An Open Letter to Medium

re: The Kel Campbell Debacle cc: elizabeth tobey

How I Came to Medium

Last fall, I was working on a DIY bathroom renovation and found myself thinking a lot about writing. You see, I’d written two book-length memoirs during the yeas 2008 to 20012. They are nothing particularly noteworthy. I’d moved to China in 2007 and had some time to kill. So I started writing.

Once I’d completed the two books, I spent some time researching the publishing process. It seemed like a colossal waste of time, so I studied the self-publishing process. Self-publishing seemed like an even bigger waste of time. I wanted to keep writing, but I’d run out of topics to write about. And fiction…oof, I’m not equipped to carry that burden.

So I shifted my focus to yoga. And breathing. And being centered. I was rapidly rounding the bend to 40 and needed to wrap my head around that.

40 came and went with nary a glitch, thanks for asking.

So, last fall I was designing this bathroom and I couldn’t keep my mind off of writing. I couldn’t keep my mind off of those two stories that were sitting in a virtual folder collecting dust. What was the point in writing them if no one was going to read them? So, I did a google search which led me to an article making the case for serializing your story by Tom Farr.

I read his article. Signed up. And started digging around.

The next article I read was by Alana Massey. As I read her words, it was my voice that I heard. So much of her truth was also my truth. How could that possibly be?

What I’ve Learned From Medium, So Far

And then I found Kel Campbell. But before that, let me just say that I started pushing my first memoir into the world of medium. Crickets. So I found an article about how to get noticed on medium. Fuck, they want me to join the conversation. But I hate people. And people hate me.

Joining the conversation is literally my worst nightmare. But, it forced me out of my comfort zone. Which is like my second worst nightmare. And slowly but surely I started to build a community. And that community is blending with other communities as I build my community. And it’s really fucking groovy. I’m so glad I took that leap.

Enter Kel Campbell.

At some point I read her account of her horribly violent sexual assault. And since she is gone, I can’t link to it — or quote it — but there was a statement she made that changed my purpose as a writer. Whatever it was she said reminded me that the whole point of this writing life is to help others. It was her duty to put her words out there; it is my duty to put my words out there.

Up until that point I was really only posting my memoirs and doing a lot of reading. And commenting. And highlighting. And recommending.

But she changed all of that.

I started thinking about my own experience with sexual assault. I wrote a piece about being sexually abused as a child. And people noticed. I wrote another piece about being raped in college. And people noticed. I have my 3rd experience in draft form still. It isn’t ready for the light of day yet. When I do hit publish on that piece, it is going to really open up the conversation. I hope it stays civil.

I started to read other people’s accounts of their experiences with sexual assault. And I am horrified and disgusted at how many people — boys, girls, men and women — who have the same fucking story. So many people are living that nightmare. It was really then that I realized how angry I am. Still. After all these years. I am still so angry.

Kel Campbell gave me the courage to speak my truth. For that, I am eternally grateful. In turn, maybe my truth will help some person speak their truth. And so on. So that eventually, we can all heal.

Maybe some boy or some man who has been raised to believe he is a sexual machine will read my words, or Kel’s words and their mind will shift. And a rape will be prevented.

Is that too bold of a dream? That we can end abuse of power?

Big Pharma, Publishing, Medium & the 80–20 Rule

More than a decade ago (geez) I worked for a little start up web 2.0 company based in Denver, Colorado. My director of marketing was/is a feminist. We were having a chat one day about big pharma and she made the statement, “I’m so glad we have yet another pill so men can keep their hard-on, yet we’ve made no progress whatsoever trying to cure breast cancer.” Or something like that.

I thought long and hard about that statement. I kept my comments to myself, though, since she was in charge of my review and raise.

What I thought, though, is that we need men to be obsessed with their limp dicks so that their wounded egos can sell a lot of viagra or whatever brand name hard on medicine there is out there so that we can raise money so that we can fund cures for horrible diseases.

In the same vein (pun not intended), publishing is a similar beast. I am baffled at how many books there are on the shelves of Barnes and Noble. I am baffled that books like the Twilight series (with all due respect to its author) is such a horribly written book and she is sitting around somewhere counting her money. I mean, he kissed me wetly? Every time I read those words — which is a lot in an 1,100 page book— it made me cringe. Yet, I still read the book. In eight days…is that the record? I devoured those books. The characters came alive and the story was sweet and predictable. A guilty pleasure. But the writing. Horrible. Oh yeah, the point? We need this type of mass market literature so that real writers can get their words published, too. They’re never going to make it rich, but their words will reach the people who need it most. The people who are seeking something more. Something deeper. Something meaningful. To themselves.

Which brings me to Medium. Full circle, see how I did that? 80% of what I see on Medium is bullshit. To me. It is completely irrelevant. To me. But 20% of it? I need it. I need Heather Nann and Tim Barrus (even though he scares me a little and is probably mad at me for writing what I wrote about publishing) and Todd Hannula and Elliot Nichols and Ellie Guzman and Gutbloom and Mike Essig and Oliver Shiny and @j.s.lamb and alto and Colette Clarke Torres and Charles Frank and Charles O'Meara…and so many more. I need them like I need air in my lungs. Each for different reasons. And I need Kel Campbell even though I am secretly jealous of how smart and funny and insightful she is. But in a good way. She makes me a better writer. She makes me a better person. I bet we’d be pals if we knew each other in the real world.

And that is the point of it all. Isn’t it? I know you all at Medium have to make a living. I understand that 80% of what comes through this portal into my mind from the minds of others is irrelevant to me. And I’m good with that. And you are too. And I believe, truly believe, that you care about 100% of us. All of us for different reasons — some of which I hope I’ve touched on here.

I am not good, however, with whatever happened that drove Kel Campbell away. I don’t know shit about copy right. I don’t know shit about laws and lawyers.

I do know about trust. How hard it is to build it. How easy it is to lose it. How nearly impossible it is to re-build once it’s broken. I can’t speak for Kel, but it seems to me you have broken her trust. I don’t know if you can earn it back. I certainly hope you can.

Thanks for listening.

Jennifer