I often encourage myself and other people to show our work. I enjoy letting others peek behind the scenes and share with them the messy, fresh-baked drafts. I take great pleasure in sharing the process with people—not just the final result—because it makes the work feel less like a solitary, final product and more like an evolving, shared experience.
I’ve found that sharing these raw, unpolished pieces can also be surprisingly helpful. I do this myself, for example, by breaking up longer essays for The Decoded and sharing little snippets through my Tiny Bits newsletter. It not only piques people’s interest but also provides a fun kind of anticipation for the full piece.
I’ve been lucky that a lot of the work I’ve shared in my newsletter, on this blog, or with people I trust for feedback, has led to some really valuable input. Sometimes, it’s exactly the reminder I needed. Other times, it is just a new way to see things. But most of all, much of the feedback has given me new ideas to write about.
One of the coolest things I’ve learned throughout this blogging adventure is how building a little community of like-minded folks creates this awesome feedback loop. It’s so exciting to connect with readers from all corners of the world and hear them out. I’ve had readers reach out all the way from Australia and Indonesia—literally the other side of the planet from me—to tell me what they thought about a book I recommended. That’s exciting, and I can’t fully express how much satisfaction that brings me.
I also appreciate it when I see someone pass my pieces along to others. The feedback isn’t always exactly what I expected, but it has often led me to explore new directions.
I’ve also realized that people are often just as curious about me as they are about the work. A lot of the questions I’ve received from readers aren’t just about what I wrote—they’re about how I think, what I’m like, or what inspired something. By sharing more of my process, it feels like I’ve kind of opened the door and let people into my world. I’m not just inviting them to get to know my writing, but to get to know me too—and that can sometimes spark new and cool conversations along the way.
But above all, I’ve learned that if you commit to sharing even a small piece of your process every week, you’re kind of forced to actually do the work you are supposed to be doing. At its core, writing is about sitting down, picking up your pen, and committing to the work—even when the words feel clumsy or forced.
Starting is often the hardest part, but it’s what keeps your progress moving forward. And sharing your work consistently with your audience can be a great way to hold yourself accountable. For me, it’s important to keep the creative flow going, finding a little rhythm or pattern that feels right can really help — something to keep the momentum going.
As I shared in a previous post, How I Put Together My Newsletter, my focus is on creating work I’m genuinely obsessed with and would want to read myself. Everything else comes second. That means, for me, the joy is in offering up the weird, beautiful things I notice—without the weight of needing to hit a home run every time. I really appreciate the freedom to say, ‘I’ll publish this now… let’s see who it will reach.’
Perfection can be a worthy pursuit, but the idea of ever fully arriving there feels like a bit of a myth. Whatever we create already has the right to exist, just as it is—it deserves to be seen.
In other words, there is something special about sharing the messy middle. The behind-the-scenes bits, the unsure-but-hopeful drafts—they invite connection. Sharing that in-between stage can feel vulnerable, but it’s often the most genuine part of the process. It’s not about getting it perfect; it’s about practicing the craft, staying curious, and maybe sparking something in someone else along the way.
In the creative projects that I do, I always try to see how far I can push it—poke at its edges, turn it upside down, maybe even let it wobble a bit. More than anything, I just want to get it out into the world. Where it lands, how it resonates—that part is out of my hands. But what I’ve learned is that sharing the process with others, and letting people in on the journey just makes it all feel more meaningful—and honestly, a lot more fun.