This was originally published on TheVocal.com.au (Fairfax) in 2016.
I discovered personal essays when I was 14, with platforms like LiveJournal, and later, Tumblr. Fast forward a few years, and personal essays have taken the internet by storm. Entire websites dedicated to publishing one thousand word reflections on traumatic events or circumstances have appeared in abundance, with some not even attempting to hide the fact that they’re driven by profit, not genuine interest or concern.
Young writers who’ve felt moved by other essays divulge our innermost secrets over email to editors around the world, looking to be heard, to be told that our experiences are valid. Where we once wrote locked LiveJournal entries, or in diaries we hid under our beds, we’ve learnt how to sell our worst experiences to people we’ve never met and who almost certainly do not have our best interests at heart.
Publishers have realised that traumatic experiences get attention. Traumatic experiences with clickbait for headlines, doubly so. If you’ve had an abortion, apply here. If you had a threesome with your stepfather and high school English teacher, pitch us now. If you were hit by a car driven by your high school nemesis, send us a draft.
