What two months of Substack actually taught me

Reflections from the trenches

It’s been two months since this post, and I thought this could be a good opportunity to assess, and do some reflection on the things I’ve been learning since taking this platform more seriously. The most important one being that the reality of growing a new platform is far less glamorous than it looks. Sometimes the process can feel a lot like a race uphill (maybe you enjoy racing uphill I personally don’t so I chose the worst possible image I had in mind). Being on Substack is fun, but it’s also hard work, and it requires you to show up even when you don’t feel like it or think you have nothing to say. The best part? Showing up usually makes you realize you have something to say, you just have to have the patience and stamina to sit through the discomfort and push through, even when it’s hard. With that being said, I am enjoying my time here and the lessons that have been learning along the way which I have tried to summarize below in the hope some of you mind find them useful or relatable.

1. Change is not a dirty word.

In a world of “personal brands” and ideal customers, change course might look like daunting ordeal. But it doesn’t have to be. When I fret about my About page, or whether I’m being coherent enough, consistent enough, or “authentic” enough, I remind myself that this is a place in becoming. It’s evolving as I evolve, so the likelihood of having everything crystal clear is rather low. And that’s okay. I am allowing this place to be messy, exploratory, and contradictory. The pressure to have a perfectly defined niche or “brand” from the start can be paralyzing. Sometimes you need to write your way into clarity rather than waiting for clarity before you write. I expect this place to evolve from the original idea and that’s ok, what matters is to have a direction even during the times of transition. There is a difference between evolving and being aimless.

2. Self-doubt is here to stay, and the only way is through.

Trust yourself, your process, and your initial vision. It might evolve, but the “why” at the core of it should not. Plant your seeds and give it time to find soil to stick to. Something will bloom, and if not, you can always change course (see lesson 1).

At least that’s my strategy.

I’ve noticed that self-doubt doesn’t disappear with more subscribers or positive feedback. It just shape-shifts. First you doubt whether anyone will read. Then you doubt whether you can sustain it. Then you worry because your growth stalled. Doubt is part of the process, not evidence that you’re doing something wrong. Learning to work alongside it rather than waiting for it to disappear has been one of my biggest lessons.

3. Ask yourself why. Relentlessly.

And be curious about your answers. I used this tactic for my stalled novel too. I went back to the basics and examined the reason behind why I wanted to write it. For every answer, I asked another “why” until I reached the core of it. “Why do you want this publication?” Because I care about self-growth. “Why do you care about self-growth?” And so on so forth, you get the idea.

This exercise can be uncomfortable because it forces you to confront whether your motivations are truly yours or borrowed from what you think you should want. But it’s worth the discomfort. When you hit that bedrock reason, the one that makes you feel something, that’s when you know you’re back to home base. That’s what will keep you going when the numbers don’t move or when you’re staring at a blank page.

4. Experimenting with rhythm and cadence.

You might have noticed I skipped publishing last week. I’m still experimenting with my cadence and rhythm, gathering feedback on what worked, what didn’t, and how to adjust. I realized that for me, once a week is indeed the sweet spot. Less than that I feel disconnected from this place, more than that would just not be sustainable for me. There’s so much advice out there about consistency and publishing schedules, but I’m learning that sustainable rhythm is personal. What works for someone else might burn me out or feel forced. I’m trying to find the pace that challenges me without depleting me, and that takes trial and error.

5. Learning to become your own coach.

Just like in self-growth, we’re often keen on taking other people’s advice, which can be of course beneficial. But we should also learn how to trust our intuition and do what feels right for us. I’m coaching myself throughout this process, developing my own thinking and not being afraid of making mistakes.

This means learning to tailor external guidance to my own benefit. You can rely on the advice of people who have grown on this platform, but ultimately this is your experience, so make sure not to follow the advice blindly when it doesn’t serve your particular vision.

While I have always been happy to be learning from others what I have come to realize is that others can’t teach you to walk your own path. This is very personal and specific to you. Take that course to learn the tools, but for the rest let trial and errors be your teachers.

6. Connection is key

There’s so much talent here and a wealth of information, so many brilliant writers to learn from. This pushes me to always want to contribute in the most meaningful way and add up to the conversation in a way that is thoughtful, kind and enriching. I value the connections I am making here, I respect people and their time, and I hope it shows in my comments.

7.Writing generates more writing.

And more inspiration. It’s a gift that keeps on giving. It’s only through writing that I discover how much I have to say. I was worried this project would hijack my actual novel writing, and at times I thought it had. But passed the initial enthusiasm, I have settled into a rhythm that seems to work. The two processes are parallel yet intertwined, and they feed off each other. I’m learning things here that I apply to my other writing life, and vice versa. The techniques I share, the advice I give to others, these are all things I try for myself as well. It’s truly a little experimental lab, where ideas are tried and tested and I love it for that. Before I write something I ask myself how can I express this in a way that doesn’t sound like everybody else’s words? I am sure I don’t always succeed but I keep trying because part of my goal for being here is to become a better writer. The act of generating more words across different genres and posts is a good exercise for my writing muscles and so, with this aim, I try to be the most effective I can.

8. Consistency is not boredom

I am someone that gets tired of things pretty easily. I often jump from project to project and I need that diversity. However, I am learning to train my consistency here and so far I haven’t strayed. I want to see what it looks like when I put maximum effort into something during a prolonged amount of time without immediate benefits. What things can I discover, when I am willing to give it my all even if I don’t know what’s coming out if it?

There’s something about the regularity of Substack that keeps the creative channels open. Even on days when I don’t feel particularly inspired, the practice of sitting down and working through ideas keeps me agile and connected to what I want to express in across the different mediums I use for writing.

And that’s it, if you read up to here, well done and thank you for your time.

Someone once told me, think of advice as a basket of fresh fruit. Pick the ones you enjoy eating and leave the rest for someone else. Whatever fruit you’ll pick I hope it’ll be delicious and will give you something to think about today.

Next time we’ll talk about presence, how important it is to our writing process, and I will also be sharing the switch that prompted me to rewrite my draft.