If You Want to Be a Great Writer, Be a Teachable One

Not that long ago, someone posted a screencap of an interaction from Medium's private note function to one of the writing groups I belong to. The screencap showed a polite, very standard rejection note from the editor of one of Medium's bigger pubs. And below it was a horrible, vitriolic response from the writer basically cussing the editor out and telling him to go fuck himself. As a writer who writes and submits many places, Medium included, that shocked the shit out of me -- all that anger triggered by someone saying they'll pass on a piece this time but are looking forward to reading future submissions. 

I am familiar with the publication in question and that editor, so I can certainly say he was the last person who deserved to be spoken to like that. This editor found a self-published Medium piece of mine last summer and encouraged me to let him add it to his publication. The owner of the pub then championed that article and promoted the holy heck out of it. The original editor also continued to leave me kind, encouraging notes when it did well. 

That piece became my highest earner, and I owe that to the team behind that pub. This particular editor is also among the friendliest and most considerate I've ever interacted with on Medium. He's always cool about it when he does decide to reject a submission, and he's a total professional. So the writer who told him off really stepped in it, as Medium editors tend to know one another and talk behind the scenes. If you want to get ahead as a writer -- on Medium or anywhere else -- don't be like that writer. Be gracious, be teachable, and keep points like the following in mind.

Rejections are normal, common, and happen to everyone. 

Listen, I get it. It never feels good to work up the courage to show your work to someone and ask them to publish it only to have them say they're not interested or, worse, to rip it apart. But it comes with the territory when you hope to be published by someone other than yourself. Even writers like Stephen King have stories about the many rejection letters they've gotten over the years, so yes. It really does happen to everyone.

On Turning Forty-Fucking-Five

So, it's my birthday tomorrow. I'm hoping it's a vast improvement on last year's, and so far, so good. As I'm sure everyone remembers all too well, right about this time last year, COVID officially reached pandemic status. Everyone was panic-buying toilet paper, pasta, beans, and just about anything else they could get their hands on. And, like everyone else, I was having terrible trouble even wrapping my mind around the fact that we were facing a fucking plague of biblical proportions.

Unfortunately for us, we were almost entirely out of food at the time, as I was waiting until closer to my birthday to do some shopping. That turned out to be a huge mistake, as none of the stores had a damn thing left. Not even a can of beans or a package of hamburger, let alone the lobster ravioli and pesto sauce I wanted for my birthday dinner or the corned beef I wanted for St. Patrick's Day. I somehow managed to score a lemon bundt cake for dessert, but that's all, and the pickings stayed pretty slim around here for a while.

I've been hyper-paranoid about running out of food ever since. I was never someone who believed the fridge and pantry had to be stuffed as full as possible to feel like there was enough to eat, but now I totally am. I'm still careful not to waste food and to make sure everything gets eaten promptly, but I grocery shop every week now, whether we really need it or not. I'm also extra-prepared this year for all our upcoming festivities. I have a heritage-breed ham and a corned beef hanging out in the freezer for Easter and St. Patrick's Day, respectively. And you bet your ass I have that lobster ravioli and fresh pesto I didn't get last year in the fridge already.

I'm turning 45 this year, which just feels plain odd. I still think of 45 as my parents' age, even though they're both well into their 70s by now. I've loved being in my 40s for the most part, though. I'm saner, more grounded, and more grateful at this age by a landslide. I actually stick with things that I start now -- positive things like daily exercise, balanced eating, productive writing routines, and regular quality time spent with my husband. I feel dangerously close to being one of those people who have their shit together, and it's a nice feeling after being so restless and undisciplined most of my life. 

On Being Female and Writing on the Internet

A funny thing happens when you go from no one giving a flying fuck who you are or what you write about to actually having an audience somewhere that's growing, no matter how slowly. Suddenly, you're no longer just writing for yourself or for a handful of friends who would be interested in almost anything you put out there because they're interested in you. You're writing for people who know nothing about you beyond what they can glean from your content. 

Most are also less interested in you as a person and more interested in what you can teach them or how reading you can make their lives better. Some of those people will be total strangers, and it turns out the experience of writing for such people is a mixed bag. You often get to find out what others honestly think of you because they'll tell you in no uncertain terms sometimes. Hopefully, you've got a thick skin and a relatively down-to-earth mental image of who you are and what you're really about because you will need them.

The vast majority of the folks who interact with my content or decide to get in touch with me outside of Medium because of something I wrote are lovely. They enjoy my writing, get something useful out of it, and want to thank me for writing it in the first place or ask me a question about something I said. I've also had people point out specifics that they enjoy in my work that make me look at myself in a different, more positive light. One of the things I hear the most often is that people dig my authenticity and my strong sense of self. I've even had certain individuals, especially other women, tell me the way I present myself inspires them, and that makes me feel pretty darned good about being me.

But there are always a few sour apples in every barrel. As a heterosexual woman on the internet who frequently writes very frankly on topics like relationships and dating, I've attracted my share of incels and "nice guys" who feel personally attacked by some of the things I have to say. They especially don't want to hear those things from a woman who's attractive, happily married, and old enough to have been around the block a couple of times. It makes it harder to default to insulting my looks or pointing out that I'm single or divorced as proof that I don't know what I'm talking about. They're forced to actually consider my words instead, and that's not something overgrown man-babies like to do. At all.