The thrill and disappointment of submitting personal essays

Behind the keyboard #1

Hey friends,

Rather than only share polished final drafts with you, I think it could be fun to share some behind-the-scenes (or behind-the-keyboard) tidbits about how I’m getting on with my creative non-fiction writing journey.

I’ve been tinkering with a few personal essays for months now. I’ve contemplated whether I should publish them here or submit them to sites like The New York Times, The Washington Post, and Oprah.

My issue with submissions is that sometimes you have to wait months before hearing back, and often when you get a response (if you ever do), it’s a rejection. I never take it personally, but sometimes I regret waiting to put my words out into the world. I also question whether I’ll still be OK with having some of my deepest thoughts and feelings on display years from now. Self-publishing makes me feel more in control.

The upside is that if your essay gets accepted, the chances of reaching a bigger audience (i.e., more people going through or who have gone through something similar) are, of course, much higher. At least they are for someone like me, whose Substack has been hovering around 920 subscribers for the last few months.

When I started writing personal essays, I hadn’t really reflected on what I was hoping to get out of the process. I had just created a goal for myself to learn how to write them and to get at least one published in my lifetime, but since succeeding (only once so far, at the time of writing this), I’ve felt motivated to keep trying. Not because I want my name splashed across some of the most-read websites (that’s a perk, of course, especially if I eventually want to write a book, plus it’s validating—I’m human!), but the main driver for me now is to connect with people (lovely readers like you). That was the highlight of having one of my essays about my mom’s Alzheimer’s published in HuffPost. It was nice to receive emails, DMs, and comments from readers who are experiencing or who have experienced something similar.

I think it’s also about legacy for me. It feels a bit cringy to admit that. Like, who am I to assume that anyone will care about what I leave behind? Do you relate to this?

Hello from an Airbnb apartment in Ocala, Florida. I’m here visiting my mom for a few weeks. This selfie photo feels very relevant for a “behind the keyboard” post. Lol.

Just before typing up this newsletter, I sent an essay I had started in early April to The Washington Post’s “Life” column and Oprah Daily. I could probably rework the essay for another six months, but I was beginning to feel like a dog chasing its tail. It’s another one related to dealing with my mom’s long goodbye (about the first time I fed her). I’ve found it interesting to see how the same few themes repeat themselves in the essays I’ve worked on so far. I think eventually I’ll be able to link them all together (maybe that’s my book???). Or that’s just life. Who knows.

I enjoy the process, though. Writing personal essays is like dumping a glass of water on the table and then figuring out how to get it all neatly back into the glass. They’re a way to work out the details of a situation and how it made you feel, what you learned, how it transformed you, and what you’re still confused about. At least that’s my experience.

Anyhoo, I’m not really sure what I’m getting at here. Perhaps I’m just checking in to see how you feel about all this and what your journey with writing and submitting personal essays has been like. What tips or questions do you have for me and other readers? Shall we discuss in the comments?

See you soon.

Alexis