I might delete this later ;)

Hello, strangers of the internet. 

As promised, I’m here to tell you a little bit about me. 

I’m Kayti Doolittle. 👋🏼

Yes, this is my real name. Not a pen name. 

Although Tuesday Beaman was a contender if I didn’t have the ovaries to write as myself.

I always wanted my name to be Tuesday. Beaman is the street I grew up on, which would make a great last name if I ever become a stripper. (Although I don’t see that happening. I’m not brave enough.) 

However, I am creating AI versions of Tuesday Beaman just in case. 

But I digress. Let me actually introduce myself. 

Again, my name is Kayti. 

I’m a reformed groupie, a helicopter mom of two little girls, a hot wife with the superpower to make Amazon sweatpants look like a snack (Asheer is a lucky man), and a business owner.

I’ve owned a boutique copywriting & creative agency for 9 years.

And I love it.

I’ve worked as a copywriter, creative director, product developer and marketing consultant for hundreds of brands and businesses. 

Not to sound like an internet bro, but…

To date: I’ve written ads about wild, handcrafted beauty products, natural wines, rare probiotics, and the hotel where Princess Diana had her last supper.

I’ve directed doggie photoshoots, created new brands from scratch, and developed products that have been sold at Nordstrom.

I’ve turned a nothing burger supplement into a 4 million-dollar-a-year product with a new 110-word ad. I launched (and helped formulate) 12 new products, taking a company from $14 million to $28 million in revenue.

I’ve provided jobs for up-and-coming writers.

My business has survived 2 maternity leaves and the pandemic.

It’s not always been easy or pretty.

It’s not always been profitable. 

And I’ve made some big costly mistakes along the way.

Like the time I earned A LOT more in one year and almost couldn’t pay my taxes.

Or the time I wrote an ad that was meant to save a company but nearly sank it. (Like athletes, copywriters don’t win every game.)

But overall… Through the highs and lows, I am proud of myself.

I’ve helped people build their businesses and supported my family.

That’s pretty cool.

There’s just one thing bugging me…

You see…

I want to be a writer.

Not just a copywriter. 

Before I die, I want to write at least one book.

Please know, I’m dying inside because I’ve just typed this. 🙃

This is a dream I’ve refused to say out loud to anyone but my husband, because what if I say it – and it doesn’t come true? What then?

I’ve wanted to be a writer and a published author since I was a kid. It was the main goal when I started my business in 2015. 

But I’m what my favorite online writer Ash Ambirge would say is a predictable little coward.

When I first started out, I was too chicken shit to write as “Kayti.”

I was scared of my own voice and thoughts.

I was scared of offending people or saying the wrong things.

Maybe it’s the Catholic girl in me, the deep belief that “if you have nothing nice to say you shouldn’t say it at all” or the sharp awareness of what the world hates more than anything – a strong woman with a point of view. 

Plus, I should admit (or confess rather) that I really love money. And I didn’t pursue becoming an author because I didn’t want to be a starving artist. I thought that’s what I would become.

My husband and several other talented artists in my life have proven to me that you can make a great living as a creative, over and over again, but I just told myself THEY were different.

They were talented.

I wasn’t good enough.

I knew I could make money writing ads. 

So I became a copywriter. 

One day I will focus on my own writing, I told myself.

One day turned into nearly 10 years.

To be fair, I’ve learned a lot about writing as a copywriter… I’ve built my craft without the pressure of writing as “Kayti.” And I still love writing ads. I love helping people build their businesses. I don’t intend to stop doing that anytime soon. 

But I also want to put some energy into my OWN writing. 

I’m tired of being a predictable little coward.

I’m going to be 38 this year. (Or 39. I should probably google that…)

I’m getting old.

And my sister just finished her last round of chemo.

She was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2023. At 41, she’s officially cancer-free. But the “we are all going to die and we don’t know when” hangover isn’t something I think you can solve with a lemon-flavored sugar-free Liquid IV.

Then there’s my daughters.

They are growing up.

Amira, my oldest daughter, is almost 7. 

She really sees me now. 

What am I teaching her? What am I teaching my youngest daughter Yara? 

• To make money at all costs?

• That creativity can’t pay the bills?

• That art is a waste of time?

So – here I am.

Speaking in my own voice. As Kayti.

Writing as myself.

Starting this newsletter or blog. (Barf 🤢, I hate both of those terms.) But I’m not sure what in the fuck to call it. 

So I guess we can call it a series. 

I’m going to spend the next year or so writing about how to be more creative every single day, even when you are scared of your own art and are terrified that following your heart will mean you have to live off ramen for the rest of your life. 

I’m going to share artist success stories, tools, tricks, and lessons I’m learning along the way in hopes that it will help you make and share your art. (Whatever that looks like for you. Whatever your art may be.)

I will overedit, overthink, and probably stress about every detail here. 

I mean, I am a writer after all. 

I am forever trapped in my head, crafting the most perfect sentence, thought, or argument you ever heard in your life. 

This whole thing feels cute now, but in the end, I might crumple this up like a wad of paper and toss it in the trash.

In the end, I might just have a waste basket full of paper ghosts.