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Remember when it used to be OK to like things?

You’d read a book, see a movie, try a new dish … and tell everyone about it.

With glee.

I’m sure many of you can identify with this cartoon from Sarah’s Scribbles:

I’d venture to say it is why a number of people become writers, or take to the internet to revel in their geekery and fandoms.

Eventually, crashing into conversations with cymbals clanging isn’t “cool” anymore.

As we get to be adults, we somehow desensitize ourselves.

We don’t want to be bothered with such exuberance, unless it is something we can (and want to) be exuberant about.

Knowing that we have such a limited amount of fucks to give on any given day, we can’t waste them on such frivolity.

Which causes a serious dearth of elated feedback and promotion.

Tell me something …

Has someone ever said something nice about your writing before?

I’m seriously hoping that your answer is YES! At least one person in the world has commented kindly on something you poured yourself into and shared with humanity.

Now, let me ask … 

How great was that feeling?

I actually keep a “Yay Me” folder in my email, where I save such good notes and thoughts, for those days when I’m feeling like maybe I have no idea how to write/create/run a successful business and life.

So, how often do you tell the writers you are reading that you like their work? How often do you share it?

As I said, this weird gross thing has happened in recent years.

Being online is all about promoting ourselves. World leaders have coined the term “it’s sad” to provide social commentary on actions and initiatives. Somehow, it is better to love something fiercely without ever telling anyone about it, fearing you will appear to be fawning or leaping aboard a bandwagon.

Which is … sad.

I prefer to stick to a simple heuristic, learned from years of travel through airports and public transit:

IF YOU SEE SOMETHING, SAY SOMETHING.

Seriously, screw all those people who are above you sharing something you really enjoyed.

Who feel the need to cut down what others are doing to … I don’t know … make them feel better about themselves?

Who try to build their own bliss by draining yours.

More importantly, don’t deny some creator the joy of seeing that someone liked their work. 

People deserve to know when others are saying nice things about them. 

And frankly, these days, it can feel like there aren’t many people saying many nice things.

You can change that. 

Today.

When you are done reading this edition of TWR, I encourage you to take to your own email/social media/carrier pigeon nest/etc. and tell someone that you love something they’ve made. Share it with your world.

Make a small change in yourself to start gently shifting the world around you.

I guarantee, this is like the movie Outbreak, without the infected monkeys.

When you see something, say something. 

Others will follow.

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I am fascinated by this bar chart gif, which shows the 10 most populated cities in the world, from the year 1500 to present:

I’ve watched it at least a couple dozen times.

While there are many arguments to be made for outside circumstances like poverty and class and societal norms, the animation is also a visual representation of the movement of people to the empires dictating culture and domination.

From China starting out the 1500s (and we in the West are always taught about how brilliant we were with our Renaissance years) to the brief resurgence of the Ottoman Empire, to the rise of the United Kingdom and then the United States, coming into modern times with the resumption of power in Japan and the climb in recent years for India, there’s no doubt that we as people are a fickle species.

Ready to wander the world and often relocate to the cities and countries where exciting things are happening and the opportunities seem to be endless.

Years ago, I read an essay by Joseph Gordon-Levitt (yes, the actor) explaining why the U.S. would have a hold on leadership and power because of Hollywood. As long as Hollywood continued putting out movies and television shows about the lure of U.S. life and dreams, then people around the world would continue to believe that is how it really is.

As an American who has traveled a fair bit, I’m always amazed at how people don’t seem to understand how utterly unrealistic the ‘90s show Friends was. We all knew in the U.S. that no one could afford the lifestyle those six schlubs were swinging in NYC on their salaries; but to many others, if they could just get here, then they too could live in massive, two-bedroom rent-controlled apartments just outside of Greenwich Village in Manhattan for under $1000 per month.  

Even 20 years ago, this is laughable at best.

The point is, whoever is dominating the culture of the moment has a large audience’s attention.

But here’s the thing.

They aren’t just copying someone else.

No one moves from Beijing to London to New Delhi thinking that things are going to be the same. In each location, you’ll see new landmarks and try new food, and meet new people and wear new outfits, and take in different shows and … well, you get the point.

