In 2020, I landed the role of a lifetime working for beloved writer and non-fuck-giving master Mark Manson. I couldn’t have imagined a more auspicious start to my writing career—I was going to be paid to write by no less than a No. 1 New York Times bestselling author! My joyful incredulity was short-lived, however, as I soon found myself in a peculiar, distressing situation.
The position being fully remote with no office hours, I had the freedom to work anytime, anywhere, and as much—or as little—as I liked. But this unbounded flexibility came with an unexpected downside, a sort of productivity black hole. Two days into the job, I suddenly realized had no idea what I’d spent my time working on. I remembered sitting in front of my laptop and lots of typing, yet there was little to show for it. What the hell had I been doing?
Unsettled by this ignorance, I began tracking my time usage at work with Clockify. From that day on, I’d know exactly how much time I was spending on which tasks. A few weeks ago, my colleague asked me how long I typically spent working on Mark’s social media content and I was able to present her with a pie chart that broke down the time I spent on each and every social media task. There was no need for guesswork.
Time-tracking has changed the game. And it’s not only work hours I’ve been tracking.
Looking back…
Outside work tasks, I track the time I spend writing, teaching, translating subtitles, reading, clearing my inbox, sending my accountant invoices, posting my newsletter on Instagram—any task I deem worth knowing the time I spend on.
Then, at the end of each year, I look at my Clockify snapshots to see how my time usage has evolved.
And I’ve spotted a trend.
I started Val Thinks in May 2021. That year, I spent 77 hours writing 34 posts. In 2022, I spent 133 hours writing 48 posts. To achieve a 40% increase in output, I’d put in 70% more time. Last year, I wrote 47 newsletters, one fewer than the year before, yet had spent 161 hours writing, a 20% increase.
In my first year, I’d sometimes crank out a whole newsletter in an hour, an hour and a half. These days, an hour barely gets me a serviceable introduction. The first draft of my last newsletter of 2023—“This Is Vietnam”—took four hours. And the post still required two more hours across three revisions before I was happy to share it with the world. Where I took 1.5 hour to write a newsletter in 2021, I now need quadruple that time.
The reason why is laughably simple.
Back in 2021, my writing sucked. I was producing the best work of my life, but my “best” just wasn’t very good. My newsletters were meandering, my words imprecise, my ideas underdeveloped. Writing had always come effortlessly to me, and I mistook this ease for quality. So I fell into the lazy habit of sending out one unpolished draft after another, all the while congratulating myself for my incredible talent.
Two years of writing for Mark have revealed how blatantly misguided I had been. Time after time, I’d send my boss a piece of writing I thought was perfect, only to have him make it better without fail—a word removed here, a verb replaced there, a sentence halved with its meaning miraculously intact.
If you’ve been with me since the beginning, you’ll have witnessed a gradual yet drastic evolution of my writing. My words are now chosen with infinitely more care, my ideas painstakingly expounded. And all this work happens in those extra hours Clockify tells me I’ve spent writing.
…so we can move forward
For years I called myself a writer. Yet “writing” never took the top spot in my list of time-tracked activities. No wonder I felt like a fraud—I was claiming writing as my profession without putting in the time.
But no more. As of last year, writing has become the activity I spend the most time on outside my job. I’ve finally put my time where my mouth is.
The most important things in our lives should be the things we spend the most time on. Dreams must be prioritised if they’re to become reality.
This year, I have every intention to clock even more hours writing. But how many more, I initially wasn’t sure of. As one newsletter after another has demanded more and more time, I did wonder whether to reduce my frequency to every other week. Do I have the bandwidth to perfect my newsletters on a weekly basis? Should I give myself more breathing room? Will I lose readers if I drop to every other week? These questions swirled incessantly in my mind, though deep down I always knew the answer: I’ll make time.
If I’m hoping for my readers to pay for my writing, I’ve got to step up and deliver. My promise to every reader, from the outset, is to make you stop and think “every week.” And I’ll dedicate however many hours it takes to send you a beautifully-written, thought-provoking newsletter every Friday.
But alongside this determination I feel, there’s also a dilemma I face. My aspiration is for Val Thinks to eventually be my primary income, but of the 200 subscribers I have, none are paid. Paywalling some or all of my writing would, as the advice goes, be the most effective way to solicit payment, get me closer to my financial goal. Yet paywalling goes against everything I stand for.
I don’t believe in forcing people to pay to receive value.
I believe in giving value for free, with the option to pay for it.
I pay for every newsletter that I value. I don’t pay to receive the paid perks the authors offer—in fact, many don’t—but for the free posts I read. Call it hopeless optimism, but I believe there are others who share my philosophy, who’ll gladly pay for something they can get for free to show their support and appreciation.
I switched on paid subscriptions last year. And I won’t lie. It’s disheartening to be constantly reminded, each time I check my subscriber dashboard, that my readers don’t deem my newsletter worth paying for. However much my writing has improved in the last year, it’s still not enough—and this is difficult to stomach.
But I’m going to keep trying. I’ll keep writing these newsletters, making each one better than the last, in the hope that one day you’ll hit that “Upgrade to paid” button and give me real pennies for my thoughts.
And if that day never comes, I’m still already so very grateful that you make time to read my words, week after week.
Thank you.
What do you think?
Looking at where I’ve been spending my time has confirmed writing as my priority for 2024. As we begin the new year, it might be worth you taking stock of your 2023 so you know where to focus in 2024.
What did you spend the most time on last year?
Have you been doing what you say you value? What project has taken up the bulk of your time? Do you wish it were something different? Please hit “reply” or leave a comment—I read every response and I’d love to hear from you. If you want, share this with someone who might enjoy mulling these questions over.
One last time, thank you for being on this journey with me. And if you have any advice for my current paywall-or-not dilemma, I’m all ears. You can reply to this email or leave a comment using the button above. I read everything.
It’s good to be back. Until next Friday… Stay thoughtful,
Val
Photo by Kajetan Sumila on Unsplash
Love the idea of Clockify. I've never thought of using something like that - I'll give it a crack!
What did I do last year? The irony of spending too much time on social but not actually spending any productive time on it to develop my business. That's all going to change!
As you know, I've been struggling with the paywall or not to paywall dilemma, too! It's a really tough one. I'm impressed with how thoughtful you are — with your time and your craft — and I'm confident you'll figure out the right path for you.