This Is Not Another Article About Making Money With 100 Articles

So here we are at Article 100.

Am I going to tell you about how I made a ton of money this way? No. That’s not its purpose.

Its purpose is to dive once more into the sea of thought and expression, where I dearly love to swim.

Ask me about what I love, what I do, what’s important to me, and one phrase will always come forward: Words are my drug of choice.

So when my friend and fellow psychic compatriot Andrew Brewer told me about Medium, he was so enthusiastic, I thought “Well, why not?” Publishing on my website got things out there, but certainly didn’t get the wide circulation I was hoping for.

So I landed here. And I started writing an article (sometimes two) a day. I did not, as many do, start out with specific goals of making hundreds (or thousands) a month, so I did not “silo” or “stack” what I wrote. I wrote my heart, I wrote my squint on the world, I wrote what I thought was useful for people.

So at 100 articles I have 140 followers. I’m grateful and delighted for every single one of you.

Are there people that have several hundreds after writing 100 articles? Yep.

Do they make money? A lot of them do, yes.

I still haven’t made the shift to “pay per read.”

To be honest, there are dozens and dozens of articles that crow about making money from writing, with numbered lists (15 things to do to monetize Medium; 30 things I’ve learned writing 100 articles; ; 6 months, 100 articles and $6000 a month). Because they think that writing about how to make money will make them MORE money. (After all, doesn’t everyone want to make as much money as possible?)

And I am, frankly, bloody tired of the idea of writing only with the goal of generating “mailbox money.”

Why? Because I believe that sometimes you just do things for the joy of it. That yes, money is nice, but it is not everything. And I could care less about negatively skewing my algorithm because one day I am writing about balloons when I should be putting a ton of effort into “tarot” or “psychic” or “past lives.”

Who I am is what I write. How I see the world is what I share.

If I got hit by a bus tomorrow, there is a great comfort in knowing I’ve left words behind: in the form of three books, on the hundreds of podcasts on which I’ve appeared, and here.

Words reach across the miles and the years and bridge the gap between the living and the dead. Pictures are delicious, yes — give me the National Portrait Gallery in London and I’m lost for days — but words tell me what went on behind the eyes in those paintings.

To my constant readers, you have my huge thanks. You also have an invitation to tell me what you love to read; I *do* listen to that sort of thing, and it will tell me what to pull out of my bag of ideas.

But I write because I must. I write because my soul sings with ideas I want to share.

And I will not worry about whether the words generate dollars as long as they generate thoughts, conversations, and unexplored worldviews for others.