What If You Just Wrote a Little Something?

Plus, a conversation with *the* Jami Attenberg.

I’ve been thinking about how Substack provides a platform for so many people who thought their writing lives were over after they filed their last high school or college paper.

It’s magical to me that, in a time when some companies believe AI could one day replace the human imagination, people are penning essays for fun on Substack. Just because they’ve had thoughts in their minds for years and nowhere they felt safe sharing them. Just because now they’ve watched others be vulnerable every week. Just because they loved a movie or a book, have thoughts about the current political climate, or can’t contain their excitement about fall sweaters and PSLs.

Just because. 

For a long time, I waited for a social media reckoning I believed would come with Gen Z. My prediction was that there would be a mass exodus from Instagram, TikTok, and the like. Surely we would all decide to turn away from our phones and return to our small communities. Spoiler alert: No such movement happened (or, at least, not yet). I had to pack my bags and leave all on my own. Party of one. 

Once I parted ways with Instagram, I discovered dozens of essays on Substack written by folks who’d had a similar social media breakup. To me, this says that people don’t only want to free themselves of traditional forms of social media; they want to explore and process how the era of short captions and highlight reels has affected them — and how they can use long-form, shared content to mold a new way of being online.

What I’m seeing now is a collective yearning to write not to “create content” but to create connection. To think deeply about the things we love and hate and question and try our best to communicate them. While Substack has now expanded into video and audio capacities, this is (for now) a writing-first platform, and I’m heartened that so many people want to string words together. One after the other.

Creating slowly, creating with intention

Plate 12: Two Views of a Silver-Bordered Fritillary and a Mole Cricket, c.1575/1590s; National Gallery of Art

As I’m writing this, I can’t stop thinking of the work of Joris Hoefnagel, a Flemish art monster from the 16th century. Let me tell you: This guy dabbled. His many long-ago pastimes included manuscript illumination, Latin poetry, and topographical drawing. But I most remember him for a series of watercolors he did chronicling the world’s many creatures, from elephants to cranes to butterflies.

Because he paid equal attention to the rendering of a lynx or a beetle, his work implies that they are equally important. Worthy of recording. What’s more, they are detailed and painted with an obvious respect. Deep love and appreciation.

What if our “rejection” of social media is something close to these pieces? That is, intentional, slow, and meditative in a time when media companies profit on us to be impulsive, quick, and unreflective. As I poured over these watercolors again this morning, I kept thinking, I want to bring the spirit of Hoefnagel to my Substack and, more generally, to all my work here on earth.

National Gallery of Art

Writing = resisting the attention economy

When was the last time you wrote something just to see what you were thinking about? It doesn’t have to live on Substack or be read by anyone but you. I’ve come to the realization that something like 85% of the writing I do in my life will be just for me. At different times, I think this will grow all the way up to, say, like 95% but it will never dip below that 85%. (There are at least five Substack essays I’ve written that will never see the light of day because, by the time I finished them, I realized they were just for me.)

I’ve started to think of longer writing as not just a creative exercise but an act of resistance. Digital natives and digital adopters alike deserve the opportunity to refuse the model of fast thinking and fast content.

What if instead of watching giraffe zoo memes, you drew a giraffe in absolute painstaking detail? I mean this metaphorically, of course — but really, what if you took out your notes app right now and wrote down an observation or a thought or a rant that's been living rent-free in your mind? What if you let go of all the writing “rules” you learned in high school and just let yourself be long-winded?

For those of you who are interested in writing on Substack (or just starting a writing practice in general), I spoke to the 1000-words-a-day queen herself,

Jami Attenberg

. Attenberg’s novels and essays have been constant companions in my life ever since I found that #1000wordsaday hashtag on Instagram years ago. She talks about writing with a level of joy that always sends me running to my journal or manuscript, and I feel so honored to that she answered some of my burning questions.

Thanks, Jami! P.S. Questions have been shortened for clarity because I babbled :)

1. Do you have any tips for growing a platform on Substack without losing your authenticity?

I remember visiting a prominent MFA program about a decade ago and giving a talk and saying how important a platform was and everyone in the room gave me a death stare as if that topic were beneath them, so it's actually nice to hear some of these programs have caught up. What I would say is that you should write about what you're interested in (and it doesn't necessarily need to be writing!), and you should write consistently, at least twice a month, to at least get yourself into the practice of showing up and developing your voice in that way. And I would definitely reach out to other people on their substacks, comment on their pages (if you truly have something to say), and just spend a little time learning what the conversations are out there and sort of paying attention to what's working. 

But only do any of this if it interests you! Don't spend time somewhere you don't enjoy if it's going to feel like an awful grind. That's not fun for anyone. And there are other social media platforms that might make sense to you. Or maybe it's just fine to have a presence and let your work speak for itself. It's not necessary to have a big platform to build a writing career. Nor does it guarantee book sales. I agree it can be helpful to get a publisher's attention, but the book you're writing is the most important thing of all.

2. How do you approach your Substack on weeks when you feel overwhelmed and spread thin?

I only write the newsletter when I have something to say, and I'm not really on a tight schedule except that I like to do it once a week. There are a lot of mornings I wake up and I'm thinking about whatever my current novel project is and that's just where my energy is going to go for the day. But there's usually one morning a week where my brain is like, you need a pause from your novel but it would still be fun to do some writing today. So then it's time to write a newsletter. 

I actually see it as a break from the bigger projects of my life. And I see it as a way to say hello to all my friends out there, too. It's really a check in and a way for me to collect my thoughts from the week or sometimes to respond to conversations I see happening on the internet. I also sometimes will get what I think is a good idea (usually based on a conversation I've had with a writer friend) for a newsletter but I won't have time to write it. So I just keep a running list of them and if there are days I don't have a solid idea in the moment, I'll pick something from that list. The point is to make it easy and fun, which hopefully shows up in the tone. These are things I want to be talking about, writing about, here's what's on my mind kind of vibe.

3. What are your tips for creating a sense of community on Substack?

I must admit I don't spend a lot of time focusing on building community outside of my own Substack. I think I switched over to the app in like 2019 or 2020? I can't remember which. But by then I already had at least 5000 people signed up and it grew quickly from there. So much of what I do is just manage the community I already have. But in general my experience on the internet these last two decades is that it's about being present and spending time on things that feel of interest to you and being supportive rather than critical, and then seeing what you can build from that. That's just how I prefer to spend my time anyway. Making the good stuff.

In absolutely thrilling news, Attenberg’s new novel, A Reason to See You Again, comes out on September 24. Here’s a little elevator pitch: “The women of the Cohen family are in crisis. Triggered by the death of their patriarch, Rudy, the glue that held them all together, everyone’s lives soon take a dramatic turn.” Ah! I can’t wait to get my hands on this!

Readers, I’d love to know what comes up when you think about writing something? Do you feel impatient? Stuck? Bored? Lol. I’m curious!

Thank you, as always, for reading Life Lives, and thanks again, Jami, for answering my questions.

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