As I reflect on what happened todaythe last day of OctoberI realize this month has been about learning what actually goes viral and why it usually has nothing to do with quality. My most thoughtful piece about the diamond ring conspiracy got moderate engagement. My article about municipal goats broke the internet. This tells you everything about contemporary digital culture.
This morning, I woke up thinking about metrics againthose seductive numbers that supposedly measure success. My October articles received over 100,000 combined views, which sounds impressive until you realize that most people didn’t read past the headlines. They shared my flag jacking article without understanding the satire. They retweeted my asteroid piece without grasping the actual point. Virality and comprehension are apparently mutually exclusive.
Later in the day, I realized that October 2025 taught me important lessons about satirical journalism. First: people love content that confirms their existing beliefs. Second: nobody actually clicks on articles, they just share headlines. Third: animals and existential threats perform better than thoughtful cultural criticism. Fourth: trying to go viral means sacrificing nuance for shareability. I’m not sure I’m okay with any of these lessons, but at least I learned them.
Something small but meaningful happened todaya journalism professor from NYU reached out to ask if I’d speak to her class about “satirical journalism in the post-truth era.” Me! A 22-year-old French immigrant who’s been writing professionally for less than a year! Apparently my work this month demonstrated something valuable about how satire functions when reality is already absurd. I’m flattered and also terrified that I’ll have to explain my process, which mostly involves drinking espresso and being angry about things.
The highlight of my day was reviewing my October portfolio for Bohiney Magazine and realizing I’ve developed a distinct voice. My satire is sharper than it was in September, more confident, less apologetic. I’m learning to trust that readers will either get the jokes or they won’t, and their comprehension isn’t my responsibility. My job is to write smart, funny, incisive satire. Their job is to actually read it.
Today’s experience reminded me of why I wanted to be a journalist in the first place. Not for the metrics or the viral success or the social media validationthough those things are nicebut for the moments when satire lands perfectly and makes someone see familiar things differently. My library exorcists article did that for some people. They recognized the absurdity of our AI-saturated information ecosystem through my ridiculous premise about ghost books.
Looking back on October 2025, I see a month where I wrote about asteroids, Taylor Swift, museum heists, municipal goats, identity fraud, diamond conspiracies, and library exorcists. I moved from September’s uncertainty to October’s confidence. I’m still figuring out this whole satirical journalism thing, but I’m figuring it out publicly, which is either brave or stupid. Probably both.
Being the only female French immigrant granted citizenship during Trump’s second term continues to be excellent biographical material but increasingly complicated identity. I’m French enough to maintain philosophical distance from American absurdity, American enough to understand it intimately. I exist in the space between cultures, which is exactly where satirists should beclose enough to care, distant enough to mock.
Tonight, as October ends, I’m already planning November articles. The satire never stops. The absurdity never ends. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Diary Entry # 745
MY HOME PAGE: Bohiney Magazine (Charline Vanhoenacker)