Writing is for everyone.

Why I’m still here, one year later

August 20th marked my one-year anniversary on Substack.

In a way, I don’t think of it as a true anniversary since I didn’t start writing consistently on here until March of this year, when I promised myself I wouldn’t miss a week of publishing. Reaching the end of 2024, as I promised myself in that declaration, will feel like the true celebration to me.

But I’d be remiss not to honor the date I first published on here. The date that I got courageous and owned up to something I’d been wanting to honor in myself for a long, long time. The date that I gave myself permission to see what might happen.

Here I am, one year later, definitely with a lot still to learn. But I also recognize in myself some positive shifts—the smallest of shifts, but they are there nonetheless. And that feels exciting.

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If you spend any amount of regular time on the Substack app or are a Substack author yourself, you’ve likely seen this viral essay from

Emily Sundberg

this past month on the state of Substack publications today.

The TLDR; is that the increasing amount of “low-brow” content from Substack writers is lowering the bar of writing quality on the platform, a threat perceived largely by journalists-turned-Substack-writers.

Now was this piece offensive? Yes.
Was it thoughtful? Yes
Was there some truth to her writing? Yes.

The fact that it’s caused such a stir in people and I’m now chiming in on that conversation myself is proof enough of the divisiveness of her opinion.

I decided to write about it today not to criticize or convince, but rather to explore my reactions to her piece, as they showed me valuable information about myself and where I stand one year into this writing journey.

First and foremost, I do not agree that there should be limitations on what and how people choose to write here. Substack should not be an exclusive place. As a new-ish writer, I am very grateful for the way the platform allows me to find and connect with readers and writers. I don’t think that would've happened as readily if I had a stand-alone domain. A comment on Sundberg’s post that stood out to me is that any effort someone puts forth to writing (be it publicly or privately) is better than none at all. I wholeheartedly agree.

Where I took issue with her words was the harshness with which they were delivered. In particular, I cringed at her line “this platform has become a really good way for women to monetize their diary entries.” (Immediate voice in head - omg, am I writing diary entries?)

However, when I read the rest of that line—“lists, random thoughts, and (easy to write) roundups of ‘what I’ve been doing’ do really well on this site”—it stirred something in me. 

It made me feel validated for being perturbed by the link curations trend (an idea I jotted down once is “Are link round-ups dopamine hits?”) and her thought struck that chord. I'm writing longer form essays because that is how I work out my thoughts. So I thought there was some credibility in that regard. 

Where I applaud Sundberg is her boldness and ability to take a firm stance on what is sure to be personal. I admire that because strongly articulating a point of view without a disclaimer or apology is something I want to improve on myself, while being compassionate and holding space for others’ perspectives in a non-exclusionary way.

I think ultimately what her article is really about is taste. And how the mass population’s taste can be influenced without conscious awareness, due to algorithms promoting sameness. Ezra Klein had an incredibly smart episode about this at the onset of this year that I highly recommend.

Essentially, he argues that in order to know how you really feel about art (i.e. develop your taste) you have to remove yourself from the hamster wheel of passive consumption and the thought trap of how you think you should feel. You’ll likely also have to put forth a little effort, because for better or worse, in today’s society we have been conditioned to have little patience for comprehension.

So in that regard, Sundberg appears to be frustrated not with the writers themselves, but with the ways in which Substack's algorithm is reinforcing a specific kind of taste, one that she clearly doesn’t share. 

And that's an idea I can get behind. It’s partially the inspiration for The Conscious Consumer, for I believe in thinking critically about what you consume because it’s so easily influenced by algorithms and popularity.

Now, when it comes to my writing, I do a good enough job on my own feeding myself limiting beliefs. And I certainly don’t need more material for that. (What I do need is more material that encourages creativity, such as these wise words from author

Chelsea Bieker

.)

Oddly enough, I wasn’t discouraged by Sundberg’s piece in the end. It actually fired me up a bit, because I know I deserve to have my voice be heard, critics be damned. I believe there’s space for all voices in this world, if we allow it. 

—

As I enter into my second year of this publication, it felt important to take a beat and understand why I am writing, what I am looking for.

I write to understand myself better, to find and own my voice. To know what I think, where I stand on something. To reflect, to process. I write to say all the things that are hard for me to say out loud because I either don't know I'm thinking them yet or hold so much emotion that it is harder to be thoughtful and articulate.

I write to honor the impulse, curiosity, desire, and inner child inside me. I write to hopefully connect with others and to ultimately create the deeper conversations and connection and community I am craving. I write because I am convinced, deep in my bones, that something incredible will happen and it will take me where I want to go.

“The gift is the impulse to write. To create. That impulse is there for a reason, and it is guiding you.”

In a creativity talk I attended last month, Portland-based authors Chelsea Bieker (mentioned above) and Kimberly King Parsons talked about centering your why over your desired outcome. Outcome for me is my subscriber count. While small by any textbook definition, it is nothing to discount as it has slowly but surely increased. What matters more to me though than getting new subscribers is receiving engagement. Establishing connections with you, readers, and hopefully taking some of these conversations we’re having from online to offline (or at least off Substack).

To any of you readers who have ever “hearted” a post or left a comment or sent me a DM or remarked offline on something I wrote—thank you from the bottom of my heart. Truly. You are what keeps me going when my inner critic threatens to get in the way. (A special shoutout goes to

Lauren Scott

and

Brenna

, admirable writers I met on here whose support means the world. Thank you, thank you, thank you!)

I can't wait to see what year two brings. 💖

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