Love this. I frequent songwriter open mics and I gush effusively when I like what someone did. I feel like it makes other people uncomfortable sometimes and I try to tamp it down, but it’s so moving to see someone vulnerably share something beautiful.
Yes. My ridiculous version of this is that I used to watch American Idol and shed copious tears at the most vulnerable, in-the-zone performances. If someone started hitting it out of the park, my kids (little then) would always check my face to see if I was crying, and yes I always was. I think it's amazing for those songwriters to hear how much they were able to move you! It's not like you get to hear those kinds of words every day, even if it does feel a little awkward for the people who were just sipping their beers and thinking about the surface of the moon.
Somewhat related: when I was a little kid, I wanted to be a writer. I turned into something else -- a visual artist -- and only really wrote for the public by crafting social media updates. I wrote furiously at home, though, privately, always. About a year ago, I floated the idea of starting a Substack to some people, and to my great surprise, I got a super positive reception. More than one person told me they loved my words and my brain. One friend of twenty years told me that he always made sure to read what I posted on social media because he knew it’d be insightful. Now, two things: I’m so grateful I got to hear that. I still haven’t started my Substack, but at least I know I’d have some readers. The OTHER thing that occupies my mind -- admittedly more greatly -- is the fact that, for years, I didn’t KNOW that ANYONE truly enjoyed my writing. I got “likes” on my posts, and occasionally someone would tell me in person that my updates were amusing, but that was it. It was shocking to hear that people genuinely loved my writing. That they even respected it. Polly mentions here that you have to tell people OUT LOUD when you see a little spark in them. I’m just reinforcing that with this comment -- I’m struck that if I didn’t voice my dreams, I wouldn’t have heard any of these words from anyone. I would’ve gone on with life thinking people tolerated my writing, at best. I try to make a point and tell people when I love their work, as often as possible. It usually feels feeble and insufficient and people are often humble and diffident, but: say the words, whenever you can. You might SHOCK someone. You might change their life.
Yes! But now all I can picture is those old-fashioned cheerleader uniforms with the long-sleeved sweaters. I can only imagine how hot and itchy that polyester blend must feel when you're trying to jump up and down and it sounds perfect... *leaves to research custom cheer uniforms for 10 hours*
Ah, yes. You had me at "Everyone is insecure and everyone is in crisis. This is true because the world is insecure and in crisis." My friend works at a startup and recently his (obviously insecure) boss wanted him to pay more attention to detail. To this end, the boss said, "companies don't get nine figure exits without attention to detail." I both want to kill that guy and also forward him this article.
What a time to be alive! The company's mission statement is AN EXIT SIGN.
Thanks for sharing. I want to skeet or toot or poot a screenshot of your comment because it's just so funny and ridiculous, but it's also so COMPLETELY BAT SHIT.
Thank you for the pep rally! Rather than sit down and write my weekly Substack post, I chose to read Ask Polly. In this instance, procrastination turned out to be a wonderful choice. Now, after a dose of Polly Pep, I’m ready to write!
Also - I genuinely didn't know you could just send completed essays directly to editors! Everything I've read before said to write a "brief pitch," (unless a magazine has open submissions, in which case you should submit a piece through the proper channels, usually Submittable). I haven't had a lot of luck writing pitches so far, and my submissions during official windows have been only slightly-less-frequently rejected.
So, honestly, it may not seem like a big deal or a dramatic secret, but, for what it's worth, your specific advice actually feels like a great relief!
I'm actually excited knowing I can just go ahead and write what's on my heart and *then* send it. No labyrinth riddle of "how to contort the burning mirage of what you hope your essay *might* be into a 2-paragraph pitch with a 'hook' and a 'nut graf'?" necessary 😅
I feel like sometimes the vibe that there are all these gatekeepers comes from the fact that magazines seem to have very strict, yet frustratingly ambiguous, official-looking submissions guidelines. I've sensed or worried that "real" writers knew some secret code that I somehow missed, or misunderstood.
Turns out it's just...c/p a polished essay in an email to the editor.
Seriously, thank you so much. I'm feeling very hopeful about this, for the first time in a while. Thank you!
