Your Pretty Portfolio Isn’t Paying Your Rent. Let’s Fix That.

You know what most creative portfolios are? Art galleries with no prices and no staff. Just pretty pictures on a white wall. You walk through, go “hmm, nice,” and then walk out without spending a dime.

That’s your website right now, isn’t it? I’m not trying to be mean. I’m trying to wake you up.

You’re an author. An artist. A creative of some kind. You built a gorgeous Squarespace thing with parallax scrolling and fade-ins. Your work looks amazing. And nobody is hiring you.

Why? Because you built a museum, not a tool.

Let me tell you something my therapist told me, which also applies to websites: Intention without action is just a nice feeling. You want clients. You want book deals. You want commissions. That requires a website that doesn’t just show your work, it moves people to do something.

So pour some coffee. Or whiskey. I don’t judge. Let’s tear down your portfolio and rebuild it like a goddamn salesperson who also happens to make beautiful things.


First, Stop Showing Everything. Nobody Cares About Your Range.

I know. You’re versatile. You do watercolors and digital illustration and collage and poetry. You’re a renaissance weirdo. Congratulations.

Here’s what a potential client sees: confusion.

If I’m an art director looking for a children’s book illustrator, and your portfolio has landscapes, abstract nudes, and a sad poem about a refrigerator? I’m gone. I don’t know what you do. I just know you do too much.

Action Step: Go through your portfolio right now. Pick one thing you want to be hired for. Just one. Not your whole identity. Not your soul. One service or style. Remove everything else. Save it for a secondary page or Instagram. Your homepage is for that one thing.

Author version: Are you a literary novelist? Romance writer? Memoirist? Don’t show all three. Pick your strongest lane. One genre, one voice, one vibe.


The UX Rule That Will Change Your Life: Don’t Make Me Think

Here’s a test. Go to your website. Hand your phone to someone who loves you: your partner, your mom, a stranger at a coffee shop. Ask them one question:

“How do I hire this person?”

Time them. If it takes longer than three seconds, your website is broken.

Most creatives hide their “Contact” or “Hire Me” button in a menu somewhere. Or worse, at the bottom of a footer. You make people hunt for the thing you actually want them to do.

That’s insane. That’s like owning a bakery and putting the cash register in the bathroom.

Action Step: Put a button that says “Hire Me,” “Commission a Piece,” “Work With Me,” or “Book a Call” in the top right corner of your site. And on every single page. And after every single project you show. Don’t make them scroll. Don’t make them think. Just give them the thing.

And for god’s sake, don’t use a contact form that asks for their mother’s maiden name. Just give an email address. Or a Calendly link. Or carrier pigeon. Anything.


Show Your Work Strategically: The “Problem → Process → Result” Method

Writers and artists love to just post the thing. Here’s a painting. Here’s a book cover. Here’s a poem. Cool.

But clients don’t buy art. They buy solutions to problems.

  • A publisher doesn’t buy a book cover. They buy someone who can sell more copies through great design.
  • A homeowner doesn’t buy a painting. They buy something that fills the empty wall and makes them feel sophisticated at dinner parties.
  • A magazine doesn’t buy an illustration. They buy an image that doesn’t make readers close the tab.

So stop showing just the result. Show the problem and the process.

Action Step (Writers): Next to each writing sample, add two sentences.

  • The problem: “The client needed a brand voice that was playful but not childish, for a sustainable pet food company.”
  • The result: “The landing page conversion rate increased 40% after my rewrite.”

Action Step (Artists): Instead of just the final painting, show:

  • The initial sketch (look, I’m human)
  • The feedback round (look, I take direction)
  • The final piece (look, I deliver)

That’s not just a portfolio. That’s a case study. And case studies get you hired.


Your “About” Page Is Not Your Diary

I love you. I do. But I don’t need to know that you’ve been drawing since you were three and that art saved your life and that you have a rescue cat named Beans.

That’s for your podcast. Or your memoir. Or a date.

Your “About” page for clients needs three things:

  1. What you make
  2. Who you make it for
  3. Why they should trust you

That’s it. One paragraph. Then a photo of you making eye contact (not looking moodily into the distance). Then the damn Hire button again.

Action Step: Rewrite your bio right now using this template:
“I’m [Name]. I help [specific type of client] [achieve specific result] with my [specific creative skill]. I’ve worked with [two relevant names, or “several independent authors” if you’re new]. Want to see if we’re a fit? Click the button below.”

See? Painless.


The CTA: Your Most Neglected Tool

Call-to-action. CTA. The words on a button that tell people what to do.

Most creatives use: “Contact” or “Submit” or “Learn More.”

Those are garbage words. They mean nothing. They have no energy. They’re like asking someone to prom by whispering “maybe.”

Instead, use action-oriented, low-pressure CTAs:

  • “Let’s Talk About Your Project” (warm, collaborative)
  • “Request a Quote” (clear, transactional, good for commercial work)
  • “See My Rates” (transparent, builds trust)
  • “Book a Free 15-Minute Call” (low barrier, high conversion)

Action Step: Go through your entire website. Find every button that says “Submit” or “Send.” Change it to something a human would actually say. Then put that button at the top, the middle, and the bottom of every page.

Yes, every page. People don’t scroll linearly. They jump around. Your “Work” page needs a CTA. Your “About” page needs a CTA. Even your 404 page needs a CTA. (Error page? “Looks like you’re lost. While you’re here, want to hire me?”)


One More Thing: Speed. I’m Serious.

Your portfolio has giant 10MB images, doesn’t it? You exported them at full resolution because you’re proud of the texture and the brushstrokes.

I get it. But here’s what happens: I click your link. Your site takes four seconds to load. I close the tab and hire someone whose site loaded in one second.

Action Step: Run your site through Google’s PageSpeed Insights (free). If it’s slow, compress your images. TinyPNG. Squoosh. Just do it. Nobody has ever said “I wish that painting loaded slower.”


The Final Truth (Because You Need to Hear It)

You’re afraid. I know. You’re afraid that if you make your website too salesy, you’ll look desperate. Or that you’ll scare away the “right” clients.

But here’s the thing nobody tells you: Desperate isn’t having a CTA. Desperate is hiding.

Creative people hide behind vague portfolios and no prices and email forms that feel like applying for a passport. You hide because rejection hurts. You hide because you’d rather be seen as mysterious than unwanted.

But a good website with clear CTAs? That’s not desperate. That’s respectful. You’re respecting the client’s time. You’re respecting your own worth. You’re saying, “I make good work. I’m easy to hire. Let’s do this.”

That’s confidence. Not desperation.

So go fix your site. Put a button on it that actually says something. Show the problem before the solution. And for the love of god, stop using “Submit.”

Now get out of here, you’ve got a website to fix.


Look, here’s the thing, alright? You read this whole post, you hung in there with the tangents, the rants, the quiet desperation of a brand trying to find its voice. You liked it, I can tell. But liking it doesn’t fix your broken funnel or your embarrassing open rates. So do yourself a favor: stop scrolling, stop overthinking, stop treating strategy like some mystical art form that’s gonna land on your porch in a dream. Get Digital Marketing for Creatives. It’s not a magic wand, it’s a wrench. It’s the thing you actually need to tighten up the mess you keep complaining about. Buy the book, fix your stuff, and get out of your own way. Alright? Good.

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