Who Knew?
How I drowned in post-publication to-do's
Oh, hello there! I don’t blame you if you don’t remember my voice. It’s been a while. A 3-month silence. So unlike me! Ha.
How ambitious I was when I set out to write a short Substack once a week! Sure, it worked for a while last winter/spring, becasue ADHD’ers like me are full of ideas (a.k.a. “ideaphoria”) and energy, and enjoy spurts of creative output, but sticking to a routine for the long haul is typically a challenge.
Enter exhibit A: Moi in post-publication panic mode.
My last Substack piece was on May 26th, one day before my memoir-in-essays, BODY: MY LIFE IN PARTS, came out. And then: SILENCE. Well, not in a general sense, since I entered an embarrassingly hyper social-media-presence-on-steroids-phase promoting the book (which, unless you are published by “a BIG FIVE,” or can afford a publicist, all that self-promotion and pushing your goods is the author’s responsibility).
Here is an example of how time IS spent organizing events for an indie press author like myself, and this does not even reflect the interviews, podcast appearances, and workshops on body-writing, all which have to be responded to or pitched, and followed up and followed through. Not complaining, but it’s a full-time job.
But as far as creative output: zilch.
A creative soul can only live so long without expressing herself (um, creatively), before developing, let’s call it neurosis; it can get messy. As in, creeping —or crushing— feelings of worthlessness, self-doubt, fear, and confusion.
Then, when I was ready to return to my self-imposed Substack commitment, this beautifully and brutally honest essay by Rebecca Morrison, “I Love You But I’ll Never Read Your Substack” appeared on the Brevity Blog, and the air went out of my Substack balloon. Because Morrison is right: the Substack world feels over-saturated and really, who has time to read it all, or even, some of it? Not I. So, why contribute to the crowded highway of word-streams?
…becasue we crave connection, that’s why. After all, the tag-line of this here Viking Jewess Substack is “For lovers of curiosity, creativity, and connection.” But reality-checks like Morrison’s reminded me, thankfully, to manage my expectations, mostly, of myself. So, moving forward, I’ll aim for a once-a-month “hello” and update, hopefully with a few words or thoughts that will make you smile.
But please know, I love you and appreciate you, even though I know you may never read my Substack.
xo
Nina



Here I am, Nina, reading and commenting! For me, monthly is the sweet spot. I hope it feels that way for you as well. And enjoy your time in Oslo!
Here, too, reading and commenting and cheering your work!