For me it's always a balance of "My god, look at what you made! I like this and this and this about it. You're good at this!" and "What do YOU like doing?" Both of my kids had stages of feeling anxious about school and grades in spite of our telling them learning is the point and grades don't matter that much to us. So I sometimes said "Maybe you could experiment and take a break and not turn something in and see how that feels to you." I probably wouldn't have said that to a kid who wasn't turning things in regularly, to be honest. But I do think that trying to make associations between what they enjoy and how they want to feel and the choices they make is important for strengthening internal motivation. External motivation can take over when the repeating message is "this matters because I said it matters." "You get to decide what matters" can feel like a risky message for headstrong kids, and obviously it doesn't apply to everything. I was strict relative to many other parents when my kids were little, but extremely flexible in terms of how they spent their time and energy. I didn't want them to grow up with my voice or my looming judgment echoing in their heads, I wanted them to figure out how to trust their own judgment. My mother had her flaws but she was great at this "trust yourself" message, so it was easy to make those sounds.
I was also so paranoid about overscheduling and helicopter parenting that I didn't push them to participate in activities they were wishy washy about, but I have to say that I might've overcorrected in that area and probably should've gently nudged them to try more things that they might enjoy. I'm doing more of that now (they're teenagers) but I think it was a mistake to be so hands off.
It's hard to get the balance right. Being great at one thing as a parent often means failing at another thing. I guess my core approach is to talk about my own relationship to what I enjoy and what works for me: "I feel good when I exercise. I try to eat when I'm hungry. Hard work feels satisfying. I give myself a break when I'm exhausted. I made something that's weird and ugly but I love it." It sounds pretty basic, but I think the culture pulls you out of your own interests and away from your body, teaching you to court approval and success more than satisfaction and enjoyment, and this severs your relationship to what you do and make and who you are. So orienting away from what other people want and towards what you like, what makes sense to you, what feels good is pretty important as a counterbalancing force.
And when kids are like "ugh this is hard" my response is often "yeah, I would hate that, too" and also "I had trouble writing today, it must be in the air. But you'll feel so good when you're done with it." Doing hard stuff is just a basic part of being alive. Trying to notice which parts of hard work you actually enjoy WHILE you're working helps. And accepting that life is hard helps. And accepting that sometimes you just feel bad and you will always have times like that and it's not your fault also helps.
So I guess my overarching parenting message is ALL OF THIS STRUGGLE IS NATURAL and also FIGURE OUT WHAT YOU ENJOY and NOTICE HOW MUCH YOU ENJOY IT.
Love this. I frequent songwriter open mics and I gush effusively when I like what someone did. I feel like it makes other people uncomfortable sometimes and I try to tamp it down, but it’s so moving to see someone vulnerably share something beautiful.
Yes. My ridiculous version of this is that I used to watch American Idol and shed copious tears at the most vulnerable, in-the-zone performances. If someone started hitting it out of the park, my kids (little then) would always check my face to see if I was crying, and yes I always was. I think it's amazing for those songwriters to hear how much they were able to move you! It's not like you get to hear those kinds of words every day, even if it does feel a little awkward for the people who were just sipping their beers and thinking about the surface of the moon.
oh my goodness, what a beautiful, perfect sentiment for today. thank you for this.
Somewhat related: when I was a little kid, I wanted to be a writer. I turned into something else -- a visual artist -- and only really wrote for the public by crafting social media updates. I wrote furiously at home, though, privately, always. About a year ago, I floated the idea of starting a Substack to some people, and to my great surprise, I got a super positive reception. More than one person told me they loved my words and my brain. One friend of twenty years told me that he always made sure to read what I posted on social media because he knew it’d be insightful. Now, two things: I’m so grateful I got to hear that. I still haven’t started my Substack, but at least I know I’d have some readers. The OTHER thing that occupies my mind -- admittedly more greatly -- is the fact that, for years, I didn’t KNOW that ANYONE truly enjoyed my writing. I got “likes” on my posts, and occasionally someone would tell me in person that my updates were amusing, but that was it. It was shocking to hear that people genuinely loved my writing. That they even respected it. Polly mentions here that you have to tell people OUT LOUD when you see a little spark in them. I’m just reinforcing that with this comment -- I’m struck that if I didn’t voice my dreams, I wouldn’t have heard any of these words from anyone. I would’ve gone on with life thinking people tolerated my writing, at best. I try to make a point and tell people when I love their work, as often as possible. It usually feels feeble and insufficient and people are often humble and diffident, but: say the words, whenever you can. You might SHOCK someone. You might change their life.
Inspiring story! Thanks for sharing!
Very glad you enjoyed it! Now to work on that Substack... 😂
Miss Heather! You and I could hold private pep rallies for lonely souls. We could do it over zoom!!
