A Conversation with Amie McNee
What are you most excited about when it comes to the launch of your new book: We Need Your Art?
I'm excited for We Need Your Art to go out there and start changing people's lives. For my book baby to go have a life of her own, inspiring people to create, taking care of artists who are hurting, gently nudging people back to their art. This lead up has been so intense, and I have championed this book with my whole heart. It is time for the book to start working her magic.
You have also written and self-published two fiction books. Congrats! How has the experience of writing novels compared to this?
Writing non-fiction is always so different to writing fiction. A little more grounded, a little more left brain. But it's still immensely magical. I've had the chance to crystalize all the ideas that have been brewing for a decade and to put all those ideas into one book is so satisfying. But most importantly, I got the opportunity to write the book I desperately needed to read - it's been a profound experience.
You’ve mentioned that the publishers of We Need Your Art told you that they knew you didn’t need them, i.e. you could have published it on your own as you’ve been doing so far. Why was this acknowledgement so significant to you?
Artists, of all sorts, not just authors - have been sold the story that we must be chosen in order to take up space creatively. Picking myself, (self publishing) before a publisher picked me, reminded me that the artist is the one who has the power, we are the one who create. We live in a world where many want to ensure the creative feels powerless, especially in these sort of negotiations, so to go into this conversation with the publishing houses knowing my worth and my power was crucial and very satisfying. Artists don't NEED these gatekeeping industries anymore, but we can CHOOSE to work with them if it feels good.
I’ve been told directly never to self-publish as it would equal self-sabotage. Why do you think this has been the narrative and what do you say in response?
Oh, I’d love to sit down with that person and give them a real Amie talking-to. There’s a persistent myth that self-publishing is what you do when no one else wants you—that it’s a declaration of failure. But that’s a complete misunderstanding. Self-publishing is a declaration that you know you have something to give. It’s not a last resort; it’s a powerful, strategic choice.
Choosing yourself—backing your own work—takes guts. It means you believe in your art enough to put it into the world on your own terms. And, from a business perspective, self-publishing can be an incredibly smart move. It gives you control, ownership, and direct access to your readers.
So, no, self-publishing isn’t self-sabotage. It’s self-empowerment.
Was there a moment you realised that you could finally focus on your creativity and business full time?
I lost my cafe job in 2018, and moved in with my in-laws. I knew I should be applying to other 'real jobs', but I found myself having the privilege of having low expenses, plus I found myself unable to envision going back to work doing anything other than writing. It was then, in that precious moment, that I decided to give it my best shot. I fully expected I'd need to be making flat whites again soon, and I had no idea how to make it work, but I started trying things... I started to take writing seriously.
You talk a lot about maintaining consistency and the benefits of building a “creative practice” to work around your everyday life. Is this how you’ve always gone about creating?
It took me six years to write my first book, and six months to write my second. There were several factors playing into this drastic difference, but the biggest one was consistency. For my first novel, I would write 3000 words on a good day, then wait a few weeks and write 1000 words another day, then get a bit tired, get distracted and come back two months later and write 2000 more words. It was sporadic. I was demanding so much from myself. For my second book, I asked myself to write 500 words a day. The small baby consistent steps built my identity as a writer, and it also built my books.
Let’s take a writing session as an example. What does your creative practice look like today and why do you think it’s effective?
300 words minimum 1000 words maximum, every weekday. It works like a charm. I write first thing in the morning. The only thing I do before writing my books is drink coffee and I journal for an A4 page. If I am editing, it's less clear cut, but I essentially will do anything from 20 minutes of editing to an hour each day. Baby steps equal mastery.
On your platforms, you discuss the idea that making art is a “responsible” thing to do. Could you expand on this a little?
Artists are always told that chasing their dreams is irresponsible. And I am exhausted by this narrative. Is it responsible to squish an inherent part of yourself? No. Is it responsible to sacrifice your life to what you should be doing? No. Is it responsible to deny the world the art that only you can create? Absolutely not.
We’ve been conditioned to believe that responsibility is about stability, predictability, and following the safest path. But true responsibility—to ourselves, to our communities, to the world—is about showing up as who we really are. And for artists, that means making our art.
What is your opinion on “tough love” from some successful creatives, who warn budding artists that their chances of prosperity in the arts are slim?
It makes me want to throw something. We need to be honest about our industries, but the way so many successful, wealthy artists warn aspiring artists to stay away from their dreams disgusts me. The successful artist's role is to put the ladder down. Their job is to say, this is a tricky road, how can I help you? How can we make this work for you?
And lastly, what is success to you?
It is right now.
I am so successful.
I write books for a living. I drink coffee slowly in the morning. I go for walks. I let the sun touch my face. This is success.
Editorial Picks
