What if I quit writing?
What if I just lived my life without writing?
Maybe writing about my past is pointless. How does my writing serve readers? I don’t have words of wisdom, like the bloggers I admire. I just describe my experiences and my own interpretations of them—because it’s interesting to me to do that.
It’s hard to describe the feeling of finishing a blog post, pasting it into Substack, adding photos and so on, and being on the point of hitting Publish. Instead of a feeling of connection with the world, I feel alone and muffled, as in, surrounded by sound-deadening foam. I sense the millions of personal blogs like mine, whispering into a few dozen inboxes where many remain unopened.
Before I hit the Publish button, I think about whether I am pointlessly revealing TMI. Anyone who reads me, I imagine them wondering why I bother to write about the long-ago. Most people, who don’t read me or even those who do, click on polished, sometimes contrived posts by content creators with a critical mass of consumers I will never have. I couldn’t post that way even if I wanted to—which means I will never have a platform of thousands of readers and attract a publisher for my book.
Clicking Publish on a blog post few people will read, and fewer will “like” or comment on, feels doubtful enough. The future of wanting to publish a book, while believing it will probably feel the same silenced way that these posts feel—and knowing that even if I publish my book myself it will probably not break even financially—is probably the reason I work so slowly on the book. Who wants to finish the art in order to start the new, likely impossible job of attracting attention to it?
Does my writing serve a purpose for anyone other than myself? Has any reader picked up a single new piece of wisdom or insight from my essays?
When I hit Publish, am I even expressing myself, if nobody reads me?
Is my private journal self expression?
If I really were in a dark room, alone, whispering, would that be self expression?
With every post, I have to coach myself through answering each of those questions Yes, sometimes alone and sometimes by talking with someone.
This is how I talk to myself in order to hit Publish:
People have said they like my work. Right off the top of my head I can list at least ten people who have either liked or commented, or who have told me in person or in a message that they enjoy my posts. Readers who don’t know me have said my writing is good. Two publications have published me.
If 60 people out of 130 subscribers open my post emails, then I’m expressing myself to 60 people. Not zero.
Whispering alone in a silent room was what I did as a young child, when I had imaginary friends. Imaginary friends, talking to oneself, and journaling are ways of beginning to self actualize, or project your personality into the world. I envy writers who have a long track record in the world and I will probably always be an uncertain beginner. I feel I have wisdom that there’s no need for.
I would like to feel more certain of a readership by the time I publish or self-publish my book.
This line of thought could be an impetus to participate in open readings.
Your self discovery, is from your writing, right? This your writing has proved its worth already. Then what about those other girls who experience loss in their tweens and teens, you can speak to them regardless of profit and loss. I run a website for a group I belong to that due to the age of those involved sees little traffic. My thought is, as time goes on, those younger members will shift, before we need a tic toc channel!
Such good questions, Fran - I get it. It's weird out here in Substackland and screenland, in general. So...congested. But somehow we all still fit. Keep nudging in and keep writing your book!