In this Write Big session of the #amwriting podcast, host Jennie Nash welcomes Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Jennifer Senior for a powerful conversation about finding, knowing, and claiming your voice.

Jennifer shares how a medication once stripped away her ability to think in metaphor—the very heart of her writing—and what it was like to get that voice back. She and Jennie talk about how voice strengthens over time, why confidence and ruthless editing matter, and what it feels like when you’re truly writing in flow.

It’s an inspiring reminder that your voice is your greatest strength—and worth honoring every time you sit down to write.

TRANSCRIPT BELOW!

THINGS MENTIONED IN THIS PODCAST:

* Jennifer’s Fresh Air interview with Terry Gross: Can’t Sleep? You’re Not Alone

* Atlantic feature story: What Bobby McIlvaine Left Behind

* Atlantic feature story: The Ones We Sent Away

* Atlantic feature story: It’s Your Friends Who Break Your Heart

* The New York Times article: Happiness Won’t Save You

* Heavyweight the podcast

SPONSORSHIP MESSAGE

Hey, it’s Jennie Nash. And at Author Accelerator, we believe that the skills required to become a great book coach and build a successful book coaching business can be taught to people who come from all kinds of backgrounds and who bring all kinds of experiences to the work. But we also know that there are certain core characteristics that our most successful book coaches share. If you’ve been curious about becoming a book coach, and 2026 might be the year for you, come take our quiz to see how many of those core characteristics you have. You can find it at bookcoaches.com/characteristics-quiz.

EPISODE TRANSCRIPT

Jennie Nash

Hi, I’m Jennie Nash, and you’re listening to the Hashtag AmWriting Podcast. This is a Write Big Session, where I’m bringing you short episodes about the mindset shifts that help you stop playing small and write like it matters. This one might not actually be that short, because today I’m talking to journalist Jennifer Senior about the idea of finding and knowing and claiming your voice—a rather big part of writing big. Jennifer Senior is a staff writer at The Atlantic. She won the Pulitzer Prize for feature writing in 2022 and was a finalist again in 2024. Before that, she spent five years at The New York Times as both a daily book critic and a columnist for the opinion page, and nearly two decades at New York Magazine. She’s also the author of a bestselling parenting book, and frequently appears on NPR and other news shows. Welcome, Jennifer. Thanks for joining us.

Jennifer Senior

Thank you for having me. Hey, I got to clarify just one thing.

Jennie Nash

Oh, no.

Jennifer Senior

All Joy and No Fun is by no means a parenting book. I can’t tell you the first thing about how to raise your kids. It is all about how kids change their parents. It’s all like a sociological look at who we become and why we are—so our lives become so vexed. I like, I would do these book talks, and at the end, everybody would raise their hand and be like, “How do I get my kid into Harvard?” You know, like, the equivalent obviously—they wouldn’t say it that way. I’d be like; I don’t really have any idea, or how to get your kid to eat vegetables, or how to get your kid to, like, stop talking back. But anyway, I just have to clarify that, because every time...

Jennie Nash

Please, please—

Jennifer Senior

Someone says that, I’m like, “Noooo.” Anyway, it’s a sociology book. Ah, it’s an ethnography, you know. But anyway, it doesn’t matter.

Jennie Nash

All right, like she said, you guys—not what I said.

Jennifer Senior

I’m not correcting you. It came out 11 years ago. There were no iPads then, or social media. I mean, forget it. It’s so dated anyway. But like, I just...

Jennie Nash

That’s so funny. So the reason that we’re speaking is that I heard you recently on Fresh Air with Terry Gross, where you were talking about an Atlantic feature story that you wrote called “Why Can’t Americans Sleep?” And this was obviously a reported piece, but also a really personal piece and you’re talking about your futile attempts to fall asleep and the latest research into insomnia and medication and therapy that you used to treat it, and we’ll link to that article and interview in the show notes. But the reason that we’re talking, and that in the middle of this conversation, which—which I’m listening to and I’m riveted by—you made this comment, and it was a little bit of a throwaway comment in the conversation, and, you know, then the conversation moved on. But you talked about how you were taking a particular antidepressant you’d been prescribed, and this was the quote you said: “It blew out all the circuitry that was responsible for generating metaphors, which is what I do as a writer. So it made my writing really flat.” And I was just like, hold up. What was that like? What happened? What—everything? So that’s why we’re talking. So… can we go back to the very beginning? If you can remember—Jess Lahey actually told me that when she was teaching fifth and sixth grade, that’s around the time that kids begin to grasp this idea of figurative language and metaphor and such. Do you remember learning how to write like that, like write in metaphor and simile and all such things?

Jennifer Senior

Oh, that’s funny. Do I remember it? I remember them starting to sort of come unbidden in my—like they would come unbidden in my head starting maybe in my—the minute I entered college, or maybe in my teens. Actually, I had that thing where some people have this—people who become writers have, like, a narrator’s voice in their head where they’re actually looking at things and describing them in the third person. They’re writing them as they witness the world. That went away, that narrator’s voice, which I also find sort of fascinating. But, like, I would say that it sort of emerged concurrently. I guess I was scribbling a little bit of, like, short story stuff, or I tried at least one when I was a senior in high school. So that was the first time maybe that, like, I started realizing that I had a flair for it. I also—once I noticed that, I know in college I would make, you know, when I started writing for the alternative weekly and I was reviewing things, particularly theater, I would make a conscientious effort to come up with good metaphors, and, like, 50% of them worked and 50% of them didn’t, because if you ever labor over a metaphor, there’s a much lower chance of it working. I mean, if you come—if you revisit it and go, oh, that’s not—you know, that you can tell if it’s too precious. But now if I labor over a metaphor, I don’t bother. I stop. You know, it has to come instantaneously or...

Jennie Nash

Or that reminds me of people who write with the thesaurus open, like that’s going to be good, right? That’s not going to work. So I want to stick with this, you know, so that they come into your head, you recognize that, and just this idea of knowing, back in the day, that you could write like that—you… this was a thing you had, like you used the word “flair,” like had a flair for this. Were there other signs or things that led you to the work, like knowing you were good, or knowing when something was on the page that it was right, like, what—what is that?

Jennifer Senior

It’s that feeling of exhilaration, but it’s also that feeling of total bewilderment, like you’ve been struck by something—something just blew through you and you had nothing to do with it. I mean, it’s the cliché: here I am saying the metaphors are my superpower, which my editors were telling me, and I’m about to use a cliché, which is that you feel like you’re a conduit for something and you have absolutely nothing to do with