Mary Gaitskill posts on such disparate subjects as literature, incel phenomenon, pole dancing and AI. She talks to writers and other people trying to figure things out. Her publication is Out of It.
1. Why Substack?
I initially got onto Substack because Substack offered me money to post for a month. It sounded doable and interesting--I'd never been on social media--so I accepted the job. To my surprise, I really enjoyed it. It became almost compulsive for a while.
2. How long did it take you to find your groove?
On the third post. I had carefully planned the first and second, but the third one came about spontaneously and passionately. Because of that it was very different from anything else I'd written publicly.
3. How has it changed you?
I think it’s made me more trusting and optimistic about people in groups, especially in groups online. It has changed my assumptions about online interaction which I used to see as entirely toxic and superficial--people on Substack are so not like that; I've really been excited by how intelligent and patient my readers are. Possibly it's freed me a little in terms of tone.
4. What mistakes have you made?
I've several times hesitated to post something and then too much time elapsed.
5. To pay or not to pay?
The upside of doing it for free--which I did for a long time--was that it was free for me too. I didn't feel any pressure, it really was purely for fun and communication. Once you start asking for money its more pressure.
6. What artistic and technical choices have you made
That's hard to answer in a general way, it varies from piece to piece. But I do think I've consistently made a choice to be playful with imagery and use of things like videos. That's been really pleasurable and expansive in a subtle way.
7. What’s been the effect on your writing?
Hard to say but I think it’s made me a little more confident and trusting of readers.
8. In it for the long haul?
Not sure. I do find the mindset of writing for Substack difficult to put together with the mindset of writing fiction. I wish this wasn't true, but it is. I'm not good at putting together inner-directed mind with the out-directed. I don't think this is true of all fiction writers, but for me fiction requires a kind of cocooning; it’s an intimate, in some ways a delicate process that you don't want interfered with until it’s finished. That's true of traditional essays too, though less so because when I write an essay for a magazine I am doing it with a very clear wish to communicate in a particular way--it’s an outer-directed process. The minds of other people, the awareness of their opinions and possible reactions is not an "interference" in that case, it’s necessary. With Substack that awareness is very heightened because it’s so immediate, it’s almost like you're having an email discussion with hundreds of people (if it’s a paid post) or even thousands of people. It’s hard to explain but that immediacy makes the mind vibrate in a way that's great but sometimes jarring. I have considered at some point putting fiction on Substack, and I don't know how that would go. But even then, I would have to do the cocooning process before putting it online.
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You're welcome! I think it must indeed be a continuum. I'm on the extreme end when it comes to fiction, meaning that I think about reader reactions very little (non-fiction is different, it has a different purpose). But that's only one way of working. To me if I think too much about reactions while I'm writing fiction it becomes paralyzing. Also I've noticed that when, after publication, I do anticipate reader responses I'm often very wrong. So I don't think it would help me to focus on that while writing. But for some people it might! Best of luck in finding your sweet spot...
Very much enjoyed reading this. It's funny — I think that the attention-to-the reader bit must be a longer continuum than I had previously thought.
When I was doing academic writing, the writing was entirely in service to the readers/field. When I see that stuff being read or cited, my basic reaction is along the lines of “you're welcome.”
With the more literary essays I've been putting up here, where the content follows my own preoccupations rather than a sense of fulfilling a need, I tend to react with a sense of gratitude when things are read.
My attempts at fiction mostly haven't worked, and I wonder if that isn't because I haven’t quite found the right place on that continuum between reader-centered and the way you frame it here (the cocooning).
Interesting and thought-provoking: thank you.