The Problem With Personal Essays On Medium

Two questions you need to ask yourself every time you write anything.

You may have noticed that personal essays can do really well on Medium. You know why, right? It’s because they’re not content. They aren’t yet another droll “how to” piece that there’s already a thousand links in google for.

So much of the internet is content that people are hungry for real writing and human stories. They want to read something that hooks their emotions. Leaves them feeling something. Real writing. Not content. Not crap ChatGPT could have written.

I’m going to throw two questions at you in a minute. First, I’ll illustrate.

When people write personal essays, a commonly used tag is This Happened To Me.

That’s not just a tag. It’s literally how they write a personal essay. An accounting of something that happened. Beginning to end. The problem is that, too often, they read like a well written journal entry. I’m saying that as observation, not judgement.

And I get it. Those stories are interesting to your readers. They know you, they like you, they’ve been reading your writing for a while. They’re interested in you.

Here’s the problem. They don’t always do spectacularly well in boost.

If the story does get boosted, you see an uptick in traffic. And then it fizzles out like the last glass of carbonated water in the bottle. They go flat too fast. And it’s so easy to blame Medium. Wow, they’re just not sending the traffic, hey?

It’s even easier to blame Medium if you’ve ever had a personal essay do super well. You write that one piece and it goes crazy. 10K views, 200 comments and then the rest are just…pffft by comparison. Obviously they “can” send traffic. But they’re not. Right?

Let me tell you about a story I read.

It was a mom lamenting about being stuck in the middle of an argument between her kid and stepdad. The man she loves and the kid she loves. I don’t remember the title. Something about being in the middle.

It was well written. But the whole story was a play by play. Kid said this, hubby said that. Each demanding she take their side. The story didn’t go anywhere because it couldn’t. There was nowhere for it to go. It’s going to happen again next week.

Here’s the first question; Why the heck would a thousand random strangers want to read this?

It’s the question I’m going to ask when I’m looking for stories to nominate. And it’s the question every reader asks when they see the title in their feed. It’s not like they literally ask that question. It’s more like, if they don’t instantly see a reason “to” read it, they don’t. They scroll on by looking for something that pushes their buttons.

Do a thousand random strangers want to read about the marital issues of a woman they don’t know in Boise Idaho or wherever? Probably not. Her regular readers will love it. But a thousand random strangers? Not so much.

Now, that one time she wrote about her mom having dementia — probably did much better. It pushed buttons people don’t need to know her to relate to. You know?

But they could have been interested. Even in this story.

Which leads to question number two. Is every word necessary?

Nothing should be longer than it needs to be. Nothing. When you pad a story with minutiae and detail, I’m not sure you’re respecting the reader’s time. Or intelligence. Every word on the page should be there because the story is less without it.

As many writers before me said, kill your darlings. That means those sentences you love so much but don’t move anything forward.

Here’s what I wish I could have done to that story.

First, slash the hell out of it. I’d have taken that five minute play by play and chopped it to two paragraphs that rip your heart out. Make it an anecdote to a larger story.

Here’s the larger story. Did you know 67% of second marriages fail? And when marriage counselors talk about why second marriages, that’s one of the reasons they fail. Step kids. Step parents. And the monkey in the middle who doesn’t want to be the rope in a tug of war anymore.

They put up, and put up until one day they resent all the pick me, pick me shit and pick peace of goddamn mind. And that mom? She doesn’t want that.

Add another powerful anecdote. Because you know it’s happened more than once. Know what you have there? You have a personal essay a thousand random strangers do want to read. Because they’re in second marriages, too.

You don’t make the title about you. No, it’s about how damn hard second marriages are. The story is all you. Peppered with your experience. But it’s their story too now.

Here’s another story I ran across.

It was by a guy who was bullied as a kid. But he didn’t do the play by play thing. Oh, my very bad, awful day on the playground 25 years ago. Nope. It had powerful anecdotes. Painted some teachers in a pretty ugly light. And ended up making a powerful statement about what an epically poor job schools do of looking after the kids we leave in their trust and care. Especially the most vulnerable kids.

The power of those two questions is that they hone in on two concepts.

Emotion and pace.

Those are what make or break a story.

Some people nail those like they were born to write. But a lot of people? Those concepts can make their writing so much more powerful.

Here’s what I bet.

I bet if you went into your stats and found your most viewed story of 2023, you’d see those two concepts in action. Emotion and pace.

Game to play along?

Go into your stats and find your top viewed post from 2023. Share it in the comments. I’d love to read your best story of last year. Mine are below. Your turn!

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2023 Most Read Posts On Medium:

• No One Really Tells You The Hardest Part Of Getting Older

• I Asked ChatGPT How To Earn $1000 Online. It Was Hilarious

• Is This What Aging Means, Losing All The People You Loved?

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If you enjoy my writing, please click the heart or share this post. And thanks.

xo,
Linda