a kind note to someone – be it a writer, an organization, an artist, or person. It will feel pure and wholesome and vulnerable. And I think we could all use a dose of that.
A final note.
I genuinely feel like there’s no better time to be a writer working in branding, whether you’re on the agency side or in-house. AI madness aside, writers are finally getting their due and being recognized as an essential part of the creative process. Design conferences are tapping more writers and strategists to speak, new categories are being added to award shows for writing and humor, and there are more director-level roles than ever before (with great salaries to match). Heck, even Brand New is adding verbal branding as a new category to their end of year roundup (I like to think we had a small hand in that). So yeah, there’s a lot to be excited about and I look forward to celebrating all the great work that’s to come.
Carissa Justice is the Founder of The Subtext and Founder, Creative Director at Nimble. She is also the founder of two children and adopter of 3 rescue dogs. She revels in chaos (or at least that's what she tells herself).