Literary Salon #7
A Substack Week-in-Review
Come From Away
“Well, it is about 9/11, but don’t lose me there.” My daughter, having to explain the musical to people, after she’s told them they have to see it.
It’s my family’s favorite musical. Personally, it was holding second place because I hold a loving obsession for Hadestown, but tonight, I saw Come From Away for the third time; it’s fighting for that top spot.
I get to see these things because of my daughter. My wife doesn’t care much for the theater and even less for musicals, but our second viewing happened because we saw a billboard for the traveling production and my wife said, “Oh, I’d see that again.” It’s entirely possible we saw it that night. I don’t remember.
We saw it for the first time in London. I came back talking about nothing but the theater, and people were like, didn’t you see the sights? We did. Who cares. London has multiple shows playing all the time, and most are reasonably priced and most of the theaters are small, cozy affairs. If that sounds like the 99-seat community theaters back home, fine—if your community production of Glass Menagerie stars Amy Adams.
My daughter chose what plays we’d see, including Come From Away, and I was excited in theory for any of them—but that title doesn’t tell you much.
It was a small stage surrounded by fake trees, and the main props were chairs that the actors used with the imagination of children, turning their space into anything needed. Our second viewing was a traveling production at the St. Louis Fox Theather, and tonight was at the MUNY. I’d thought of it as theater in the park, and I thought it was all grass seating. None of it is grass seating. It’s an open-air amphitheater, and the size of the stage (which is quite large) was one of the challenges in translating the musical for this production. As a result, many aspects were different from the first two productions, but it all worked.
The musical itself only grows stronger every time. I was making ugly-cry faces for the first twenty minutes—and that’s one of the things that really amazes me. It makes me want to cry because it’s not trying to make me cry, but I’m hyper aware of everything the musical isn’t saying.
During 9/11, planes were diverted in Newfoundland and the little town of Gander, a town on a island with what used to be the largest airport in North America. Used to be, planes stopped there for gas, but that’s just not necessary anymore.
The musical isn’t about what happened in New York so much as it is about the impact of what happened, and even more than that, it’s about a tiny community coming together to host thousands of people from all around the world.
I’m amazed it works, but it works every time.
—Thaddeus Thomas
P.S. — I’m writing this at midnight, having just returned home, and it’s posting tomorrow. Enjoy all its mistakes.
Literary Salon #7
A comment from
regarding my upcoming book: Deeper Stories. “This section [on sentence length] might be the best piece on the craft of writing I’ve read in any trade book.”Now is the perfect time to commit to a new relationship with the Literary Salon.
Not a subscriber? Subscribe at no cost.
Already a subscriber? Become a paid subscriber at a huge savings.
Already a paid subscriber? Become a True Fan and help me keep those discounts going for writers and readers on a tight literary budget.
A note to email readers: this magazine concept only works if you allow yourself to click on a link and leave the email. If you’ll make the commitment to do that, I’ll do everything I can to make it worth your time and effort.
Today’s Salon
Headline Article: Come From Away
Free Books:
In the Stacks:
There are no “in the stacks” recommendations this week, but if you come across stories or essays or poems that deserve attention, let me know. There should have been some here this week, but my attempts to maintain regular employment occasionally cut into my Substack obsession.
Instead, I’m introducing a new section of my own material, but it’s not for everyone. See Left Ahead, below.
From the Literary Salon:
For Readers:
The Last Temptation of Winnie-the-Pooh. Chapter Six. Based upon the works of and including passages adapted from A. A. Milne. A serial.
Tochi Onyebuchi, Championed by Tom Schecter. RIOT BABY, and Empathy
For Readers and Writers:
Reviewstack: Four Book Openings: Norwegian Wood, The Unmapping, Empire's Daughter, and Why Teach?
Programs at the Literary Salon:
The Franklin Project / Open-World Fiction: a joint venture with
MmmFA (Mighty Fine Arts): Holding one another accountable for getting that book written. See our Slack Forum.
Reading Groups: Currently reading Empire’s Daughter by
; see our Slack Forum.
