Member-only story
I Still Want to Read You, My Fellow Human
On real connections in an unreal world
There’s one particular hour each week I really look forward to. I sit in a wooden band hall, waiting for my daughter to finish her brass lesson and indulge in something I don’t get to do often as a busy mum: an hour of uninterrupted online reading. I look up from my phone occasionally to appreciate the duet she’s playing with her teacher, but while they work through scales and exercises polishing her tone, my mind is on the next story the internet can offer me. Your story.
I find myself gravitating to sites I know real writers lurk. I look for signs of life. Signs of heart and soul. I’d prefer “good” writing, but I’ll take decent, as long as it’s real. This hour of reading time is like gold. I spend most of my day in my own house, homeschooling my kids or working one-on-one with other people’s kids. My Monday evening reading hour is a magical connection with like-minded adults. People like me, who share their lives online. Readers and writers who love the written word. Who still value this art and our stories.
People like you.
I know not everyone loves hearing about people’s lives. For some readers, personal essays are dull, overly vulnerable, uninteresting. Who wants to read about someone else’s life when you could learn about…
