How leaving social media has forced me below the surface to be a better writer
What do Jack Nicholson, creative writing and the Substack community have to do with each other? Read on.
A Note: A hearty welcome to new readers and a gracious “Thank You!” to those who have recently supported me by becoming paid subscribers. What a surprise to see the emails announcing your financial gifts! It means a great deal to have my work recognized in that way, at least to cover the cost of coffee, printer paper and Blackwing Pearl pencils, aka The Basics.
“The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to see something and tell what it saw in a plain way. Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, but thousands can think for one who can see.”
—John Ruskin, From Modern Painters (1843-1860)
Glancing out the window the other day while at the kitchen sink, I thought of a clever two liner I might share on Facebook or Twitter. My thoughts probably had something to do with looking at the birds, since there are three feeders hanging right outside a window on my deck. In fact I wrote a whole book of poems about them.
As much as I would like to admit otherwise, I still find myself thinking in social media shorthand. I officially left Instagram in April 2023, Facebook in August. The only thing I miss is the opportunity to post photos of sunsets and skies and birds and gardens and trees….. So I text the pictures to my friends instead, especially if I’ve mananged to capture the flight of an Anna’s hummingbird.1
The problem with thinking in social media sound bites is it leaves someone whose work is expressed through words relying on cliches and shortcuts. This is not good for the writing muscles, whether writing in verse or prose.
Most of my work here on my Substack is sharing poetry—the title is Poetry & Made Things, after all. However, when I sketch out an essay—a ‘made thing’ (from the Greek word poiema) I’m aware of paying attention to language that is descriptive and vivid, creative in some way, mindful of considering how I can paint the ordinary in an extra-ordinary way.
Truly creative writing does not come naturally to me. If there’s a shorthand form to my work, it’s thinking in poems. Perhaps brevity makes the descriptive language come easier; I don’t know. When it comes to prose reflections, I want to get better at pausing to consider the way I describe what I see. For an abstract thinker this is an exercise, truly! I do not think concretely nor do I recall details well. If you want me to recount an experience, I will identify how I felt at the time or what the emotions were surrounding the event. Remembering the color of the sky or the quiet of the trees or the look on my granddaughter’s face—those are the particulars I need to work on embellishing—in a good way.
There’s a line in the movie “As Good as It Gets” (1997) where Jack Nicholson says to Helen Hunt, “You make me want to be a better person.” Helen Hunt’s character remarks, “That is the highest compliment anyone’s ever paid me.”
That line circulates often in my head when I’m crafting a post here on Substack. One author in particular who inspires me to be a better writer is Shawn Smucker.
“The greatest thing a human soul ever does in this world is to see something and tell what it saw in a plain way. Hundreds of people can talk for one who can think, but thousands can think for one who can see.”
—John Ruskin, From Modern Painters (1843-1860)
When I started writing online in 2012, I began following Shawn Smucker, dad of four and author of many wonderful stories. He is now the dad of six and owns a bookstore with his wife Maile in Pennsylvania—Noooks Bookstore. Find there here on Substack.
Anyway, Shawn continues to inspire me when I read his work. His Substack is “The Courage to Live It;” and his essays are always moving. He can make the passing of a beloved puppy or the simple making of pancakes into the richest, most vivid essay. Reading Shawn’s work makes me want to be a better writer.
When I think about beginning an essay or reflection now, I’m nudging myself to be more creative, leap over the ordinary and grab a dictionary or thesaurus, reach into the long file of my memory to paint a more vivid picture of what I want to say. Tiptoeing into creativity in that way is a grand adventure.
Short cuts are good if you’re driving across country, but sometimes, most times, readers want to know what you see along the way.
Live your life then write it down.
Cheers~
Jody
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Here’s a photo of that Anna’s hummingbird against the Pac NW gray…she likes the branches of our dormant honeysuckle
I resonate with this so much. I hate the way social media has rewired ny brain--not just in how I create but also in how I consume. It’s all yuck, and I’ve been trying to process it all too. Substack is a welcome respite.
I do enjoyed this essay, and wow! What a view you have...
Love this Jody! and you're right about the short snippets that no one really sees or "gets" in social media.
Although I'm still on the socials I do love the "shareable images" Substack makes for us. I throw them up on my 24 hour story on IG where some of my subscribers are. I'm not on FB much, but to check-in with old friends, & the censors at FB (or IG) do not like Substack so I don't try.
I love being on Substack the most (!) and I'm thrilled you are here! It's where you belonged all along! ox