Who doesn’t love a good goody bag?
As a kid, there was almost nothing better than leaving a birthday party with one. You brought a gift to the party and then left with one too. The mother of that invention deserves a bravo from me. Yes, the ice cream, cake and games were great, but the gift on the way out the door…that was the best part.
It didn’t even have to be good. A few pieces of candy. A plastic ring. Some stickers. It didn’t matter. Leaving with something made it special.
My inner child still loves a good goody bag, which I have discovered is exactly what I want to give my reader too.
Apparently, adulthood hasn’t changed this about me. Give me samples at Bluemercury and I’m delighted. A peek in the drawer for my own selection of what amounts to less than .05 ounces of a product somehow makes the lotion I purchased seem even more worthwhile. Send me home from an event with a gift bag and I will absolutely look inside before I get to the car.
And I am clearly not the only one out there who appreciates a giveaway. I have a friend who has developed a long list of retailers that give you something on your birthday or throughout the month. She spends the entire month making her way around town for every version of a Dunkin’ donut birthday treat. Her Facebook feed documents every stop along the way. It’s comical and genius. It also tells you there is something about walking away with a little something extra that we apparently never outgrow.
That unexpected takeaway somehow adds value to the entire experience. It turns out, there is a deep psychological response to being rewarded, and a corresponding dopamine hit. No wonder I love free samples. My brain craves the reward.
Which, curiously, has me thinking about my own writing.
A few weeks ago, I published an article, How to Write a Personal Essay Without Overexposing Your World. It took off in a way I wasn’t expecting and brought a lot of new readers, which has been amazing to experience.
If that one was about what not to share, consider this its sister. This one is about what to give.
Since then, I’ve thought a lot about how I crafted that article and what gave it wings, if you will.
I could chalk it up to the algorithm or the title or timing. Add “How to” to a title and, I suspect, the machine behind the machine sees opportunity. I am sure those things probably played some part. But I think there was something much simpler happening.
I gave the reader their own version of a goody bag. There was a digital party favor tucked inside.
In this case, the takeaway was five guideposts for writing a personal essay without blowing up your world in the process. I even made a Canva graphic for it too. They weren’t pulled from a writing manual or something I learned in a classroom. The article stemmed from an unsubscribe that arrived like a gut punch and caused me to reflect on my own work.
It turns out I had a few things I needed to untangle. I revisited my library of published articles and did a little analysis. Having been a professional analyst for nearly two decades, this felt like a familiar but uncomfortable exercise. It turns out it’s easier to analyze other people’s work than your own.
But I learned a few things along the way that I felt were worth sharing. Hence the article.
This platform has been hugely welcoming and supportive. If I can provide a smoother landing for others, it feels reciprocal to what I have received here.
When I arrived on Substack, I didn’t think I had anything tangible to offer.
There are a lot of writers doing a remarkable job of capitalizing on what Substack was built to do: monetize your work. There is no shortage of writers selling courses and guides. There are also publications sharing recipes, financial advice, workouts, productivity systems and downloadable whatever-you-can-imagine.
One of the very first people I met on the platform was a wellness and travel writer with a book titled 150 Spas You Need to Visit Before You Die. I know that because I bought it. Of course I did.
She, like so many others, had expertise that seemed easy to package and, eventually, monetize.
I didn’t have any of that. I know that sounds like I’m playing the victim card. Trust me, I’m not. But there was a big part of me sitting in the seat of comparison, wondering what I could offer that would be compelling enough for someone to subscribe to.
Yes, I’ve had a lot of life experience and could easily be the poster child for reinvention, a word I have really come to loathe (that’s for another article). But so have a lot of other people, and I wasn’t sure any of it qualified as expertise.
I have stories to tell and opinions about plenty of things. I have traveled extensively, run ten marathons, owned a business, raised a daughter, worked in finance, taught yoga, lost my husband, started over and somehow found myself writing about all of it on the internet. Again, the reason for the article about not overexposing your world.
But none of that felt like a product. Which, I suspect, is what a lot of other writers out there are questioning for themselves too.
What do I have to offer? What do I know that someone else would actually want? And perhaps the bigger question on a platform built around subscriptions, why would anyone subscribe or even pay to read it?
I received almost that exact question in the comments of my last article.
A fellow nonfiction writer asked what she could write about that would inspire and give hope, but also help grow her publication.
I told her I always write from what is most relevant in my own life and the lessons I am learning along the way.
I believed that answer when I wrote it. I still do.
Until another comment made me realize there was more to it.
North Star.
Those two words stopped me for two reasons that feel divinely connected. The gas station adjacent to the yoga studio I owned is called True North, but for some reason I always mistakenly called it North Star. Always.
The reference also reminded me of the guideposts we created for the studio. The mission and vision statements for Toledo Yoga were our North Star. We used them as guides for the business, and they are still used that way today. If a decision isn’t in alignment with the mission and vision of the organization, there is a pivot.
It’s what has kept the studio alive and thriving for 12 years, which is no easy feat in the boutique fitness world.
Why didn’t I have the same thing for The Preferred EDIT?
Paula’s comment hit home.
