I’ve been writing for a long time. Like most writers who’ve been around a while, I've experienced success here and there. But the effort-to-tangible-reward ratio is way more often than not upside down. That’s fairly universal.
Today, however, was a good day. Just after I sat down for my morning beverage at Gate City Coffee, I got an alert that this week’s column, Bait and switch at the academy, got picked up by RealClearEducation. I was sufficiently shocked at this that I nearly snorted an entire cold brew out my nose. So I’m going to have some fun tonight. I might even end up with a few extra bucks to pay for it all!
Getting the attention of a non-partisan national aggregator is almost never a bad thing (as long, that is, as you are on the writing end of the piece). It’s nearly as memorable as having dinner with Mickey Mantle about four decades ago at the Governor’s Mansion during a black tie event sponsored by the state library association for Kentucky authors. That’s a lot of mileage between moonshine-level celebrations, but it’s like fishing: all it takes is a few nibbles to keep you going.
I have written books, magazine articles, and newspaper columns. I’ve won awards from the AP and Idaho Press Club. I paid my way through my undergraduate studies with the proceeds from a book I self-published. After all of that, I have about 1K subscribers on Substack after three years.
That’s actually OK with me because a good portion of my subscribers are literary/political/adventuring/science/music heroes to me. I wouldn’t trade any of them just for more clicks. When one of those people reaches out to me to comment on a piece, for better or for worse, I am completely humbled. You have no idea.
Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure that it’s real, even when luminaries don’t particularly approve of where I just went. Believe me, I’ve been dope-smacked by professionals. As for the rest, if you build it, they will come. For me, that occurs at a rate of about a new subscriber a day. It’s not Beatlemania, but it’ll do.
But this is about you. A few weeks ago, I wrote about stumbling toward apotheosis. From that piece:
Accomplishing hard things is less an epiphany than a series of small revelations—a step at a time in the right direction. It’s a bit Sisyphean, since the view that greets you at the top of your first mountain is of a much larger and more difficult one off in the distance. You can either rest on what you already accomplished or move ahead. If you go with what’s behind door #2, the boulder that you roll ahead of you grows bigger every time.
Writing falls into that category. And I’m here today for words of encouragement for those of you who are my size but thinking about giving up on the dream. I want you to not get discouraged. You are better than you think. Keep going.
I read a lot of pieces on Substack every day. I’m not in the same league when it comes to this as my eminent colleague, the Ivy Exile, who reads about a hundred columns a day to make the world a better place, but I’m trying. The thing I notice in what I do read is that a lot of you without large followings are really very good writers and have something to say that’s worth reading. You just need to keep on keeping on.
In a viral world of instant gratification via likes, clicks and shares, near anonymity can be discouraging. If this is you, it’s probably not just you; it’s that it’s a busy landscape. Also, there’s no accounting for taste. Just ask Tucker Carlson. That guy may be famous, but he’s an attention whore and little more. I’d rather be mostly unknown and be able to maintain some self-respect. TC is living proof that you can do worse than not being particularly famous. Don’t go down that road. It’s littered with bodies.
But what about what’s behind door number two? For what it’s worth, if you want to ponder a little on a Friday evening how to get from where you are to where you’d like to be, and you are open to some commiseration with the likes of me, you should think about three things.
You must read a lot (it’s very easy to spot writers who don’t read much, and I don’t mean that as a compliment). Reading is what helps you initially develop your own unique voice—something that’s crucial for success. I don’t know a writer worth their salt who is not also an avid reader. The two simply go hand in hand. It’s also joyful. There’s nothing better than giving something to the world that’s as good as Heart of Darkness was for you. And you wouldn’t know anything about it unless you’d read that book.
The second thing is that you must write, a lot. You must develop the ability to take a lucid thought from the opaque confines of your own noggin and render it in clear enough, compelling enough, and interesting enough prose to capture the attention of others. A vocabulary (developed from reading) and some facility with grammar (also developed from reading) help with this immensely.
The last thing is that you must write for you and only you. And you must pursue this path fearlessly. Everyone in the world knows two things: their own name and how much more they know about what you just wrote than you do. Let those nimrods do all the work that you did to get 1K followers on Substack, and they can put up with people just like themselves while you laugh at them. There are some legitimate critics out there with things to say that will help you. But those people are almost invariably polite and good conversationalists. The snark almost always comes from wannabes who would kill to have your 1K followers. Screw ‘em.
You are never as bad as your critics say, but you are also never as good as you might imagine that you are either. You have to keep at it. There are some parallels with music that are worth noting. 1) Practice, practice, practice and more practice make ideas tolerable. Inspiration on top of practice makes them magical. Anyone can play some of the easier Pat Metheny pieces with enough practice, but they aren’t going to sound like Pat without getting some of the holy spirit. 2) Bad gigs happen. To everyone. Just try not to have two in a row. 3) The world doesn't care about labor pains; all it wants to see is the baby. Quit whining about stage fright and writer’s block and get out there. Write! 4) Almost anyone can imitate the Beatles, but just try imagining their music before they came along and played it for you. Instead of trying to be the next Lennon-McCartney, work on being the first you. 5) Persistence goes a long way. A thick skin helps. If I were weighting these, persistence would be greater than 20%.
Years ago, I pulled out a guitar for the first time to play for paying customers. I was scared shitless. Just before I went on, a buddy of mine, a really talented musician, pulled me aside and told me, “I think you can pull it off.” I’ve never forgotten that. So tonight I’m here to tell you that I think you can pull it off. Just keep plugging away.
Now get to it. For me, it’s time for some ‘shine.
Associated Press and Idaho Press Club-winning columnist Martin Hackworth of Pocatello is a physicist, writer, and retired Idaho State University faculty member who now spends his time with family, riding bicycles and motorcycles, and arranging and playing music. Follow him on X at @MartinHackworth, on Facebook at facebook.com/martin.hackworth, and on Substack at martinhackworthsubstack.com.
That's a great piece love it Ted Lasso! By the way "I think you can pull it off" is what I've said to myself right before every of the 40 plus bones I broke. Keep on trucking Mr. Natural!
Keep rolling that rock up the hill until at the top you can see the next mountain. And then keep rollin’. Up. And occasionally, take a ‘shine break as is your due.