Man Likes Own Website
It will probably come as a surprise to those of you who view this site as a nonstop parade of links to the Awl, but I am not naturally a self-promoter, or, really, a promoter of any kind. I don’t “do press,” I have a hard time talking about myself, and I tend to take compliments, be they effusive or backhanded, with a brief, embarrassed shrug before I quickly change the subject.
But it became pretty clear to me last night, when I was out with a couple of people whose opinions I very much respect, and who were saying very nice things about the site, and who elicited my natural, “But what’s going on with you?” response, that I have not really expressed how much pride I have in what David and Choire and I—and a host of incredibly valued contributors—have put together and somehow sustained over a little more than a year with pretty much nothing but a willingness to work hard and a belief that eventually it will all be worth it.
This, of course, is where my natural reluctance about self-praise comes in, so let me state the obvious: We do some very stupid shit sometimes. Particularly on the days when I am solely in charge and can comfort myself with the fact that, say, Bry or Maura will be doing something smart and interesting so I can slam up another “What A World” oddity and hope that it tides people over until those quality posts come through. I do that plenty when Choire’s around as well. In fact, if there’s an Achilles’ heel to the Awl, it sits squarely below my ankle.
That said, I’d be disingenuous to not make note of what we do every day. At the outset of this venture we had vague ideas about bulking out our own contributions with the work of talented friends who were looking for another outlet in which to express their appreciation of subjects which they were unable to properly address in their day jobs. That has indeed been the case, and I’m enormously glad about that. The real surprise, though, has been the input of the “amateurs,” people who have actual careers unrelated to “professional” writing, who found something in the site that touched them and made them feel like it was a place where they could express themselves and offer up a voice they might have never previously suspected that they had. There has been NOTHING more gratifying than that, the parade of new names and attitudes we’ve been able to push forward in the short time we’ve been around. (It goes without saying that most of this reflects particularly well on Choire, who is one of the unacknowledged great editors of our time.)
One of the things that was really important to me when I was at Radar was getting more new—and especially female—voices published, which was, of course, the great privilege of having a decent budget and the support that allowed me to make those choices. (Here is where I’m all “Thank God for Cechin and Paige, who also believed the same thing,” but, whatever, fuck you, it’s true, they did, and it made a big difference.) I’m really glad that we’ve carried that forward on the Awl: I am never more proud than when we break a new voice, no matter what gender or whatever, because it proves to me that I wasn’t wrong to value that, and that there’s a responsibility in being in a position where you make those choices where you really can make a difference.
I am not by any stretch of the imagination claiming that we are perfect. We fuck up plenty, and there’s a ton of stuff that I look at and think, Wow, how desperate was I to get something up that I put that through? (These are mostly the posts that carry my own byline.) “Be less stupid” is a noble aspiration, but a difficult goal to live up to given the pace of what we do and the paucity of resources with which we do it. That said, I hope we are NEVER at a point where I’m completely satisfied with how the site looks, or reads, or what it means to the community by which it is supported; I hope I’m always a little disappointed, because I can’t imagine anything more dangerous than thinking that you’ve figured something out.
I don’t know where we’ll be in a year. I don’t know where we’ll be in six months. I would like us to be at a point where everyone gets paid, and everyone feels valued for what they do. The best I can do right now is to constantly remind my writers how appreciative I am of what they do for our—and their—site. Sometimes I’m too busy to do even that, so, writers, consider this another mash note from me telling you how much I love what you do. I would also like us to be at a point where we are paying ourselves a sustainable salary. Hopefully—and indications are positive—that is coming soon. Until then, I guess, I will pay myself in the same kind of praise with which we pay the writers: I am enormously proud of the face we put forward to the world. I don’t think there’s any other website like ours on the Internet right now, and whether you love it or hate it, I’m incredibly pleased that we have made something so unique that still seems to resonate with so many people. So, yes, I guess I am patting myself on the back, however tentatively.
I promise you tomorrow I will return to all the self-loathing and stuff, so don’t be worried. But thank you for letting me get this one out.
Best, etc.,