I wasn’t lacking subject matter. I had identified the pillars of The Preferred EDIT early on, and I knew what I wanted to write about. Somewhere along the way, though, I think I became more focused on what I wanted to say than what I wanted the reader to walk away with.
There’s a difference.
I found that I can easily write about a personal experience and find the universal truth where the reader sees something about themselves in the article. As a personal essayist, that comes easily for me. For example, I can write about my experience qualifying for the Boston Marathon (which I actually did when I ran my very first marathon), but you don’t have to be a runner to understand what it feels like to work toward something that once seemed impossible. The Boston qualifier is my story. When you recognize something seemingly impossible you’ve overcome in your own life, that’s the universal truth.
As writers, we can all find ways to make the reader laugh, think, perhaps feel a little less alone in their own struggle, or even feel seen.
But Paula’s comment made me wonder if I had stopped one step too soon.
As a longtime practitioner of yoga and former studio owner, the analyst in me still evaluates every yoga class I take using three simple pillars: physicalness, possibility and empowerment. Did I have a physical experience? Did I learn or experience something new? And perhaps most importantly, did I leave feeling empowered?
Maybe writing isn’t so different.
Empowerment was the goody bag in yoga. It’s the difference between a good class and a great one. Walking away with something unexpected that I could apply to my own life, off the mat, that’s not only a bonus, it’s a personal reward.
So what was I leaving my readers with? What was I putting in their goody bag?
Once I started thinking about my writing this way, I realized I had been defining what I had to offer far too narrowly.
I kept thinking I needed a product. Something I could package up and hand to the reader as proof that their time, or their subscription, had been worth it.
The five guideposts in my personal essay article weren’t a product. They were pieces of what I had learned from my own experience. Ones that not only benefited me as a writer but also the people who helped shape the stories themselves. (I think it’s safe to say that no one wants to be overexposed online.)
I began looking at the rest of my writing differently.
I recently ran into a woman who was one of the very first subscribers to The Preferred EDIT. Oddly enough, we bumped into each other at a funeral. She said, “I enjoy reading your articles, but I now own a very expensive pair of tennis shoes because of you.”
It made me laugh in the moment. But the reality is, Amazon continues to send me small commissions from random things I linked months ago. Over the 70-plus articles I have published, I have written about my travels, the longevity clinics I’ve visited and my own wellness journey, the clothes I’ve worn along the way and, apparently, even a pair of expensive tennis shoes. But I have also shared the things that have worked for me, like how to protect my privacy and even how I make the holidays a peaceful time of year (an article I am excited to repurpose in the coming weeks!).
My point is, the product doesn’t have to be a product. The goody bag can simply be filled with pieces of me.
Which brings me back to the question from the writer in my comments: What do I have to offer?
Perhaps that’s not quite the right question to ask.
I don’t need to package expertise in a PDF to make it relatable or desired. My life, like yours, is rich with experience. Old or young, we all have perspective and things we’ve learned along the way.
That’s really no different from how the five guideposts in my “How to” article came to be. I didn’t know what they were before I started looking at my own experience. I went back through my writing, considered what that one unsubscribe had stirred up in me and figured out what I had learned along the way. Then I gave those lessons to the reader in the simplest terms I could: a graphic with the five guideposts and the detail behind each of them.
Maybe what I need to start asking myself again is: What have I discovered that might save someone else time, money or heartache? What have I tried that I would absolutely do again? What have I found that I can’t stop telling my friends about?
Because that’s actually how The Preferred EDIT came to fruition. Everyone wanted to know what vibration plate I purchased. The idea of that makes me laugh now. I think I jumped on it before it became a trend, and my friends wanted to know more about it. Now they’re everywhere. Or they were anyway. That TikTok moment may have come and gone. I’m not on that platform, so I wouldn’t know.
But what I do know is that we each have a goody bag to offer. Yours might look like your grandmother’s beloved recipes, knowledge from your professional world or even a book that inspired you. Heck, it can even be a pair of tennis shoes you love.
You don’t need a course, a credential or a downloadable PDF to have something worth giving the reader. Sometimes you just have to look at what you already know, what you’ve experienced and what you’ve picked up or learned along the way.
I think that’s the piece I had lost sight of, and what I am really excited to bring back to my writing. The idea of sharing more of what I discover, learn, love and experience brings me so much joy. And yes, I actually love creating those Canva graphics, so I suspect there will be plenty more of those too.
With every article going forward, my North Star will be:
What am I giving the reader to take with them?
Maybe it isn’t about deciding what I should write about at all. Maybe it’s making sure that whatever I choose to write about leaves you with something you didn’t have when you arrived.
If you have made it this far, then consider this the end of the birthday party.
Here is your goody bag:
Always EDITing,
Leslie
Please share your thoughts. I feel like I make a new friend with each comment.
P.S. If you are a paid subscriber, you are getting the Goody Bag bonus. A little bit from my life lately and the things I found that I love.
Great reminder as a writer that it’s not only about me. What can I leave my readers with as a Takeaway.
I’m so happy I read this today! I’ve been feeling a little off about my posts, and at the same time I’m very excited but nervous about a second or sub-publication I’d like to start. This North Star has been a shot of inspiration! 🫶