Why I Still Write in A World That's All About Scrolling

Sadly, the Joan Didion + Sylvia Plath + Hemingway eras are dead

This one’s for my writers, because we’re here on Substack after all, aren’t we? So I know we all get it when I say: some of us did not come here (to this world) to sit at a desk and be normal. We came here to be wacky and weird, to stab our hearts a little until they bleed out onto the page (yeah maybe we’re a bit dramatic and that’s okay too, the best writers are), and to turn our thought spirals into books and poetry and art and long form thought bubbles that make people actually feel something.

That’s right, we are here to make people feel something in a world that has so desperately tried to get us to stop feeling at all. I don’t know about you, but I feel like the age of hustle is dying, and I happen to be thrilled about it. People as a whole are actually wanting to return to simplicity and depth. I see it here on Substack all the time—writers with the most brilliant, original, breathtaking thoughts and fascinating takes and life changing cultural musings that actually give me goosebumps all over.

I see it with all ages, but especially the young writers on this platform who very simply could have fallen into that Gen Z bucket of having grown up on immediacy thus lacking their own depth and breadth… yet here they are, brilliantly and poignantly breaking down literature and art and culture and health and politics and all the things that spark their spirit’s fancy. It’s inspiring! Meanwhile, over in IG & TikTok land, all of the social media experts are telling us to post, post, post until something randomly goes viral, but that’s not how true inspiration ever strikes.

That’s why so much of the online space as a whole feels rather ~dead~ and uninspired right now if you ask me, because it’s so much of the regurgitated “this is what I should do” kind of vibes rather than authentic, stop you in your tracks, real creativity. I think everyone feels it. Especially the artists though; we’re the canaries in the coal mine. We’re seeing 10 steps ahead where others miiightt see it all in a few years—the old way is dying, the new way is coming. & being at the forefront of the new way is the place to be. It always is!

So, what’s the new way, you ask?

I believe that the new way will come from being truly inspired. Not fake inspired and not ‘inspired for the sake of having a cool Instagram feed.’ Like, actually inspired. Old school inspired. Doing things you actually LOVE to do because you love to do it, not because the world told you you should love it. Also doing what you love not for the sake of making money or turning it into a side gig (although that works too), but genuinely doing it because you LOVE it.

Inspiration for me comes when I’m out walking after a long day with my kids, sweating in a hot yoga class, spiraling about that strange interaction with a former friend, dancing in my backyard under the moonlight, doing mushrooms in the forest with my husband, voice-noting ideas to myself at red lights. You know, real life stuff. Artist making stuff. Not sitting at a laptop or my clicking away into my iPhone trying to churn out content until the cows come home.

And for now, before it catches on as the new wave, I get it. It’s hard! It’s not easy to be an old school, long form, literature loving writer in the age of social media and the constant doom scroll, with an algorithm that prioritizes short form content that rewards you for not making people think—pretty much at all. However, that’s also why we do it. The world needs us more. than. ever. More than ever!!! You hear me? Stay with me here, because I am definitely talking to you.

I often reflect on the eras of Joan Didion, Ernest Hemingway, Zelda Fitzgerald, Sylvia Plath, etc. and think, “Imagine all that time they had on their hands to just write and think—there was no social media to keep up with! There were no cell phones, they had no idea where the hell their friends were so they were never worried about missing out! Text messages, emails, phone calls to field? Nada. They could sit in the forest, gaze into the lake all day and pour their hearts onto the page… all the time. Wouldn’t it be NICE to be a writer in that era? I WAS MEANT FOR THAT ERA!!!”

*cue the writerly drama I told you about*

But then I come to my senses. I think about how hard it must have been to get their work out to the masses. It took some serious fame (and luck and access?) to get their books into an audience’s hands, and with us it’s as easy as the click of a button—literally. I know I’ve told you guys the stories about me blogging for hours and hours a day as early as 4th grade because the AOL chatrooms made that possible. I know at the end of the day that’s why I chose to come here, in the Age of Aquarius, to take advantage of the immediacy and the incredible forms of abundant connection we all have with one another here. And the endless opportunities for monetizing our passions, thanks to the online world.

Considering I came here, to earth, to spill my soul to people and connect… I think we’d have a problem if I wasn’t able to truly reach people the way I want to. And I still get annoyed with the algorithms for keeping so many of us in a box when ideally we’d be reaching even more people, but we’ll get to that on another day.

And even though writing in this era has its immense perks (like the immediacy and the internet connection culture!), I want to analyze this deeper. Because let’s be real, I am nothing if not a psycho analyzer. What does it actually mean to be a writer in 2025? Really, what does it mean? Because the Joan Didion, Sylvia Plath era is dead. Sadly. Long gone; gone with the wind.

To write, to really write, in a world that’s become obsessed with brevity and immediacy, has become an actual act of rebellion. To drop into the marrow of what really matters while everything around us screams for speed and to harp on the things that don’t matter. (I love celeb culture as much as the next person, I am actually obsessed with it, but does it matter the way our creativity matters? No. Does the world as we know it want to actively pry us away from our own inner light, power, and divine creative spark? Yes.)

As a writer, there are may days when it feels like I’m speaking a dying language. Years ago social media was different—from 2011-2020ish, people read long Instagram captions! Bloggers like me could release a 4 part series on IG and tell a meaningful story or share a huge breakthrough, and the algorithm was such that our audiences would actually see it, engage with it, and get to know us (and us them) on deeper levels.

Now, people do not care about that type of depth on social media. Like at all. You know?!?! And I’m not here to complain, I love being an influencer and generally I do still enjoy it for the amazing connections it brings, but… this is the world we live in? Is this really what we came here for?!

But then, like clockwork, someone replies to a piece I’ve written (sometimes on social but usually on the blog or pod) and says, “This is exactly what I didn’t know I needed.” Or, “I was on the verge of giving up on my life, and then I read this.” Or, “You put into words what I’ve been carrying alone for years; please don’t stop, keep going.” And in those moments, I remember exactly why I do this. Not for numbers or applause or anything at all outside of that quiet, sacred resonance with other human beings. The true connection. The writerly ability to both make someone feel less alone, while making ourselves feel less alone. A unique job that I will never take for granted

It’s the feeling of being seen without having to perform. That’s the kind of connection I want to build a life around. So that’s why I’m here on Substack. And that’s why even though I’ve had a #1 podcast on the charts for 10 years, when people ask me what I do for a living I usually say, “I’m a writer. I write books!” And why I write fiction once my kids go to bed, and why I spent 3ish years getting a book deal for my memoir even though I probably get have self-published for equal success.

So maybe this moment we’re in now—the Substack moment, the internet as open publishing moment—is a bridge between two worlds (a nod to my book title!). A reclamation of the long-form essay, the personal narrative, the meandering thought piece. The new-old Joan Didion era. It’s not the same, it’s really not, but maybe in our own new kind of way it can be? Maybe it can be the Age of Aquarian version? who’s in?

And also, even cooler: this Substack era is a new, very Aquarian Age chance to get paid, to self-publish, to speak directly to our people without waiting for someone else’s permission.

I will be sticking to a very regular cadence on here from here forward, for this very reason! This is what lights me up, so I know it’s what truly deserves my attention. If you feel inclined to become a paid Subscriber, it would mean the world to me. There’s so much good juiciness coming. And the fiction Substack is coming!!! SOON. Who is ready?!

If you’re here, please tell me more about you! What’s your name, where are you tuning in from, what do you love doing? I want to really harness the magic of being able to connect with you guys here. It’s a special spot. And I love you all. <3