"You find you care about your image now and how many people read your stuff. And you see other writers’ stuff that gets more likes and attention and you can’t help but wonder if it’s better and more interesting and worthy than your stuff. You start writing things solely because you think it will get an equal amount of attention, an above-average number of likes, instead of talking, with probity and care, about what fascinates you and makes you feel alive, even if it’s unpopular or weird." - there's something humbling in the fact that no matter what i write i get 10-12 likes😂according to the likes situation other writers are better than me, a priori 😅on a serious note, these platforms totaly seduce (and encourage)writers and creatives to perform instead of being themselves.
One thought (of many!) I have after reading this is, we have _different_ selves who surface in different ways with different people, almost like mini chemical reactions happening. And when you add writing to the mix — when you are able to curate and take your time to present yourself
— you're adding a whole new dimension. Some disparity between your "writer" voice and your real-life, in-person voice is going to be inevitable and that perhaps where some of the tension comes from. Just as we wonder which of our "selves" is true when we're around different people when in reality, all of them are true (unless we're being fake, which is something else altogether that you did a good job of describing imo).
2nd thought: We hear a lot of much-needed reminders that the people who write nasty comments don't really know us and that we shouldn't take it personally. But if we're worried about vanity, we can take this same principle and invert it: the people who write flattering things don't genuinely know us, either. And not only do they not know us, they aren't even aware if we are being "fake" or not: all they know is that what you wrote actually touched them and uplifted them. And _that_, I think, is the magic of writing: without ever knowing you or meeting you, other people are uplifted and inspired and edified by your words — not because you are necessarily a genius, but because you are a messenger bearing words that make a difference in their lives, big or small, in ways you will mostly never know. You must keep writing, as sincerely as you can, with the hope that your writing makes a difference to others without any expectation of what exactly that looks like. It's a tricky line to tread.
Final thought: althought they are rare, the very BEST readers will read carefully and give you nuanced feedback. They will not simply say, "You are amazing!", but they will add to your thought and maybe prod and challenge if they see a gap. They are continuing the conversation with you. I'm lucky enough to have a couple of these readers myself and I try to keep them in mind when I write; it helps with the vanity thing.
Needless to say, I loved this essay because it made me think. As long as you keep thinking, I hope you keep writing and sharing with us.
I hear the loneliness in what you wrote, and the fear of letting your real self onto the page. I lived in that place once.
My writing changed when I finally understood why I was writing at all. I didn’t publish until I knew my purpose. I have a vault of words that were born because they had to be — not for reaction, not for approval, but because they couldn’t live otherwise.
This is why I call myself a Scrollmother — a storyteller in the oldest sense. I’m carrying on a tradition eons old, the way truths and wisdoms have always been passed down: cloaked in the soft words of story. Jesus told parables. Story has always been the gentlest way to reach what cannot be touched directly.
🌿I write because story is the gentlest way I know to move past the doors of the heart that guard the ache.🌿
I don’t fit the “normal” world, and I’ve stopped trying to. I write the worlds and the wisdom I walk in. I dress to match who I am inside. I stand in the shape God gave me.
My words are my offering. I pray God uses them as He chooses.
There is a freedom on the other side of self‑monitoring. A sovereignty that feels like clear air. I hope you find your way into that space too.
You have a gift. If you let it flow to bless others you can enjoy the community that brings. I always read your essays because I enjoy both their thoughtfulness and their language. The more you dig into love and gritty service in real life, the richer your writing will be. Bless!🙏
I so wanted to hit "like" on this fine essay, but then I wondered whether that would merely reinforce the relentless regime of likeability maximization...
love how the ending of this essay really brought the idea full circle in a very satisfying way. I really do agree that the antidote to this vanity, both in writing and in our daily lives, is full, uncompromising love. It is our desire to be seen only in specific lighting that can be our downfall, and yet, being truly seen from all angles is one of the only things that can begin to combat the internal desire to dip into the shadows and hide half of ourselves.
As a creator, my work depends on how many likes and shares I get.
But trying to optimise for that, has always made me miserable (even though I love my work!). This piece of writing made me realise I’m not the only one.
From here on, I’ll try to make things that I wanna make and share with the world. Thank you for such enlightening words!
Wow🙌🏾 It's rare to get a glimpse of what it's like to be on the successful end of the writer's journey. I think I speak for many small writers when I say that you've opened our eyes. Atleast we'll be moving forward with this in mind
That second last paragraph broke my heart. I dont think i have ever experienced love like that and the thought if I ever will. How lovely to experience something like that? But also how sad if we dont get to experience it during this lifetime.
