Why Substack still works
Two and half years here. A little update as to what this platform offers readers and writers. (and a little discount code to sign up)
I have written a newsletter (of some kind) for ten years. Mainly on the side of jobs to inject a bit of creativity into my life. I love the format: an email missive, like a letter, landing in each person’s inbox. Back in 2014, I was a big fan of TinyLetter, a little platform run by MailChimp. The New York Times called it “like ye old blog but less public.” The Verge called it “the humblest newsletter service, nurturing great personal writing on the internet.” The Guardian called it “the mini saviour of modern poetry.” It was so calm and basic, and you could only have 5,000 subscribers max, it had the simplest of interfaces. It was an easy way to write to people. I really enjoyed it. Then it shut down. Thankfully, Substack stepped in a few years later.
I have been wary of calling myself “a Substacker.” I’m a writer. I’m writing my 9th book as we speak. But I can’t help but feel really aligned to this platform, as long as it stays the right home for my writing. One of the things I would say I’m good at (and it has helped me keep writing for all these years) is my ability to keep my blinkers on. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but I don’t really care that much about what other people are doing on their own corners of the Internet (unless it’s really harmful and obvs should be shut down). But I don’t need to keep tabs on other people. I unfollowed everything on my public Insta account. I read books, follow a handful of people on here, do my job, read the news (physical newspapers including The New York Times) and focus on living my own life. I’m a hyper-sensitive person and honestly: if I allowed myself to go into digital rabbit-holes every day I don’t think I’d be able to function. Emotional and physical regulation is where it’s at.
I stay focused on my own corner, stay committed to finding joy, stay open and generous with what I have to share, follow a handful of people. I find that ‘inspiration’ sits very closely to ‘comparison’. I try to choose inspiration. When comparison takes a seat and quietens down, I can just simply follow my favourite writers and be inspired. It’s a much nicer feeling.
So, I’ve made a cosy little home on The Hyphen. I started blogging when I was 18, so it’s quite funny that I’m still doing the same job, essentially. But I like that. We know the universe works in spirals, round and round we all go. Planets orbiting the sun and we orbit the same things over and over and learn difficult lessons along the way.
So, why is Substack working?
We want cultural curators again. According to a brand strategist (on TikTok, lol) the gatekeepers all got killed off (magazines, editor in chiefs etc) but now the algorithm has flattened everything and we’re being served utter rubbish in our newsfeeds, so we sort of need curators again. People who can point us towards the good stuff. I believe this is why we’re enjoying Substack (and why my Sunday Scroll newsletters are proving popular). I really enjoy Ochuko Akpovbovbo’s newsletter in which she rounds up all the latest Internet culture trends. It keeps me in the loop, from someone smart.
“It’s a tough market” in publishing. (Big yikes). A recent guest post by Gill Paul in The Bookseller magazine says it how it is — and perhaps explains why authors are looking elsewhere to share and publish their work outside the traditional system. She says we need to be more ‘emotionally resilient’. My question is: do we really need to be ‘more resilient’ — or does the system need to treat people better? Or at the very least, manage expectations?
“It’s a difficult market, we’re told. Authors who’ve been published multiple times, who’ve made bestseller lists and been Richard & Judy picks, are finding it hard to get a new deal. I know several experienced authors who are currently out of contract, and I’ve read in online author groups that editors are taking up to six months to respond to submissions. How do we authors hold our nerve while waiting for news?” — Gill Paul, The Bookseller
A good way to hold your nerve, I think, is to find something you enjoy outside ‘the system’ and keep going with it. And to find a community (online or offline) of people you can talk to. I’ve found that here.
Many of us missed the noughties blogging era. It was so fun.
We need more joy - we’ve been starved of it. Newsletters allow people to geek out on their joy and share it with people.
Freedom to write what we want. A good editor is absolutely vital, but writers often get stripped of their voices when commissioned to sound like the magazine’s ‘voice’ instead of their own.
Writing regularly makes you a better writer.
You can pause whenever you want. I can pause my Substack whenever I’m feeling exhausted. You can pause whenever you like, too.
I don’t get notifications on Substack. I’ve turned them off. I can see when people have commented when I log in but beyond that: nothing.
I enjoy buying stuff via recommendations here! I love
— it’s so cosy. Whether it’s a chic table mat or a lamp or a hotel recommendation, I like her taste.Access to some of the world’s best authors.
is here, for example, sharing whatever he’s into and just simply having fun.Change is coming. Whether it’s AI, big businesses, work culture, the way we earn money. Why not experiment with new platforms just for fun and follow your intuition?
Social media is grossing a lot of us out now.
The energy exchange is pure here. No adverts. You pay someone directly for their words and expertise. (This is how humans survived for thousands of years btw before The Industrial Revolution and big corporations — we simply paid each other for our art/poems/things.)
A platform for writers, finally. My Instagram has dwindled for two years. I put no effort into it. I occasionally post my outfits or random views outside a hotel window. I don’t care about it, so it has stagnated. Substack on the other hand: I bring my energy here. I bring my thoughts, ideas, writing, recommendations, everything. I love to show up here.
Happy to have you here — and I’m happy to be here.