Jeremy C Kester

A quick essay where I am asking, “how often should I be releasing work on these sites?”

There is a question always entering my mind as a creative individual around quantity. How much should one write? How much should one publish? How often should we bother those who are (or might be) our readers?

In truth, I never really found a good answer to these questions. 

Plenty of individuals fall on the far sides of the debate — one being seldom, if ever, for varying reasons; the other insisting almost on continuous, or as often as possible. Most probably fall somewhere in the middle. Maybe, like me, many of those people want to know some number to abide by. What is the right amount? How much is too much or too little? We want a specific number to follow — a mensurable goal to achieve.

Following several differing accounts, I am not sure I can even figure this out without a caveat. How much do I, the consumer, want? Some accounts bombard me multiple times a day with updates and statuses and all these other interactions, and I feel like unfollowing them. Not because their content is necessarily bad, just not what I am interested in. 

Or the updates become overwhelming. Or annoying. Like the kid jumping up and down yelling, “look at me; look at me!” over and over while you are trying to do something — anything else. While the intention may be good and wholesome, the outcome quickly becomes something else. There is little there to hold my attention.

Others update at varying frequency and I can’t seem to get enough. Whatever they do, I simply crave more. Trying to eat only one potato chip and soon enough the bag is empty, crumbs are all over my shirt and I am grabbing my keys to go get more from the store… only they are out of stock.

Of course, all creative artists who share their work want the latter. We want fans who become almost rabid for what we produce. However, we tend to be more sensitive to those who might be turned off by what we make or how often we jump in their face waving our arms for them to see what we made. Many take it deeply personal, as creativity is in large part self expression, even if it explores topics seeming far removed from the artist themselves. We care a lot. Knowing a definitive number to hit to get just enough becomes almost quintessential.

What number of times a day should we send an update? How many words should they be? What topic? We need answers, damn it!

Part of the issue here is the industry of content creation that grew out of the internet and social media. As each became profit centers through how much attention they could garner, the call for a constant churning of things to consume became paramount. Quantity over quality became the norm, with increasing demands for anyone wishing to “make it” to be ever faster and faster in pushing out content. What content? Authentic content, of course — whatever that means.

I agree with the concept of constant production in the creative world. Greatness doesn’t really come to those who only produce every so often. It is in working on a craft consistently how one refines and perfects their work. An example in my own life is in my poetry, where I try to write a poem each day. Of the hundreds of poems I have written over the years, only a fraction of them are truly close to good, in my honest opinion. Regardless, I believe I am getting better on average as time goes on. That would not have been possible though if I tried to write that specific number of poems (let’s say 20) and have them be as good or better than what I’ve produced through this effort. It is the toiling away and working and refining the craft making it possible.

Does that mean everything I write should be pushed out into the market to be consumed? Maybe; maybe not. I am not convinced either way. Back before the internet made it possible to do so at exceptionally low cost, it made sense the answer would be “no”. Why waste time and resources on anything short of great? Though it might take a larger examination, it almost seems like the old adage of something “not being worth the paper it is printed on” is no longer relative. After all, the cost to publish has gone to effectively zero.

In the modern content creative world, it makes a little more sense if one chooses to pursue the idea of sharing everything they do. But there is a risk: dilution of what is possibly great with too much mediocre or bad work.

Personally, I do not see the benefit of releasing every single piece of art I write. Given like what I said above, writing a poem nearly every day will mean most do not see the light of day. After I die, that might change, depending on what my child decides, but otherwise, they will remain buried in my books and files.

Where does this leave me, though? How am I supposed to really answer this question for myself, given all the evidence out there supporting any answer I am to choose? Ultimately, how much an artist (or content creator) should release depends on one thing: themselves. How much can one produce? How much of what they create are they willing to show to the world? How happy are they with it? These questions and more absolutely need answered on an individual level long before one even considers the audience. Because frankly, I don’t care what the audience thinks so long as I am happy and honest with what I create.

If I would be so bold, I think the best art, be it bad or good — popular or despised, must first come from the artist. The audience is always a happenstance.

And as a reader and consumer — I think I am OK with that.

Photo and words copyright © 2025 by Jeremy C Kester – all rights reserved.
Note: this is also cross-posted to Poetically Unlicensed on Substack.