The surprising thing I learned from joining a podcast

I’m a writer. I like to be read, not heard. I’ve always felt most comfortable behind the scenes. Sort of the phantom in the opera house. The woman in the attic. The ghoul under the bridge. Pick your creepy 19th-century metaphor. I feel more at ease with a keyboard than a megaphone.

But over the past couple years, I’ve picked up–not a megaphone, but a microphone.

Two years ago, NC author Landis Wade called and asked if I’d like to join him as a co-host of Charlotte Readers Podcast. I’d been on the podcast previously as an author guest, and knew Landis through his book Deadly Declarations. I would never have thought to start a podcast on my own. Listen to myself talk? No thank you. But this one was already a smoothly running operation, featuring exciting authors as guests, and I knew it was an unmissable opportunity to pick the brains of writers I admire. Despite some apprehension about the potential challenges, I said yes.

And there have been challenges along the way. The awesome technology that allows us to record anytime, anywhere, with authors from around the world, can be buggy. I’ve had to re-record parts of interviews with lost audio, troubleshoot on the fly with my (quite limited) technical know-how, and, once, restart an interview when my paranoid nightmare came true and I forgot to press record (thankfully, only one question in). Podcasting is time-consuming, particularly when it requires reading books, developing questions, and coordinating with new guests for every episode (oh, and publishing nine podcast-related books in a year!). And this shy writer/ghoul is intimidated to converse with some legitimately brilliant writers.

 Also, the screenshots I take with authors to promote their episodes are, without exception, VERY awkward.

Making awkward memories with authors I admire (feat. Rebecca Makkai)

 But the experience has been a deeply rewarding one as well. I’ve learned so much from Landis and our fellow co-host, reader/writer/publicist extraordinaire Hannah Larrew, and am gratified to count them as friends. I’ve read exceptional books, including some in genres I would never have picked up on my own–and I’ve gotten them for free. I’ve expanded my professional network and gained wisdom and practical tips on the craft and business of writing. And, perhaps most importantly, I’ve surprised myself. I’ve realized that I can do things I didn’t know I was capable of, just by doing them.

Battling the plague of self-doubt is a theme that’s recurred in many of my author interviews. I’ve spoken to or profiled authors who published as teenagers and those who found writing in retirement. I’ve talked to everyone from debut authors to a Pulitzer-nominated novelist, an Oscar-nominated screenwriter, and a Caldecott-winning children’s author. I’ve interviewed poets, novelists, memoirists, and short story writers. All across this spectrum, the writers I’ve encountered have voiced many of the same sentiments: the delight of hearing from readers who get you, the doubts that success never fully assuages, the pain of rejection, the necessity of getting your butt in the chair and showing up for yourself even on days when the muse is slow to participate, and the value of finding fulfillment in the process itself, in the pure joy of a carefully placed word. These writers have discovered both challenges and rewards they never would have expected at the beginning of their journeys.

That’s always how it goes, even with writing itself. Faced with a blank page, you might think there’s no way you can come up with an entire book. But you write one word at a time, and one day a whole book has blossomed. You discover you’re a writer by putting words on the page. I discovered I was a podcaster by turning on the mic. You can be more than you think you can—the trick is to just do it.

With our 400th episode, Charlotte Readers Podcast is coming to a close so that the co-hosts can focus on other projects for a while. But Hannah, Landis, and I will be back with other collaborations in the future, so stay tuned! In the meantime, you can keep in touch with us through our newsletter and listen to the back catalogue on our website. This ending is bittersweet, but I carry with me fond memories, new confidence, and a lesson for the future: when in doubt, take that leap.

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