Earlier this year, I offered rapid-fire creative consulting sessions for readers of this newsletter. I had no idea if anyone would take me up on the offer, so I was thrilled when about ten of you did. What’s more, I ended up finding the sessions as interesting and enlightening as (I hope) the people who were actually paying for them.
A few themes emerged from these sessions, and making those connections gave me that buzzy brain sensation that arises when you connect the dots between seemingly unrelated things. And so, I’m putting together a Substack Live / workshop / session / informal online gathering around what came up, which I’m calling:
“How to get your big, swirling ideas out of your head and onto the page”
I’ll be talking about the small habits, brain tricks, guardrails, and creative rules I’ve been developing for years. Much of this stuff started when I was a freelance, and then staff, journalist who was perpetually on deadline. But in these recent sessions with readers, the act of articulating my own creative process made me see how it’s strengthened and evolved in the five years since I left journalism. Turns out in the absence of anyone asking me for copy, I’ve gotten better at making and meeting my own deadlines.
Even though this session is primarily intended for fellow writers, I can’t say it’s strictly writing advice. It’s more a method of paying attention to the world around you to make sure you don’t miss the good stuff. When I send pieces like this, this, this, and this, readers often say to me: “I was just thinking about this!” It’s like you’re in my head!” So this is my attempt at explaining how I do that. How I make connections amongst the chaos of all of the things I read, do, think, and talk about and formulate something coherent and resonant.
Of course, it’s completely unscientific, not necessarily replicable, and results are in no way guaranteed! But I find it to be an interesting, useful, and dare I say fun way to move through life. It’s also a way to build trust in yourself and how you see the world. That’s why I want to share it with you.
August discount
This bit is relevant to how you can join the workshop, so stay with me…
For the last few years, I’ve made this newsletter half price in August. It’s the cheapest way to support my work: a $15 annual subscription for the entire year (or equivalent in your local currency). I’m doing that again for the rest of this month.
As you know, I do not paywall any of the writing in this newsletter. So it is amazing to me that hundreds of you willingly pay for it despite not getting anything extra in return. I keep the cost low for two reasons: One, I make no promises about how often I publish and two, I know there are millions of ways you could be spending your money, so I’m humbled by the idea that you might give any of it to me so I can devote some time to my writing.
If you can’t upgrade today, thank you anyway for being a reader. (15,004 of you and counting!) I always marvel at the kind, respectful, and thoughtful conversations and messages that come from this audience. Seriously, just look at the comments section of my last post — you all are so self-actualized!
How to join the workshop
This workshop will take place in early September, it will be hosted on Substack Live, and it will be available only to paid subscribers. If you can’t join, I will send out the recording to the entire paid list after with some additional reading / supportive links. (I will most likely delete that recording about a month later.)
So, if you’d like to join, please upgrade your subscription any time in the next month. If you’re already a paid sub, you don’t have to do anything. Just look out for the workshop details, which I’ll send to the paid list later in August.
You might be thinking: Is this a ploy to get more paid subscribers? It’s actually more banal than that. I feel inspired by the idea of this workshop, but I do not feel inspired by figuring out a booking/payment/hosting platform because my life is complicated enough. So this felt like the path of least resistance. Also, I think $15 is a pretty good deal. And if you want to cancel your sub afterwards, I won’t notice because I never check the unsubscribes.
Six fun summer reads 🌞
Finally, for no reason whatsoever, here are six (mostly) fun, engrossing, and/or laid back reads for the rest of summer. I hope you enjoy them by a pool somewhere with a margarita.
I recently went to Ikea which made me think of
’ super fun 2011 exploration into the enormous cultural force that is Ikea. Did you know one in ten Europeans is conceived in an Ikea bed? [New Yorker]I find re-reading old New Yorker pieces deeply soothing, so here’s another one about the botanical and evolutionary wonder of figs. [New Yorker]
One for the parents: Welcome permission to chill out just a little bit about screen time. I really endorse the distinction made in this smart piece: letting your kid consume algorithmic YouTube slop is not the same thing as watching films with a proper story arc and moral universe. [Vulture]
My husband alerts me each time Texas Monthly publishes a new true crime piece. They rarely disappoint. [Texas Monthly]
In a world of Oura rings, oppressive morning routines, and sober curiosity, cigarettes are making a cultural comeback as a form of nihilistic “embodied pleasure.” This does not surprise me one bit. [NY Times]
An English professor asks his students to vote on whether or not AI should replace him at the end of the semester. This was great fun to read, and heartening too. What a great teacher. [LitHub]
You know when you go to support someone and discover you already do that you really like what they're doing.
I love this honest writing. THIS is so needed. I fairly recently joined Substack and got stuck here mainly through the thought provoking content from the Creative Destruction Substack by Thomas Klaffke. But this here, this is the type of content, which I think, has a lot of healing potential. What you're describing and role modeling, potentially, is to make things simple again and return to be a human being who (re-)connects with themselves, allowing the rhythm of life itself. I think this is a beautiful thing and it's lovely to see that in your writing and especially in this post. And I don't mean it in a romantic way, as if this just solves all problems. But it's allowing more space for trust and connection, with ourselves and beyond.