The same goes for your writing.

See, when we really start figuring out what we want to say and how we want to say it, we can cling too tightly.

We say silly things like “Oh, that’s not my brand” or “I’m not interested in that type of content” or various other pass-offs that don’t seem all that silly … at the time.

You don’t want to become shiny-object obsessed, changing yourself with every new whim and fancy.

But you do want to be open to new experiences and mediums and thoughts.

In barely more than 500 years, the world has shifted focus and world power at least seven to 10 times.What changes are happening in your industry or field or mind that you aren’t paying attention to (in other words, you are missing out on) because you don’t want to leave your own backyard?

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I was talking to another writer a couple weeks ago, and they launched into a diatribe that I hear far too often:

• “Ugh, I have to start that new writing project, I hate that. Writing is the worst thing in the world, it makes me absolutely miserable. But, we all have to do it, right?”

No. No, person-who-identifies-themselves-as-a-writer-but-hates-writing.

We don’t all have to do it.

Honestly, I’m never really sure what to say to this.

On one hand, I get where some people are coming from when they say it. Writing is hard. Hitting deadlines is hard. Coming up with ideas and attempting to share them in any sort of cohesive and competent manner is hard. Sitting your ass in a chair to vomit up the shittiest first draft you’ve ever written, until the next shitty first draft you’ll have to write all over again, is hard.

Things that are hard are not always the “most fun.”

(She said while working at the office on a Sunday to try to get her newsletter out on the weekend, even if it was almost 3pm.)

So, sure. We all are human and trying to connect and commiserate with each other. When you find another writer out there, it’s like collecting your herd of unicorn friends, that will understand your own special and unique struggles. While the rest of the world pulls their “Oh, it must be nice, to work from home all day in your pajamas, wish I could do that” snarls, you have someone you can text and say “But they don’t understand…having to think is legit the worst thing ever to happen to a person, ever, in the history of humanity!”

But then there’s the other, I’m hoping smaller, group of people venting this frustration.

They are the ones to whom I have no idea what to reply.

I write because my brain is a swirling mass of conversations and imaginations and short stories and essays and information and and and and and (I’ve told you before, it’s a weird place up there!) — and writing is how I made small semblances of sense in the chaotic cacophony.

That’s me.

If I were an artist, I might need to paint it out. If I were an outgoing personality who loved talking to (at) people, I might set up a podcast or a video. If I were a person who needed to looks at statistics and data and the maths behind theories to come to a conclusion, I might embrace the hell out of being an accountant or actuary.

It probably seems a bit odd to be reading this on a blog of a writer, writing to people who are interested in becoming better writers. Which, in my humble opinion, in one of the most noble pursuits a person can undertake. (Ok, my humble and totally biased opinion!)

What I’m saying instead is that if you hate hate HATE and loathe the ideation, research, prep, drafting, revising (and revising and revising and revising and…), and publishing of writing, then why?

Why on all of the good green Earth would you spend your time forcing yourself to do it?

There are sooooo many ways to share your thoughts with others – find the one you love and run with it.

It won’t always be easy, and some days the thing you love will be the thing that causes you the most angst and suffering.

If that thing is writing, then hi. Again. We’ll get through this together.

I’m always so happy to have you here.

If something else is your thing, but you like challenging yourself with new things that you can kinda tolerate, like brussels sprouts and writing short essays for online content, that’s great as well.

But seriously. If you can’t stand having to make yourself write, then don’t. Just don’t.

Life is far too short to consistently and constantly be doing things that make you miserable.

I was talking to my friend Jenny yesterday about some events from our past and working to make sure that we don’t repeat those mistakes.

“It’s like your fire pit of failure/death image,” I explained to her. “You look down a path with a new person and see the fire pit; so you want to turn to them and scream ‘WE CANNOT GO DOWN THIS PATH! IT IS THE FIRE PIT OF FAILURE/DEATH PATH! RUN AWAY!!'”

I thought about it more after we hung up. Continue reading