I wonder how the idea of platform affects our perception of our writing and the feeling of "vanity". There is the idea of the original promise of the Internet as this organic, democraticized, and independent connection of ideas and thinkers. The key is that each person could create their own personal funny-looking HTML page. However, companies like Facebook, Instagram, and yes, Substack, have come in and made a "walled garden", which drains the individual aspect out for sake of things like greater "reach".
Would things be different if you had a independently hosted domain, a website where you can share your writing. Of course, you wouldn't reach as many people. Yet, there is a vision for a different world, in one where we own our writing and we share it together.
- The ownership aspect feels subtle and perhaps dismisabble, but I have a sense of how *lack* of ownership would aggravate the feeling of "masking" yourself and in the process, maiming your identity and soul.
In the end, despite the many positives of Substack and how it promises us to be different and "not like the other social medias", it is still a algorithmically-driven platform where we don't have true ownership of our content.
Incredible as always Tommy. While my primary creative domain lies in the world of video, from my experiences I think everything you talked about is a universal conundrum of the artist. We create because deep down we honestly care about the message we aim to put in front of an audience, but having an audience interferes with that process. Trying to strike the balance between work that is meaningful and marketable is such a challenge with the ways online distribution has lowered the barrier to entry (especially when half the material you’re competing against is mere bread and circuses, completely lacking in any kind intellectual or spiritual nourishment). I’m given hope though to hear like-minded people such as yourself write pieces like this. I know at least for myself I have a tendency to retroactively attribute my creative drive to some fallen sense of pride and vanity, but I like to believe awareness of this is the first step of rejecting the lie and creating for a greater purpose. All that to say, great essay and keep it up!
If you cut off your write arm, you can always right with your left. Love Dad 😘
"You find you care about your image now and how many people read your stuff. And you see other writers’ stuff that gets more likes and attention and you can’t help but wonder if it’s better and more interesting and worthy than your stuff. You start writing things solely because you think it will get an equal amount of attention, an above-average number of likes, instead of talking, with probity and care, about what fascinates you and makes you feel alive, even if it’s unpopular or weird." - there's something humbling in the fact that no matter what i write i get 10-12 likes😂according to the likes situation other writers are better than me, a priori 😅on a serious note, these platforms totaly seduce (and encourage)writers and creatives to perform instead of being themselves.
Yeeeppp
One thought (of many!) I have after reading this is, we have _different_ selves who surface in different ways with different people, almost like mini chemical reactions happening. And when you add writing to the mix — when you are able to curate and take your time to present yourself
— you're adding a whole new dimension. Some disparity between your "writer" voice and your real-life, in-person voice is going to be inevitable and that perhaps where some of the tension comes from. Just as we wonder which of our "selves" is true when we're around different people when in reality, all of them are true (unless we're being fake, which is something else altogether that you did a good job of describing imo).
2nd thought: We hear a lot of much-needed reminders that the people who write nasty comments don't really know us and that we shouldn't take it personally. But if we're worried about vanity, we can take this same principle and invert it: the people who write flattering things don't genuinely know us, either. And not only do they not know us, they aren't even aware if we are being "fake" or not: all they know is that what you wrote actually touched them and uplifted them. And _that_, I think, is the magic of writing: without ever knowing you or meeting you, other people are uplifted and inspired and edified by your words — not because you are necessarily a genius, but because you are a messenger bearing words that make a difference in their lives, big or small, in ways you will mostly never know. You must keep writing, as sincerely as you can, with the hope that your writing makes a difference to others without any expectation of what exactly that looks like. It's a tricky line to tread.
Final thought: althought they are rare, the very BEST readers will read carefully and give you nuanced feedback. They will not simply say, "You are amazing!", but they will add to your thought and maybe prod and challenge if they see a gap. They are continuing the conversation with you. I'm lucky enough to have a couple of these readers myself and I try to keep them in mind when I write; it helps with the vanity thing.
Needless to say, I loved this essay because it made me think. As long as you keep thinking, I hope you keep writing and sharing with us.
Wow🙌🏾🙌🏾I love your take on this. Especially that people leaving positive comments also don't know about us.
Best measure of an essay is how it makes you think; if it imparts one more thought that had not yet come to fruition yet from one mind to another.
Yes! I like that way of putting it.
