The First Newsletter Is the Hardest
Getting past the software, the blank page, and the feeling that you should already know how to do this
By Sue Pendleton, Founder
I write emails all the time. I write weekly emails for ENSOhello. I plan them, draft them, edit them, format them, and send them. I use Flodesk for ENSOhello, and I know my way around that system well enough that it feels comfortable to me.
So when I decided it was time to start sending a monthly newsletter for my own art, I thought the hard part would be deciding what to say. It was not. The hard part was the software.
My art website is built through FASO, and my subscription includes a newsletter tool. Since it is already part of what I pay for, it made sense to use it instead of adding another paid account somewhere else. That was the practical decision.
The emotional experience was different.
I opened the newsletter section, started looking at the templates, tried to make sense of the interface, and almost immediately felt myself wanting to run.
Not because I do not believe in newsletters.
Not because I do not know marketing matters.
Not because I had nothing to say.
Because I could not figure out how to make the thing do what I wanted it to do.
When the tool gets in the way
This is the part I think many artists understand. Sometimes the marketing idea itself is not the problem. The problem is the tool. And when that happens, frustration can very quickly turn into avoidance.
At one point, I honestly wanted to give up. Which felt ridiculous to me. Because I already do this. But I was using a format I was not familiar with, and suddenly the whole project felt bigger than it needed to be.
That is an important thing to notice.
Because artists are often told they need to “just send a newsletter” or “just build an email list” or “just stay in touch with collectors.”
But the word “just” can hide a lot.
Just choose a tool.
Just learn the software.
Just build the template.
Just make it look good.
Just figure out the image sizes.
Just find the button.
Just send the email.
That’s a lot of “justs.”
Start with something simple
The first helpful shift was deciding the newsletter did not need to be elaborate. I had started to imagine something more complicated than I needed. More sections. More design. More moving parts.
Then I asked AI for help thinking through a simpler structure. The recommendation was clear:
Top: my Sue Pendleton Fine Art wordmark.
Then: one strong hero image.
Then: a short personal note.
Then: one or two smaller sections, such as From the Studio, What I’m Working On, Available Work, or Upcoming.
Bottom: website and social links.
That made sense immediately. It was simple enough to update every month. It gave the email a shape. It gave me a way to stop designing from scratch and start thinking about the actual purpose of the newsletter: staying connected with people who care about my work.
That is something I want artists to remember. A newsletter doesn’t have to look like a magazine. It doesn’t have to be slick, elaborate, or packed with updates.
A simple, real note may work better.
One strong image.
One thought.
One or two useful sections.
One clear next step.
Not fancy. Findable. Not perfect. Sendable.
Then came the actual setup
Once I had the simple format, I still had to build it. That is where I hit the second wall.
The FASO newsletter interface was not intuitive for me. I could not immediately understand how the pieces worked together. Some of the template structure did not make sense for what I wanted.
So I asked AI for help again. I explained what I was trying to do, where I was frustrated, and what I could not figure out. Some parts of the FASO system were not visible to the AI tool, so it could not magically go in and fix everything for me. But I was able to take screenshots and upload them.
That changed everything. Suddenly I was not just staring at the screen by myself. I had something that could look at what I was seeing, help me understand what was probably happening, and talk me through the next stepWe ended up tossing the original template because it was not helping.
Then AI helped me understand the basic structure of the interface. It helped me see how the pieces were set up and make practical design choices, like choosing a newsletter font that was close to the one I use on my website, since my exact website font was not available in the email tool. It suggested button and accent colors based on the primary image and overall feeling of my website.
It did not just “do it for me.” It helped me understand it. And that is the part that mattered most.
I didn’t feel alone anymore
The biggest shift was not that AI solved every problem, but I stopped feeling alone in the problem.
It felt like someone with a lot of experience and familiarity with the software was sitting beside me, walking me through it at my pace.
I could ask a question.
Then another one.
Then a very specific follow-up.
Then I could upload a screenshot and say, “This is where I’m stuck.”
And instead of spiraling into frustration, I could keep moving. The stress disappeared. Or at least, enough of it disappeared that I could focus on the actual task again.
This is why I think AI can become an artist’s best friend. Not in the studio making the art. or replacing the artist’s eye, hand, instincts, voice, or decisions. But helping with the work around the work and the moment when the tool gets in the way of the thing you are trying to share.
Just start
There’s no prize for doing all of this alone. There’s only the work you’re trying to share, and the people who may want to stay connected to it.
The first newsletter may be the hardest. But it doesn’t have to be fancy. In fact, simple is much better. It just has to become possible.
It has to start. From there it can grow.
