love the begining

kicking off weekly newsletters

Though I call myself “consistently inconsistent,” I’m aware there is a certain irony to talking about inconsistency via the one thing I’ve done the longest. 64 weeks of this newsletter in a row and counting!

Moving to Scotland has been great for writing. In the past three months, I’ve published articles in Architectural Digest, Business Insider, and Apartment Therapy, which has been a dream come true.

But behind the scenes, I have probably had five hundred articles rejected. This means that some pretty good ideas die in my inbox. I want to spend more time sharing those ideas here. 

I’ve decided to write this newsletter more regularly, aiming for a weekly cadence. Please note I am stepping softly into this goal as to not scare myself into not doing it all.

So what can you expect? More newsletters, less perfect writing, probably some less developed ideas, but a stronger Sarah voice. I won’t have the time to refine it into perfection, but that means you’re definitely going to hear me on the page. 

Imagine me leaning across the table from you, slurping a mug of hot water with lemon at a dark West Village wine bar while I tell you a story with fifteen subplots. That’s where we’re headed. Pull up a chair!

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This Week’s Big Idea: Love the Beginning 

Oh, how I LOVE these early days of a project.

The energetic opposite to abandoning a project, starting a new venture is a dreamer’s ecstasy. I can imagine the project’s untouched potential spanning out in front of me like green rolling hills that stretch to the horizon.

The path to the end is clear and straight, it’s just up to me to start walking. In these early days, everything is possible because nothing has been done yet. Any action I take feels like real progress. Beginning is the best.

I romance my project ideas like they are precious treasures. I believe this is not an option, it's a necessity. I need delusion to get started. Why else would someone begin something that’s nearly sure to fail? Complete, unadulterated optimism. 

For me, an idea doesn’t marinate over time. It just simply arrives one day, hitting me like a jolt of lightning. I don’t brainstorm; I download. I’ll be running or showering or doing some mundane task and the idea emerges, fully baked and pounding on my doorstep to be listened to.

This happened with Royal Circus, my latest project that is a colorful and preppy home goods brand inspired by the cottage-core Scottish aesthetic. 

In this case, the logo’s red and white stripes appeared in my mind’s eye during a Sunday morning yoga class. The name too.

After saying namaste, I bolted out of the class and wrote everything I could into my iPhone notes. I went home and started a Pinterest board, easily sifting through photos of what the mood felt like (and what it did not). Rather than starting from scratch, getting going on Royal Circus felt like following a map that was already laid out in my head.

Unfortunately, this style of creativity does not bode well for collaboration. For me, there is no compromise. It’s either the thing in my head or it’s not. Because I’m the only one who is privy to the crystal clear plan in my mind, I am not very fun to be business partners with.

I found this out the hard way when I started an oatmeal company in college with three other people. I was ruthless and uncompromising. One of them told me that the experience of working with me was more stressful than being in the army. Tough feedback for sure, but it was helpful to learn early on.

Now for creative projects, I tend to work alone. Which is great for artistic integrity and less great for accountability. 

I work my best in the proverbial honeymoon period of a new project. For a beautiful week or so, everything is rose-colored. The world is possible. I’ve found the best thing for me is to ride the momentum to get as much done as possible. Momentum begets momentum. I am a snowball on a ski jump. 

It gets less fun, of course, as things start to get less feasible. As legal constraints, administrative tasks, and God Forbid, finances reduce the scope of what is possible. 

This is where having a business partner or collaborator to keep the snowball going would be helpful. But because that isn’t the case, I have learned how to keep myself moving.  

I have to love the beginning.

All of it. Not just the fun parts of ordering samples and evangelizing the idea, but the hard parts. I repeat to myself “I love beginning” over and over again.

When I’m faced with a complication. I love getting more information.

When I have to figure out how to launch a TikTok strategy. I love learning a new skill.

When the lampshades I want to make are too big to be shipped by air. I love finding the limit of this idea. 

It’s about reframing the parts that suck so I can embrace the whole of it. 

That’s not to say that blind positivity makes everything possible. It’s also about limiting how discouraged I get by setting my day up intentionally.

Harnessing momentum is a strategic necessity. If I do a bunch of admin tasks in a row, I risk stopping the snowball. If I get too stuck, I might not be able to get going again. Snuffing the spark is the biggest risk of the early days. 

Instead, I have to balance the exhausting activities with energy-giving ones.

I know what brings me energy in a project. In the case of Royal Circus, I love anything that has to do with beautiful things. I love picking colors, choosing materials, and gathering inspiration. I love ordering samples and talking about the brand vision. My brain is happiest when I see something come to life. 

What I don’t love: filing paperwork, legal work, logistics, anything pertaining to supply chain. 

Because I’m a solopreneur, working on my side projects in my spare time around my full-time job, I don’t get to offload the crappy bits to someone else.

But I can structure my day to make sure I don’t stop the momentum. When I feel my energy waning, I’ve learned to switch tasks. Return to the thing the next day, when I’m filled with caffeine and rest, fresh enough to get the snowball going again.

When I can properly navigate my energy levels, I can take advantage of the joy of starting. I’ve worked on enough side hustles to know that the magical quality of the early days is precious. I want to treasure them while they last.

With practice and intentionality, I can keep the love of the project alive long after the early days. I love beginnings and more importantly, I’m beginning to love all of it. 

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I’m curious, what are you working on right now? How do you keep your momentum going on a project?