My friend was a curator for a central London art gallery. We were driving out from the centre into the countryside to visit a couple of artists for the day.

"So what makes you choose one artist over another?" I asked.

"Well, what I look for isn't an individual piece. It's a substantial body of work so I get an idea of how they think and what we can expect if we choose to exhibit them."

It was a fascinating day. We visited a coastal town Whitstable, to meet a rather maverick artist. She was famous for -giving out sticks of rock with the name of a local paedophile on them - which caused a bit stir... but also won her lots of attention in the local newspapers. My friend disliked her work, but I loved the irreverence of her spirit. It was putting two fingers up at the world.

Then we ventured to a green valley to meet an older lady with her husband in her cottage. She painted with watercolours I seem to remember - very traditional. She'd previously been featured in my friend's gallery. You could see why she'd been chosen. There was a certain energy and old beauty about her art.

As a contributer here on Steemit, you are an artist.

You are a writer. You are a journalist. You can create whatever you want and will probably get paid for it.

The thing is, like these professional artists - the rewards are often uneven and disproportionate.

You'll sometimes spend hours and days on something and receive nothing. You'll sometimes spend 30 minutes on something and get paid insanely.

The fact about art and writing and everything generally in life is - it all feeds into your future work. You can link back to your previous work. It can be scaffolding for points you want to make in future articles, but don't have time to explain.

To do what you do now, you need your previous experience. You may have been paid well for it. You may have done it for nothing. Often it takes time before you get into a rhythm and have a nose for what's great.

Personally, I wrote ~120 articles on my own blog before Steemit. Before that I was writing for local magazines in newspapers and even set up my own school newspapers. Here I share what I learned so you can improve your writing

I earned very little for it but it gave me experience. I did it because I enjoyed it - it meant something to me.

Writing is like growing muscles

You work out, you sweat, you rest. Nothing happens immediately - you're pumping out the same kind of thing. Then one day other's notice that "you're getting good at this". Then eventually you start to get noticed more by people you respect.

Eventually people think you're pumping out masterpieces and you just shrug and say "I'm just doing what I always did".

What's important is that you treat Steemit as a place to develop your body of work.

How well you do here, isn't about you next 1 article. It's your next 5, 10, 20 articles. It's how things are in year, or a few years. You may get grossly over-rewarded for something. You might get nothing for most of it.

Experiment. Say what you need say. Try different topics. Try longer-form. Try adding more gifs. Try try try.

The thing is to set yourself reasonable expectations

I wince at how certain women, get $1000s here for just introducing themselves... while great writers with great articles get next to nothing. But part of it's luck - a whale vote can get you too much attention on article. While the rest languish in the archives.

For better or worse, it's just how things are now.

And let's not forget Steemit is sensationally better than traditional blogging or freelance writing

Here, you have a premade audience. You have almost-instant feedback. You don't have to spend much time on promotion at all. You don't have to spend all your time begging an editor or marketing manager to let you write for them. You simply have to provide value to the Steemit hivemind here - and be rewarded accordingly.

Now if you want to do well here, write, show us your soul... And build that body of work

Because once we know you're a good writer, people will see your name and shoot you an instant upvote.