I was recently listening to an interview with an actor who recounted the story of how a single person, a director I believe it was, had made a huge impact early on in his career by championing him, making connections for him, and advocating for him in certain situations. And that changed the trajectory of his whole career.
And it really got me thinking about how much of an impact one single person can make in someone else's life. In regular nine-to-five job situations, it's oftentimes not about what you know, but who you know that allows you to get certain jobs. And, in the creative fields, this is even more so the case. Many times, passing on a recommendation to someone else can make a huge difference.
Over the years of working as a journalist in the creative fields, I have had the privilege of being able to connect a lot of different people. Introductions and recommendations have been a part of what I do for many years now.
And when it comes to my own creative endeavors, I think about the relatively small body of work that I have produced thus far in my life. And I realize and recognize that my life and my work are not something that's going to live much beyond my physical lifetime. Outside of close friends and family, my name probably won't live on for very long once I'm gone.
People will not be writing articles or biographies or essays about me or my work. They won't be studying my output like people do even to this day with the likes of C.S. Lewis or J.R.R. Tolkien and many others. Not to compare my work with the oeuvre of those greats, but there will be no Douglas Gresham or Christopher Tolkien to help keep my projects in the public consciousness. For those of us in the family-friendly audio drama space, perhaps a more apt reference would be folks like Phil Lollar, the co-creator of one of the most beloved shows in audio drama history, whose work will live on far beyond him. And the same is true for those around him who were there at the beginning of that series, and those who have worked on it over the years since the launch.
Now, I know that there is still time to do more things in my life, Lord willing. I'm not finished. But I am being pragmatic and realistic. I recognize that there will come a time when I will be out of the picture, and most likely my work and my name will be forgotten. Though I do plan to have all of my audio projects uploaded to the Internet Archive at some point, so that future generations may stumble across them and benefit from my work in some way. (And since we're on this topic, I do think we creatives need to have a plan in place for what happens to our content when we're no longer here. For example, a podcast media host will not keep a feed active if you're not there to pay that monthly bill, so plan for that.)
But I have realized that I am okay with the fact that my work may not live beyond me. Because I am striving to do my very best to make an impact in the lives of those around me in any way I can. If I can make an introduction for somebody, like that actor I mentioned at the top, and help them land a role or a gig that helps define their career, I am happy to do that.
I want to make a difference wherever and whenever I possibly can. If my legacy is only in those small connections behind the scenes, helping open doors for people, then so be it. If my creative work is only enjoyed by a small circle right now, I want to be at peace with that. Yes, of course, I would love to see it grow and reach more people while I'm still here. But if that never happens, and I am able to make a difference in a few people's lives in some other way, by being a support or encouragement to them, then that's the more important legacy to me.
I know this is a little bit different from my normal topics, and it's probably a little disjointed. But this is just one of those times where I thought I would share some raw, not-fully-formed thoughts on leaving a legacy as a creative.
I would love to hear your take on this. Send your feedback to show@jdsutter.me. Or comment below.
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