I hear the loneliness in what you wrote, and the fear of letting your real self onto the page. I lived in that place once.
My writing changed when I finally understood why I was writing at all. I didn’t publish until I knew my purpose. I have a vault of words that were born because they had to be — not for reaction, not for approval, but because they couldn’t live otherwise.
This is why I call myself a Scrollmother — a storyteller in the oldest sense. I’m carrying on a tradition eons old, the way truths and wisdoms have always been passed down: cloaked in the soft words of story. Jesus told parables. Story has always been the gentlest way to reach what cannot be touched directly.
🌿I write because story is the gentlest way I know to move past the doors of the heart that guard the ache.🌿
I don’t fit the “normal” world, and I’ve stopped trying to. I write the worlds and the wisdom I walk in. I dress to match who I am inside. I stand in the shape God gave me.
My words are my offering. I pray God uses them as He chooses.
There is a freedom on the other side of self‑monitoring. A sovereignty that feels like clear air. I hope you find your way into that space too.
Maybe try reading Malcolm Guite's "A Liturgy before Writing" - https://rabbitroompoetry.substack.com/p/a-liturgy-before-writingmalcolm-guite
You have a gift. If you let it flow to bless others you can enjoy the community that brings. I always read your essays because I enjoy both their thoughtfulness and their language. The more you dig into love and gritty service in real life, the richer your writing will be. Bless!🙏
I so wanted to hit "like" on this fine essay, but then I wondered whether that would merely reinforce the relentless regime of likeability maximization...
Damn. Right in the gut. Thank you for saying the quiet part out loud.
love how the ending of this essay really brought the idea full circle in a very satisfying way. I really do agree that the antidote to this vanity, both in writing and in our daily lives, is full, uncompromising love. It is our desire to be seen only in specific lighting that can be our downfall, and yet, being truly seen from all angles is one of the only things that can begin to combat the internal desire to dip into the shadows and hide half of ourselves.
As a creator, my work depends on how many likes and shares I get.
But trying to optimise for that, has always made me miserable (even though I love my work!). This piece of writing made me realise I’m not the only one.
From here on, I’ll try to make things that I wanna make and share with the world. Thank you for such enlightening words!
Wow🙌🏾 It's rare to get a glimpse of what it's like to be on the successful end of the writer's journey. I think I speak for many small writers when I say that you've opened our eyes. Atleast we'll be moving forward with this in mind
That second last paragraph broke my heart. I dont think i have ever experienced love like that and the thought if I ever will. How lovely to experience something like that? But also how sad if we dont get to experience it during this lifetime.
I wonder how the idea of platform affects our perception of our writing and the feeling of "vanity". There is the idea of the original promise of the Internet as this organic, democraticized, and independent connection of ideas and thinkers. The key is that each person could create their own personal funny-looking HTML page. However, companies like Facebook, Instagram, and yes, Substack, have come in and made a "walled garden", which drains the individual aspect out for sake of things like greater "reach".
Would things be different if you had a independently hosted domain, a website where you can share your writing. Of course, you wouldn't reach as many people. Yet, there is a vision for a different world, in one where we own our writing and we share it together.
- The ownership aspect feels subtle and perhaps dismisabble, but I have a sense of how *lack* of ownership would aggravate the feeling of "masking" yourself and in the process, maiming your identity and soul.
In the end, despite the many positives of Substack and how it promises us to be different and "not like the other social medias", it is still a algorithmically-driven platform where we don't have true ownership of our content.
This is so good Tommy. By exposing yourself you expose all of us, vanity, pride... all of it. Please keep writing, I love it!
Incredible as always Tommy. While my primary creative domain lies in the world of video, from my experiences I think everything you talked about is a universal conundrum of the artist. We create because deep down we honestly care about the message we aim to put in front of an audience, but having an audience interferes with that process. Trying to strike the balance between work that is meaningful and marketable is such a challenge with the ways online distribution has lowered the barrier to entry (especially when half the material you’re competing against is mere bread and circuses, completely lacking in any kind intellectual or spiritual nourishment). I’m given hope though to hear like-minded people such as yourself write pieces like this. I know at least for myself I have a tendency to retroactively attribute my creative drive to some fallen sense of pride and vanity, but I like to believe awareness of this is the first step of rejecting the lie and creating for a greater purpose. All that to say, great essay and keep it up!
"We must die to self daily." 100 %
Thank you for this heartfelt piece.