Sometimes I really make myself cringe. Obviously, at the time, I feel like dying— but fortunately, I live and learn to tell the tale.
So last week, you received an email from me with a link to a live video that didn’t work. It was my first Substack Live, and I spent half an evening with a very bad internet connection in an epic rainstorm trying to get it working. Eventually I did, and it went out—but the quality was terrible, and other technical glitches ensued. I ended up taking it down.
That, while annoying and embarrassing, is not the cringe part. The cringe part is what led me to film the live in the first place.
The evening I filmed that live, I had found myself in a panic spiral. All week I’d been having conversations about writing, AI, the job market, and the confluence of all three. I read and listened to what other people were saying, and I let their voices get in my head. It didn’t look good for me, I feared; who was hiring writers these days when AI could do the job? I’m ashamed to admit it as a writer just because it was such a bad, basic story. The lack of imagination required to buy this banal and frankly pedestrian narrative is so embarrassing, but it gives you an idea of the headspace I was in.
It led me to a grim conclusion: I have to paywall my writing.
For people who read my writing to keep up with me and my thoughts, you might not be aware that this is also what I do for a living. As a freelancer in a dire market for creatives, I thought, how long could I keep doing this for free? In this economy? etc.
I decided that this news should be delivered in person. If you’re reading this today, you are likely one of 40-50% of my mailing list who open and read every piece I publish; over the last four years, you’ve helped me believe that this is what I should be doing. I wasn’t just going to shoot out a perfunctory email that said, “btw I’m charging now, pay up or see you never.” So I got on my very first live so that you could see me and I could talk to you about why I’d come to this decision.
In the time that passed between hitting “end” and the recording reaching your inboxes, I mostly thought, “Oh no.”
“Oh no” because I didn’t believe in what I’d just done. I don’t believe in forcing my readers—who are right here in this economy with me—to pay me. I don’t believe in making my personal writing inaccessible to anyone, period; the reason I’m here is to have conversations with and reach as many people as possible, not to be available only for people who have the resources to access my writing. Yuck. I literally felt sick to my stomach at the idea of it.
So when I saw how bad the recording was, taking it down was the easiest call. I took a few days to think about it before reaching out to you again and now, I have an updated ask for you—this time, there are options.
The fact is, I’m not out here just doing this for fun. As I said, I’m a writer by profession; I do this for a living, and Substack is a platform that enables writers to monetise our craft.
I want whether you pay me or not to be entirely optional; if you enjoy my writing and want to support me so I can keep doing this, a monthly contribution would be like you buying me a coffee, if that doesn’t break the bank. Monthly is also a nice cadence because it keeps me feeling connected to you on a regular basis. There are some other content formats on the way that I may decide to paywall; I’ll be transparent about this when it happens.
So that’s Option 1: you can upgrade your subscription by clicking this button—or keep scrolling for other, no-spend-required ways to support my writing:
Option 2: Just share it, talk about it, tell your friends. If you enjoy a specific piece, hit “share” as soon as you read it. If you think someone would enjoy being a reader, send them this link:
Option 3: Like my posts. There’s a little ♡ at the bottom of every newsletter, and it loves to be booped. Likes also communicate to anyone who comes across my posts that they might be worth reading.
Option 4: If you’re a Substack user, share something quotable to Notes. Being quoted tickles my writer ego just right, but it also helps me to see what resonates with my readers.
However you do it, helping my words get further will help me get further. That’s the nature of the job. And if you’re an employer looking for a writer? This is far from all I do; a website is on the way but for now, connect with me—I’d love to hear from you.
We’ll return to regular scheduled programming this week. A post about authenticity is on the way—I’m asking, “Is it possible to be both online and ourselves?” I’ve a lot to say about it, as you can imagine.
See you there,