I'm not gonna lie. I hate the word "content," at least as it has come to be used.

The basic meaning is fine: the substance (written or otherwise) of a website or online platform. When we go to IMDB for movie facts, we're looking for that website's content. When we scroll reels on Instagram or watch videos on YouTube, we're looking for Instagram's content. That's fine. It's what the word means.

But if you think of yourself as a content creator, you need to ask a crucial question: Whose content are you creating?

'Cause here's the thing. When I write for this website, or when I write words for a book, I'm creating content for myself. Yes, I have a web host, but they provide a paid service; they don't own my content. And yes, Izanami's Choice has a publisher, but they have only licensed rights to my content for a fee—it's still mine (and reverts wholly to me under specified criteria).

But when I stream on Twitch or port videos to YouTube, who am I creating content for now?

And what do I get out of it?

Hey, I'm not saying nobody should ever create content that doesn't belong to them. We all gotta eat, and plenty of content creators know exactly the deal they're getting (e.g., creating content in exchange for ad share). Most of my gigs in the last 15 years have been creating content for people in a work-for-hire situation. I don't own it or control it, but I do get paid. 

But there are thousands, millions, of us who upload text and pictures and videos every day to websites we don't control and from which we don't get paid. In exchange, we maybe get connected to other people who might see and like our content.

We are, essentially, doing it for the exposure.

I hate this. And I hate that those of us who create to eat feel like we have to do it (which is probably part of why I haven't posted here in six weeks—oops).

But we don't have to submit quietly.

I'm not gonna tell you to stop creating free content for the world's richest vampires. Heck, I'm still doing it. But I'm gonna think more about why I'm creating that content, who it's for, and most importantly, what I'm getting out of it. If that calculus is worth it (as it is in my work-for-hire gigs), then cool. And if not?

Well, maybe there are better things I can do with my time.

And my content.