(And I did it on purpose)

Cross-posted on Substack.

I don’t know if you missed me, but I took about two weeks off everything social media related as soon as school ended. I had a few sales, scheduled some posts, and then kind of just let the clock run out on everything—Substack included.

I’ve talked about it over on Instagram and TikTok, and I’m going to post a long form video about it on YouTube on Sunday morning. (For something I did to get away from making content, I sure am milking it for content. But, honestly, the whole time off was just so interesting to me.) But I’m not going to write about it here. Not today, anyway.

Today, we’re going to talk about something I discovered during my time off, and that is how we should all be making more bad art on purpose.

What are we drinking these days? I’m really enjoying Dunkin cold brew with oat milk, mocha, and coconut (or mocha and raspberry). It’s my birthday tomorrow, so I might actually leave my house for my free Starbucks drink, but we’ll see. Mostly, I’m just hanging out at home, still recovering from a rough school year, and drinking my own cold brew concoctions that I’m making at home.

And yes, I did say my birthday is tomorrow. I am absolutely going to pretend I don’t share a birthday with a certain famous someone. And you bet your bottom dollar I’d be going to a protest if I weren’t still fighting a stubborn and nasty infection that’s making it difficult to do pretty much anything. But if you’re going, I am 100% standing with you in solidarity.

Looking for a protest near you? It looks like this is a good website to find one!

We should all be making bad art. Seriously. I know it sounds weird, but hear me out. If you’re a creative person in any kind of way, you probably are constantly trying to perfect your skills, right? And why wouldn’t you? We want to get better at the things we’re passionate about. And if you’re a creative person who has worked hard to perfect their skills, there’s probably someone out there who has tried to talk you into monetizing it in some way. “You should sell that!” becomes an almost constant refrain any time you show off your art in any way.

This happened to me with knitting, then with sewing. When I started knitting (as an adult; I actually learned the basics when I was a kid), I gradually grew my skills by watching tutorials and working on projects that added a new skill each time. But once I started making some really cute stuff, everyone (and I mean everyone) told me I should sell it. I started an Etsy shop, made a few things for people, realized it was really stressful making something for someone else—when you collect money, it needs to be perfect, after all—and stopped doing it.

When I started sewing, that was a bit easier. I didn’t sell the clothes I made, but I did sell scarves that were very easy to make, and every penny of profit went to a scholarship fund, which took some of the pressure off. But I burned out during COVID when I was also making masks for everyone, and now I don’t do that anymore, either. Well, except for myself.

And yes, authors ask me to design and sell these for them all the time, but I won’t do it because I know that is the fast track to burnout.

I still sew, and I still knit (I finished a project during my break, actually!), but those creative outlets are still somewhat tainted by the creative burnout I experienced with them earlier in my life.

Writing, of course, is a creative outlet. So is creating content for social media. But that’s also a job at this point, and not taking a break from both of those things is what led me to a bit of creative burnout there, too.

So, what’s a creative person to do when capitalism has ruined their creativity?

Make bad art.

Artist Stephanie Chinn has a whole thing about this. She talks about making bad art as a way to “reclaim your wild and free self.” She says:

I built Good Girls Make Bad Art specifically for those of us whose perfectionism parts are so loud that it stops us from trying. Whose opinions of others echo in our minds and make us afraid to explore deep creative worlds within us. My spaces are created for you to feel safe enough to do so, with a powerful group of women behind you. Self-expression is a human right.

And I just think that’s so awesome, because she’s right. I am one of those perfectionists. Sometimes, when the perceived failure or fear of failure gets too loud, I want to stop creating altogether. It almost feels like I shouldn’t bother trying anymore, because I’ll never be as good or as successful or as well-loved as so-and-so.

Those little voices get so loud sometimes, don’t they?

So I took a step back from the noise of social media, took a break from writing to fill the ol’ creative well, and was honestly kind of left still wanting to create something.

I glanced at my iPad that has sat, unused, on the charger for the past few months and remembered how I started learning how to use Procreate and then stopped when everything got really overwhelming.

Well, I’ve got time now, I thought. I found a couple of beginner YouTube tutorials and sat in front of the screens for a couple of days, soaking in information and trying out new things.

In the process, I was able to create some really bad art. And I do know that “really bad” is a matter of opinion, but…come on.

This is not winning any awards. And you know what? That’s okay. It was fun, and I learned a lot. And the more I tried new things, the better I got at it.

What all these attempts did was give me permission to try and fail at something that doesn’t really matter. It was soothing to play around with colors and shapes. It was something to play with while I watched baking shows, or while my kids colored next to me.

But, most of all, it was freeing to allow myself to be bad at something, where “bad” isn’t a judgement or a value statement. It’s just an objective fact. And it felt good to have that freedom, and also to use my mind in a different way.

Once I started getting the itch to go back to thinking about my writing but wasn’t quite ready to write yet, I started visualizing some scenes from my witchy book. I traced these, but I think they turned out pretty cool!

Creating bad art was freeing. It made me happy. It worked my brain in a different way. And it got me ready to go back to the thing I’m truly passionate about: writing.

So this is your sign to go make bad art. If you do, tell me about it in the comments!

I’ll be at the Appleton Public Library in Appleton, WI on June 21, 2025 at 11 AM for a Q&A with A Second Chance Romance bookstore, and I can’t wait!
Register here!
Preorder books here!

I have some exciting audiobook news for a certain cutie little baby book, but I’m not quite ready to share yet. SOON! But just know, there’ll be some fun audio coming at you this fall.

And I’ve officially passed the 60k word mark in my first witchy book! It’s moving a little slow because I’ve been sick, but it’s really coming together in an exciting way.

Kate Cole is looking for ARC readers for her upcoming book, Hot Work!

Violet Thomas has everything figured out.

Fearless and over forty, she’s been a commercial diver for almost two decades and has mastered work at dark and dangerous depths. Cutting, welding, and inspecting offshore platforms and power dams with flawless execution, there isn’t much that fazes her anymore.

Except Cooper Brooks.

Bold, bright, and larger than life, he’s full of youth and BDE (Big Diver Energy). He’s the last thing the lone female on the dive team expects to find on a derelict oil platform set for decommission.

In the high-stakes world of diving, the pressure is intense, and safety is paramount. But maybe it’s time for risk-averse Violet to take a few chances. In a place where lives and careers are so easily set adrift, will the biggest plunge she takes be one she makes with her heart?

Sign up here!

What bad art are you going to make, or have you made? Seriously, I want to hear all about it! Was it freeing for you, too? Did you have fun with it?

Happy reading,
Allie