#1: Write, then.
Hi friends,
Here’s to new creative endeavours, may they be unbridled, may they push boundaries, may they be given grace for any typos or loose interpretations of English grammar.
Ready? Let’s get going.
What’s on my mind: a micro-essay on (anti)social media
When my Mum refused to sign up for Facebook circa 2008 with the rest of the world, we laughed. Told her she’d regret her obstinacy. Told her she’d come around.
Today, I open Instagram with eyes half-closed. I scroll quickly, before the all-too-familiar footage of international war crimes clarify and burn into my mind. If I squint, I can pretend they are further away than they appear. I feel the rise and fall of righteous anger at the state of the world and its atrocities and I tell myself this is a platform I need to keep if I am to call myself an activist. Truthfully, I am not an activist, not even close to one, and the unfettered rage burns through me like a candle until I am nothing but a puddle on the floor.
I type the URL (I deleted the apps from my phone months ago, in an act of performative disconnection, but the cookies on my laptop know where to take me). I’m searching quickly, frantically, for a hit of personal connection, seeking to fill my heart with updates from people I love and inspiration for the creative, grounded life I aspire to live. The residue of comparison this hit leaves on my skin takes days to wash away. The feeling of “they’re out there living and I’m just waiting for my turn” hollows me out from within and leaves me numb. I’m certain I must leave this digital space; tell the heartless algorithm it’s not me, it’s them.
But, then,
I see others in the mire, struggling to keep their chins above the surface. Swimming against a tide they know would drown them in a second with one abrupt change in direction. The small business owners, the charities, the (actual) activists trying to make a difference in the world, trying to build communities. Their need for support in this world - one that sees people as products and does everything it can to stop them breaking from the production line - is what keeps me turning up and logging in.
Despite my frustration that every baby group, social circle and independent contractor communicates almost exclusively through social platforms now, my need for connection with those communities keeps me locked in to the ecosystem.
I dance daily with my own ego and the idea of “personal branding”; of monetising hobbies a younger me would have done simply for the love of creation and exploration.
I perceive life in frames and witty captions, though no-one would know. My gut screams that we’re going in completely the wrong direction, that technology is destroying our ability for human connection. So I don’t post anything that “adds to the noise”, I just lurk.
I’m a social ghost, watching over shoulders but never really, truly, showing myself. I’m caught in the in-between, wishing these platforms were not such an intrinsic part of our lives, but still wanting their neverending dopamine hits.
It’s 2024 and Mum still doesn’t have social media. She has missed reels of grandchildren playing at the seaside, first-hand updates on key life events from distant family members, and invites to parties from friends who didn’t think to text those who might not see event notifications. She remains resolute and, whenever I find myself sitting in a room and noticing the universal twitch response to that familiar pocket vibration, I wish things were different for the rest of the world. The ones who laughed as we opened the door and welcomed the wolf in; who gave every piece of ourselves willingly and naively. The ones who now find these insatiable platforms - unsurprisingly - refusing to treat us with the respect we deserve as partners in their creation.
When I watch my Mum sit with my son, phone nowhere to be seen, absorbing herself completely in his world of make-believe and storytelling, I want to record it so I never forget. But I take a breath, put my phone away and choose not to. At least, not always. And never for social media.
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Will I set up an Instagram account for this newsletter, and my writing more generally? I have no idea. I’m not naive enough to think that a community can be built easily without social media, but I’m also aware of how it consumes my time and mental resources and I want to devote what little I have of those, outside of everyday working mum responsibilities, to writing. Not captions, not video scripts, actual writing that fills my cup and leaves my brain in a happy place. If you like my work, the best way to support it is to share this newsletter (which will always be free to read) and encourage others to subscribe. Thanks!
Has someone forwarded you this email? Click the link below to subscribe if you’d like to be added to the list (frequency TBC - I am a frazzled working mum doing the best I can!)
What I’m writing (the accountability bit)
I recently completed round 3 of NYC Midnight’s short story competition after making it to the final 376 out of a starting pool of 6,145 writers! I’ll find out whether I made it to the final round on 24th July, but even if I don’t I am incredibly proud of making it this far. My round 2 story “Better times ahead” got almost unanimously positive feedback from the judges so I’m feeling confident enough to try and submit it somewhere. It’s an action/adventure piece based on the prompts “whistleblower” and “plan b”. If you would like to read it make sure you’re subscribed (link above) and I’ll let you know whether it’s accepted and where.
Inspired by the creative experimentation that the NYC midnight prompts encouraged, I’m entering another competition. This time, it’s the Inspired by Art Flash Fiction 2024 contest run by Globe Soup. I only bought one submission ticket initially as I didn’t scroll down and therefore didn’t realise that the beautiful artworks were on display from the start. Now I’ve seen the inspiration prompts I’m tempted to submit a second idea… Are you signed up for this one? Which artwork have you been inspired by? I’d love to hear! (You should be able to reply directly to this email) Deadline: 15th July 2024
I’m tempted to submit a few pieces for the upcoming issue of Motherlore magazine, a project that I’ve absolutely relished receiving through the post since the first edition. Writing about my experience of motherhood has been enormously cathartic, especially through some very difficult times recently, and reading shared experiences feels like the most intimate form of connection. Theme: BODY, Deadline: 15th September 2024
Building my “village”: events and interactions and real, other people, oh my!
Social anxiety has been a little high lately after a rocky, hormonal few weeks, but last Thursday I put on my big girl pants and signed up with 45 minutes to go before the No Book Book Club, run by M/Otherwords.
Folks: running late causes me disproportionate stress, I can also occasionally be a little distracted in the day to day and miss a few details, but never have I turned up to an even a full two months early before.
Let’s just say I’m looking forward to sinking into the discussions at the No Book Book Club when it finally comes around… ;)
What I’m reading/ newsletters I love
I want to use this space to give a virtual high-five to other writers and creatives whose emails drop into my inbox like long-awaited sunbeams. These aren’t paid-for promotions, I just want to shine that light a little further for others to bask in for a moment over their morning/afternoon/midnight coffee. :)
Laura Lamn - self-described “folk singer and seamstress, inspired by nature in the Garden of England (Kent). [Her] current interest is in neurobiology and the nervous system in relation to mental health.” I love Laura’s updates on her work with Singing Mamas (an organisation I hold very dear to my heart, which I’m sure I’ll share more about before too long).
Laura McCorry, author of The Mindful Postcard - per her bio, she’s a “writer, yoga teacher, and baking enthusiast. [She] love[s] complex books and people, like the perfect chocolate chip cookie: crunchy on the outside and gooey on the inside.” I’m not sure how I stumbled across Laura’s writing (Fate? A rare, benevolent algorithm?)but it truly does feel like receiving a postcard from a friend, and I love it.
Did you enjoy my first foray into the role of newsletter writer, publisher and editor-in-chief? Please consider subscribing and sharing with others who might want a writing accountability buddy, without the need to add “social content creator” to the ever-growing to do list.
Until next time, folks, whenever that will be! (Mum life…)
AmyElise