Some Profound Thoughts on Being a Writer from Molly Wizenberg, and Why I Go to Book Signings

One of the best things about moving to DC is that, unlike Grand Rapids, authors come here to do readings and book signings. Saturday night, I met Molly Wizenberg, the author of A Homemade Life and the blog Orangette. She’s just released her second book, Delancey, a memoir about the year she and her husband spent opening their pizza place in Seattle.

I confess, I always feel stupid at book signings. When I finally make it up to the author’s table, where he or she is sitting, Sharpie in hand, I inevitably forget what I wanted to say. After all, I understand the hard places of the writing and publishing business pretty well, and I value authors in a different way than Average Joe Reader because of that. So there are always wise, understanding, professional-sounding words of encouragement in my head that fly right out as soon as I’m face to face with an author. Instead, I become the lamest possible facsimile of myself, and I feel like a plain ol’ idiot. I’ve never been good at being anyone’s gushing fan, but somehow I always end up sounding like the worst version of one.

I follow a lot of blogs, but Molly’s has probably been the most important blog because it was the first. Orangette showed me that I could combine two of the things I love – telling stories and cooking – into one. Even now, years later, her blog is my favorite to read. It always, always has a freshness and a realness that draws me in. It never feels like she’s trying to write for a “platform,” (gosh, I hate that word – I didn’t realize how much until I just typed that).

Meeting Molly mattered to me because I wanted to tell her in person that she inspired me to start blogging about food and family way back when. I know she has thousands of readers who love her and she probably doesn’t really need my awkward-sounding platitudes, but I also know that writing is mostly a solitary place, even when you’re a blogger and you get comments by the bajillion like she does. Writers need to know – really know – that their words are doing something. I know that if it were me behind that table, it would mean so much that my readers showed up and bought my books and wanted to say hello in person.

So I stood in line with my copy of Delancey, and when I finally got to Molly and her Sharpie, I managed to stutter out a few nervous sentences. And she was gracious and kind and present. Not just with me – I could see that she really paid attention to every single person she spoke to, taking in as much as she could of who they are and what matters to them. It was a joy to experience and to witness, and it reinforced the reasons I read her blog and her books. She was the same person in that bookstore Saturday night that she is in her writing. And that says a lot.

She said some profound things about writing and about being a writer during the Q&A portion of the event (which is always my favorite part – I love hearing writers talk about the craft and how it happens for them). She said things I wanted to take home with me and keep in my heart forever. I stood there at the very back of the crowd, tapping them into the Notes app in my phone because I didn’t bring a notebook with me.

“Write passionately and thoughtfully and honestly about the things you really care about,” she said, “and not about what you think others want to hear.”

This can be starkly in contrast to the demands of platform creation. What’s a platform? It’s an attempt to “meet a felt need,” to bring in as many readers as possible, and – here’s the key – it therefore can be a departure from writing purely for the joy and passion of writing. Publishers want writers to have a platform because it helps sell books. But Molly just shows up with her real, messy, beautiful and very human life (which looks a lot like anyone else’s) and says, “Hey, I’m here. This is me. And this is what I have to say today.” Which is what she’s always done, and is what she advised us to do. And the ironic thing is, it works.

Because when writing is passionate and thoughtful and honest, it will resonate with readers. If you don’t write out of passion and thoughtfulness and honesty, you can forget the platform.

She also gave a better reason for blogging than just creating a platform. She said, “Blogging can be an incredible tool for writers. Writing is very solitary, and a blog can simply make you show up. A lot of the time, I don’t feel like writing and I think I have nothing to say, but then I show up and I work at it, and something comes out that I didn’t even realize was there.”

She is so right.

It took me a long time to start showing up here regularly, and I wish I’d done it sooner. Because spending part of every day with words, whether I’m writing fiction or writing about cooking, family, or my faith on Beyond Toast, has become fundamental for me.

I couldn’t help hearing people as they stood and chatted with Molly for a few moments while she signed her name and wrote a few words for each of them. Almost every person said something like, “I know you don’t know me, but you feel like a trusted friend. Your blog has become part of my life. Thank you for sharing your life and your heart with me.”

This is, I think, probably one of the highest compliments a writer can receive. Never mind awards or successful platforms or even book deals with high advances. This is the crux of what it means to write – it’s offering up a piece of yourself with honesty and integrity and passion, and having a reader see that and value it and somehow feel known. It really is that simple.

Thanks so much, Molly. You reminded me why I do this.

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