My honest thoughts about Substack

In 2022, which feels so long ago now, I was in a total career crisis. The traditional publishing model was not working out for me at all. I was writing books prolifically, and they were selling—not millions, but enough to know there was an audience, and yet: I could not make ends meet from writing. The maths did not math. The advances did not stretch and I rarely received my royalty statements on time. So many elements of the industry were wearing me down.

No doubt about it, this platform I’m writing on has absolutely changed my life. Every element of it. I work for myself, and do not have a management team anymore. I have not worked with a brand for years. I do not need to flog anything on any social media platform. I get to write every day. I did my first US book tour because of my growing American readership on Substack. I am paid directly for my words. After 10 years working with the ‘big five’, I self-published a book for the first time this year, because my audience here gave me the confidence to try it, and I have already made a significant profit directly from the book. There are no middlemen.

On a panel at SXSW London last year, I was invited to speak about my newsletter alongside two other Substackers, a big fashion writer, and a journalist who had built a thriving newsletter for local news. We went for dinner afterwards at Bistro Freddie. I ordered steak.

I remember during the panel discussion, with bright stage lighting shining in my face, I was asked a question about ‘growth’.

I said I was more interested in maintaining what I have. The audience looked disappointed. They wanted me to talk about growth strategy. They wanted hard numbers, a neat formula for selling to advertisers. I had no tips or hacks, apart from this: I write a lot.

I have grown my newsletter list slowly and steadily since 2015(!), and then when I moved to Substack, I gained new subscribers from writing every week.

I went to a party a couple of years ago in New York and met a woman who sold her Substack newsletter to a major news outlet for millions. Wow—but not what I’m doing here.

I just want to write my newsletter and maintain a livelihood and keep my overheads low.

In a tiny bookshop in Porto a couple of weeks ago, I met some of my Substack readers who were interesting, funny and we had so much in common. How cool is this? I thought to myself. This is what I dreamed the Internet could be: a way to find your people, wherever they are in the world.

I was invited to a Substack Summer Party in June, and it fell on my birthday. I decided to go; it was a fete, and there would be a book swap, and I knew I’d enjoy seeing some writer friends. So my husband and I went along after a lovely dinner on The Strand.

I got talking to someone who said: “Aren’t you worried that Substack will change and get ruined? They seem to want to focus on video now?”

“Interesting,” I said. Thinking to myself: I’ll do what I always do, keep writing, and follow my intuition.

Behind them was a very well-known celebrity, someone who wasn’t actively posting on Substack, posing for Getty images.

This newsletter may have peaked in 2024. It was the sweet spot: a new tool people were discovering, and I was gaining thousands of new subscribers every week. Now it's a much busier place. My graph now looks like an upside-down smile.

“Do you think all the Twitter people are joining Substack now?” My friend texted me.

“Maybe,” I responded.

I watched an interview with Hunter Harris recently about building her Substack. She has almost 200k subscribers and writes brilliantly about pop culture. She spoke about how “tunnel vision is a business model”. I’ve always thought this. The best strategy you’ll ever have as a creative person is putting your blinkers on.

Someone tried to gossip to me about something happening on Substack at a book launch recently, how people were really annoyed about something or other. She had been drinking and I hadn’t, so we were on slightly different wavelengths, and I managed to change the conversation.

Tunnel vision is a business sanity model.

When I heard the powers that be were rolling out ‘brand partnerships’ and you could create your own ‘creator kit’, I tried to be open-minded at first. I think this is going to be a really great tool for a lot of people. But then, my whole body said no. As long as I can run this newsletter supported by readers, I do not want a brand infiltrating the vibe I’ve worked so hard to create. Of course it depends on the brand and sometimes it can work really well—but I don’t want to flog products here.

One of my older mentors once said to me, years ago: “No amount of money is worth losing people’s trust.”

I’m sat in my garden writing this. I’m going to take a little break from the newsletter in August—to refill my cup, as Substack can feel quite ‘always-on’ sometimes. I’ve launched two books this year, and I’m feeling a little depleted.

“Have a Summer,” My husband said to me yesterday.

Maybe things will change here, maybe maybe—but for now: writing this newsletter really is the best, most enjoyable job I’ve ever had. Truly so grateful for you, reading this, being here.