Writers Without Data
Trying to write without focusing on KPIs is impossible in a world that is dangerously obsessed with data and metrics.
 |
Thank you for being a subscriber! This is a small newsletter with dreams of one day growing into something a little bigger. If you like what you have read, please share it on whatever social platforms you’ve chained yourself to. Your support truly means more to me than I can put into words. If you hate what you’ve read, share it anyway! I am not too proud to grovel for hate-clicks.
When you fashion yourself as a Writer™ there are a number of neuroses and expectations that come with that territory. You must be always True To Yourself, creative but aloof, simultaneously inspired & inspiring. The material realities are often diametrically opposed to these expectations. I’d love nothing more than to write about all the nuances of capitalism and how they work together to drive us collectively insane, interspersed with silly movie reviews written by a (slightly?) exaggerated version of my unabashedly bimbo self.
But as much as writers would like to trick ourselves that we are immune to the whims of statistics and numbers and KPIs, your ability to survive as a writer is contingent upon those things. Every day Substack emails me about “growing my audience” and the “right time to go paid.” I cringe when I receive these emails - a reminder that this little passion project of mine must be monetized in order for me to be considered a “real writer” by society.
But it isn’t just society - I internalize these messages as well. Even while on vacation, I worry about what news I’m missing that I could be writing about to help further my goals with this newsletter. I worry that little fun asides like “Bimbo Reviews” will lose subscribers who are only here for a shared nihilism about capitalism. I worry that my endless droning about capitalist nihilism will alienate my more normie readers (I see you out there and I love you - I wouldn’t wish this brain disease known as “Chronic News Ingestion Syndrome” on anyone). I tell my therapist about nebulous, seemingly unquantifiable goals I have for my writing, such as, “Make enough money to not feel bad about my lack of contribution to the household income.” I don’t know what that magical monetary number is for me, someone who left a six-figure income and relinquished their household breadwinner status in order to write “Elle Woods Reviews A24 movies” posts as a bit.
Writers are expected to constantly exemplify the rose-colored glasses view of writing as a career: Struggling because we stick uncompromisingly true to our vision, wavering not for the whims of the market - even if personally, materially, we are very much dependent on the whims of the market. Writers should be sadly chain-smoking on a gloomy rooftop a la Margot Tenenbaum, staring down at a typewriter with a sort of permanent ennui. Which is why when writers do finally have some nebulous form of success, other people feel a need to label them sellouts - like when Charlie Warzel announced he was leaving Substack to write a newsletter for The Atlantic:
This is the eternal push and pull of being a writer - constantly writing for approval of an audience that we are supposed to pretend has no bearing on our creative vision. Which is why I’ve spent a non-zero chunk of my time in one of the most beautiful cities in the world (San Diego) contemplating things like freelance tax structure and platform sustainability and content mix.
It’s why I’m writing this newsletter at all today - I’m still on vacation, but sitting in standstill traffic on the 101 (arguably the least inspiring place in the world). The 101 may not be the best place to wax poetically about the nuances of writing in a capitalist world. But all writers know that the urge to write comes pouring out at the strangest and most inopportune times, an unpredictable brain lottery that says, “You’ve been chosen for productivity today, so you better get those words out on paper before you find yourself in a months-long relationship with writer’s block and its best friend: impostor syndrome.” I’m grateful for every day that these words flow easily, like today. I’m begrudgingly grateful for the days where they don’t - days where I fight for every word and re-write every sentence and delete entire drafts out of frustration. I just wish society recognized that process as a necessary part of the work of writing.
Part of being permanently incapable of shutting out the news cycle part of your brain is that even while you’re on vacation, you still consume a large amount of Content. Here is some of the content I enjoyed reading while on vacation this past week:
Sam Grasso for Discourse Blog: “The Hell of Trying to Get Paid Medical Leave In America”
As soon as I read this piece I reached out to Sam on Twitter to tell her just how much this resonated with me - it mirrors my experience with FMLA & short-term disability (a topic I’ve briefly touched on previously) almost identically. I’ve wanted to spend more time diving into the disability/FMLA process I experienced, but Sam does such an excellent job that I’m not sure I need to anymore. In her piece, she lays out exactly why this process is so horrific and directly contradictory to its purpose for existence. People who need to take disability leave should be able to do so without wasting the precious time they should be using to heal, instead navigating endless phone trees and fax machines:
It was a horrible process. Even though he needed to start his leave very, very urgently, Christian waited for weeks for a response from the insurance company in charge of his disability claim. He had to go to a doctor and describe everything that was happening to him: the physical symptoms, the medication that wasn’t working very well, the severe mental stress the pandemic and his job were putting him through. He’d also get calls from his case manager, asking him to clarify parts of his claim — there were issues with him saying the stress was work-induced in addition to being pandemic-induced. Then his doctor needed to fill out another form, and it had to be submitted in this specific way, and then there was another form, and another call from the insurers asking for more information. It was this never-ending cycle of “will I get 60% of my salary paid out to be while I take a break from this suffering,” and it lasted about a month before he eventually took his leave. All the while, Christian’s anxiety continued growing. He was clearly desperate to stop working but unable to take off without knowing his income situation.
To read more from Sam and the other talented writers at Discourse, click here and subscribe.
Heather Havrilesky for Ask Polly: “Should I Just Give Up On My Writing?”