Left Ahead: Politics from a former evangelical pastor turned progressive. I publish these under a different account to minimize exposure to my subscribers who aren’t interested in such things.
Closing Article:
On Starting a New Substack Account by Thaddeus Thomas (see below)
On Starting a New Substack Account
I’ve said don’t do it.
When I decided to write about faith and politics, I went back to an account a created for a tutorial series but had never otherwise used. In the past, I’ve seen people mention that they intended to start another Substack under a different account, and it sounded like a terrible idea. Did they forget how hard we have to work to get traction for one account? You want to go through that all over again.
Apparently, I do.
In a recent note, I said:
It could have been an experiment in applying everything I’ve learned from this account and applying it to my new one. I set up everything right, learning from my mistakes the first time around, and my chances were better this time. I was building a non-fiction essay account around a theme about which I have both authority and a personal story. This could have been something to learn from, and then I had to go and mess the whole thing up by having a viral note on day 4.
I’m getting such a rush off my growing numbers, I required NARCAN!
But there’s nothing to learn from this. What a mess.
The note in question:
I posted that June 26th, as of the morning of July 1st, I now have 73 subscribers.
In an unrelated note, I’d previously mentioned how success on social media often depends on catching the interest of a big account. That dynamic created this response. At first, it at least one big account commenting, but then, as I expected the growth spurt to settle down, a big account quote-tweeted the note and it escalated instead of slowing.
I would say this isn’t replicable and therefore not very helpful, but the funny or humble and thankful addressing of first subscribers is a trope. During the same time, I saw a Note on the humble-gratitude variety that was doing better than twice my numbers.
But as I said in my Note, I was trying to learn from my mistakes. I had everything set up correctly to express who I was and what I was doing. I think a human face for the account image is important, and that’s what finally convinced me to present as an alternative me instead of a fully anonymous account. I set up paid subscriptions immediately. I made my about page and adjusted my essay titles and images to be more appealing.
Fortune favors the prepared. The principles which help convert the curious apply with the context of a viral note and without it.
Then, of course, there are the realities that we don’t want to hear on the fiction and literary side of Substack. When I first arrived, I was analyzing the short stories of James Joyce, and I fought for those first 25 subscribers.
No one cared. On my anniversary, I shared my first post, an essay on his story, The Sisters. No one cared then, either. — checking — Well, over time, it has received a number of views that’s on the healthy side of normal for this account, 688. It probably didn’t hurt that the next day I published my most popular post, ever.
This time, I’m writing about politics, and people flock to Substack with the intended purpose of consuming political material. So, I’m sure that’s helped.
The open rate for Monday’s essay is identical to my open rates here, though, and that’s telling—and not in a good way. When I was small here, my open rates were really strong. Now I hope to stay in the high 20s. My open rate over there should be higher, but people Subscribed because Substack is pretty good about wanting to support new people. Neither that nor the viral nature inspire follow-through, however.
Stats are lower when you get bigger and have been around for awhile because some of the subscribers have disappeared or lost interest but never dropped you. Many do drop you. That’s a constant every day thing. My subscriber chart looks like roller coaster. So, it’s been nice to have the rush of seeing all those people rush to my new account—even if that doesn’t mean they’re sold on checking out the writing.
—Thaddeus Thomas
P.S. — The viral surge ended on Tuesday with a total of 75 subscribers.
I read on another substack that open rates during the summer are lower than the rest of the year due to people taking vacations, etc... My open rates dropped 10 percent in June, so perhaps it's true. Or my readers stopped liking me, who knows? :)
Okay, I'm not a big fan of stage productions. But your description of the 9/11 aftermath sounds fascinating. And it's more interesting because of your posts and the innovative 'other characters lives' thing. I, too, am interested in the backstories of other people. In fact, sometimes I think the main characters are narcissists (though, maybe the good parts) because it's all about them. Does that mean I was always a spectator growing up? I think so. But, as writers, we have to be observers of others, right? It's your fault I made a side trip to the lyrics of the Rolling Stones.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjrBFG0Sfks&list=RDzjrBFG0Sfks&start_radio=1