Yes! But now all I can picture is those old-fashioned cheerleader uniforms with the long-sleeved sweaters. I can only imagine how hot and itchy that polyester blend must feel when you're trying to jump up and down and it sounds perfect... *leaves to research custom cheer uniforms for 10 hours*
Ah, yes. You had me at "Everyone is insecure and everyone is in crisis. This is true because the world is insecure and in crisis." My friend works at a startup and recently his (obviously insecure) boss wanted him to pay more attention to detail. To this end, the boss said, "companies don't get nine figure exits without attention to detail." I both want to kill that guy and also forward him this article.
What a time to be alive! The company's mission statement is AN EXIT SIGN.
Thanks for sharing. I want to skeet or toot or poot a screenshot of your comment because it's just so funny and ridiculous, but it's also so COMPLETELY BAT SHIT.
I mean: depressingly so.
Thank you for the pep rally! Rather than sit down and write my weekly Substack post, I chose to read Ask Polly. In this instance, procrastination turned out to be a wonderful choice. Now, after a dose of Polly Pep, I’m ready to write!
👏🏼💗👏🏼💗👏🏼
This is wonderful! YES.
Also - I genuinely didn't know you could just send completed essays directly to editors! Everything I've read before said to write a "brief pitch," (unless a magazine has open submissions, in which case you should submit a piece through the proper channels, usually Submittable). I haven't had a lot of luck writing pitches so far, and my submissions during official windows have been only slightly-less-frequently rejected.
So, honestly, it may not seem like a big deal or a dramatic secret, but, for what it's worth, your specific advice actually feels like a great relief!
I'm actually excited knowing I can just go ahead and write what's on my heart and *then* send it. No labyrinth riddle of "how to contort the burning mirage of what you hope your essay *might* be into a 2-paragraph pitch with a 'hook' and a 'nut graf'?" necessary 😅
I feel like sometimes the vibe that there are all these gatekeepers comes from the fact that magazines seem to have very strict, yet frustratingly ambiguous, official-looking submissions guidelines. I've sensed or worried that "real" writers knew some secret code that I somehow missed, or misunderstood.
Turns out it's just...c/p a polished essay in an email to the editor.
Seriously, thank you so much. I'm feeling very hopeful about this, for the first time in a while. Thank you!
For me it's always a balance of "My god, look at what you made! I like this and this and this about it. You're good at this!" and "What do YOU like doing?" Both of my kids had stages of feeling anxious about school and grades in spite of our telling them learning is the point and grades don't matter that much to us. So I sometimes said "Maybe you could experiment and take a break and not turn something in and see how that feels to you." I probably wouldn't have said that to a kid who wasn't turning things in regularly, to be honest. But I do think that trying to make associations between what they enjoy and how they want to feel and the choices they make is important for strengthening internal motivation. External motivation can take over when the repeating message is "this matters because I said it matters." "You get to decide what matters" can feel like a risky message for headstrong kids, and obviously it doesn't apply to everything. I was strict relative to many other parents when my kids were little, but extremely flexible in terms of how they spent their time and energy. I didn't want them to grow up with my voice or my looming judgment echoing in their heads, I wanted them to figure out how to trust their own judgment. My mother had her flaws but she was great at this "trust yourself" message, so it was easy to make those sounds.
I was also so paranoid about overscheduling and helicopter parenting that I didn't push them to participate in activities they were wishy washy about, but I have to say that I might've overcorrected in that area and probably should've gently nudged them to try more things that they might enjoy. I'm doing more of that now (they're teenagers) but I think it was a mistake to be so hands off.
It's hard to get the balance right. Being great at one thing as a parent often means failing at another thing. I guess my core approach is to talk about my own relationship to what I enjoy and what works for me: "I feel good when I exercise. I try to eat when I'm hungry. Hard work feels satisfying. I give myself a break when I'm exhausted. I made something that's weird and ugly but I love it." It sounds pretty basic, but I think the culture pulls you out of your own interests and away from your body, teaching you to court approval and success more than satisfaction and enjoyment, and this severs your relationship to what you do and make and who you are. So orienting away from what other people want and towards what you like, what makes sense to you, what feels good is pretty important as a counterbalancing force.
And when kids are like "ugh this is hard" my response is often "yeah, I would hate that, too" and also "I had trouble writing today, it must be in the air. But you'll feel so good when you're done with it." Doing hard stuff is just a basic part of being alive. Trying to notice which parts of hard work you actually enjoy WHILE you're working helps. And accepting that life is hard helps. And accepting that sometimes you just feel bad and you will always have times like that and it's not your fault also helps.
So I guess my overarching parenting message is ALL OF THIS STRUGGLE IS NATURAL and also FIGURE OUT WHAT YOU ENJOY and NOTICE HOW MUCH YOU ENJOY IT.