This was a timely read for me, given the thoughts I shared above and my general feelings about the monetization of creative endeavors. Heather Havrilesky, the voice behind Ask Polly, writes her advice column with a mixture of genuine empathy and knowledge that reminds me of curling up on the couch with a cup of hot tea while a friend tells me, in the kindest way possible, the tough truths I sometimes need to hear. When a fellow writer asks why they haven’t seen the same level of breakthrough success as others in their circle, her advice was simple and (as so much great advice does) came in the form of a question:
So what do you imagine that “breaking through” will do for you? If “breaking through” means being “chosen by Oprah” and selling lots of books and having a lot of Twitter followers, then it’s clear enough why you’ll never be motivated by that vision. It’s an arbitrary, abstract vision that has nothing to do with how you want to live or what you actually want to express or bring to the world. I would submit that you’ve created this imaginary “finishing line” because you’re tired and you need a giant golden carrot to keep you moving forward.
If you’re a writer or artist or creative person and your work is an arbitrary means to an end, you will not bring enough raw magic to your work to stand out from the crowd. There’s a reason a lot of your successful friends are “lovely odd ducks for whom you’d never predict bonkers mainstream success.” Those are people who do the work they love passionately, who bring the full force of their personalities to every project, and the world embraces them with equal passion. Those are not people who are trying to “connect” with some imagined audience. They’re fucking weirdos who are foisting their weird creations on the world without apology.
If you enjoyed this post, subscribe to Ask Polly here.
Libby Watson for Sick Note: Your Teeth Are Not Luxury Bones
In early 2019, at age 30, I went to the dentist for the first time in my adult life. I had excruciating jaw pain that I knew was caused by wisdom teeth I could not afford, and frankly did not have the time, to deal with. I knew that having not gone in for regular cleanings would mean a lecture from the dentist about the importance of dental maintenance. I knew that even with my (pretty good!) insurance I would be out quite a lot of money. They found 5 wisdom teeth (most people have 4 or less), and the extraction itself ended up being significantly more difficult than the dentist had predicted. The recovery was horrible. Because I have the privilege of being one of few Americans not only to have dental insurance, but also the funds to cover what insurance didn’t, I received a bill for over $1,000.
Fast forward nearly 3 years later, and my wisdom teeth are gone. Well, I thought they were. During my most recent X-Rays my dentist remarked, “Didn’t we remove five wisdom teeth? You’ve got another in there. Huh.” His nonchalance leads me to believe this won’t cause any long-term problems. If there was a remotely reasonable excuse to extract that extra wisdom tooth, I’m sure he’d have found a way to bill me for that.
He did finally convince me to fork over more money for Invisalign - he first suggested it after my wisdom tooth extraction, but my employer-sponsored insurance didn’t cover adult “cosmetic” procedures (despite my dentist’s assurances that this was needed for much more than cosmetic purposes). It was going to be $5,000 out of pocket. I politely declined. A year later, my employer switched insurance providers, and suddenly “cosmetic” solutions like Invisalign were covered - and great news, the dentist happened to be running a 50% off promotion! What would have cost me $5,000 in 2019 suddenly - almost arbitrarily - now cost me $1,200.
This is the experience of someone who has access to some of the best dental insurance available in this country. On the flip side, is Francis, a treatment coordinator at an orthodontic practice in Philadelphia that focuses primarily on Medicaid patients. Watson’s interview with Francis highlights just how wasteful & inhumane the American view of dental care is in this country:
Jaw surgery happened to be one of the things Francis mentioned as particularly galling for poor patients, specifically for treating an underbite. If it’s caught while a child is still growing, surgery can be avoided—but orthodontic treatment is still expensive if it isn’t covered. If the parent doesn’t, or can’t, fork over thousands of dollars at that point, it could cost even more down the road to get the painful surgery.
The same dynamic plays out over and over with his patients. The struggle to get plans, private or Medicaid, to cover orthodontic work—even when it’s very clearly necessary and will just cause more problems in the future—is just one area where money “saved” is not really saved at all. Often, he said, plans will reject patients who score very highly on the scale used to assess the need for treatment; other times, they don’t. Patients who haven’t been able to afford regular visits need huge amounts of work, but that very inability to afford or attend regular visits makes it difficult to impossible to actually treat the problems they’re having.
To read more and subscribe to Sick Note, click here.
Imelda Garcia for Dallas Morning News: “Less than 20 miles separate Dallas communities with the lowest and highest life expectancy”
This is excellent reporting from Imelda Garcia that highlights the life expectancy disparities between two Dallas communities - one predominately low-income and heavily minority, the other with a household income roughly twice the Dallas County median. She contrasts the availability of key services like medical centers and grocery stores in both cities, and highlights that employment-sponsored insurance for those in the wealthier neighborhoods is a key factor in ability to access healthcare. While stopping short of calling for what is truly needed - Medicare For All, in particular - she correctly notes that individual action is not the answer:
Seçkin said that although individuals may have better overall health in communities with more economic resources, no one is exempt from the chance of facing a chronic illness or health crisis.
The difference, she said, is in having a way to deal with it.
“Let’s say if I’m making six figures, $200,000, $300,000 or if I’m a millionaire, making more money is not going to substantially increase my health,” Seçkin said. “But if I’m making $30,000 or $40,000, increasing my income level does make a difference. That’s why our leaders need to work on this, so that there’s less inequality.”
Seçkin said placing the sole responsibility for health on each individual — by simply recommending dieting, exercise or better sleep, for example — misses the point. Communities that address inequities, she said, can help individuals make the healthier choices they may want to make and improve health outcomes for all.
Read more from Imelda Garcia here.
That’s it for today’s newsletter! If you liked what I had to share today, please share it with someone else who might appreciate it. As always, thank you for your support!
Create your profile
Only paid subscribers can comment on this post
Check your email
For your security, we need to re-authenticate you.
Click the link we sent to , or click here to log in.