Through an onslaught of quizzes, in-class writings, and that mid-year reflection you’ve been putting off, at 7:59 PM, you hit send on an email containing your article to editors of The Phillipian. Whew. You fall back into your chair, thinking this is where the madness ends. Unfortunately, you return to your dorm after an exhausting Monday with a disappointed, paragraph-long message from your editor. But an aspiring Commentary writer doesn’t quit! So you spend the week following up and adjusting phrasing, and at last, you’re in Sam Phil hoping to see your PA Pals buried in The Phillipian. Instead, you find copies of the paper strewn across the table, some flipped to Commentary, others to sports. To top it all off, you’ve just gotten an email — it’s time to submit for next week already? These are the troubles that hold back a new writer from returning to Commentary. It takes courage to submit to publish one’s work, and when we fail to receive praise or validation for it, we often reach the extreme opposite conclusion that people are judging us. While it’s only natural to seek commendation when you’ve worked hard, I propose that writing was never meant to be that way. Anyone who calls themselves a writer can look back in their Google Docs to find hidden stories and endless drafts that will never see the light of day. Sharing your work is one of the most powerful things you can do as a writer, but you must do it for yourself.
My nine-year-old self, who wore bright colored leggings and sequined shirts, became a writer because of my idol, my 11-year-old cousin. What began as sharing a Google Doc during the COVID-19 pandemic grew into a Moleskine journal we mailed to each other, and though that tradition died, the seed she planted never did. I didn’t particularly enjoy sharing my work with friends, but I found joy in sharing my work with people who would never come to know me. Even now, as I regularly share my thoughts in this Commentary section, I often don’t consider who is going to see my work when I submit it. I encourage others to do the same. Let go of any worries and consider submitting to a publication. Think of newspapers and journals as somewhat of an active archive. A collection for you to look upon as what you consider your “best work” evolves from year to year. Our writing is a culmination of all of our experiences, and reflects our growth from youthful innocence to more self-conscious adolescents. Putting pieces of writing out there isn’t necessarily about who might see it, but how you’ll see it months later. We may not receive attention for something we write now, but perhaps it’s not others who should give meaning to it, but you.
In being scrutinized, I have learned much about my writing style. My history teacher frequents upon my habit of run-on sentences and flowery prose, while my English teacher would probably say I have too many ideas going on at the same time. Efforts to look sophisticated often lead to circuitous paragraphs, losing the thesis along the way. However, we cannot expect to improve on these flaws and view writing objectively without someone giving pointers. Submitting to publications is a chance to relearn your comma rules, get your article torn apart, or rewrite your argument within a week. The revision process involved in publication isn’t a reflection of the quality of your work, but rather a guide for proofreading. Similarly, comments about your work from friends and family shouldn’t be taken as criticism; instead, take it into consideration for your future pieces. More often than not, readers will come to tell you how much they enjoy your writing, or that they are related to something emotional you opened up about. Even though my initial reaction to such comments is often to be embarrassed, accepting praise comes along with embracing areas for improvement.
If your cursor hovers over the send button to that publication, go for it. Sharing work isn’t about who reads it or how they feel about it, but the excitement of knowing your work is out there for you to look back on as you grow. Look at writing for newspapers and literary magazines as how you would write for your own journal — with your true feelings and uncensored thoughts.
