15 Days on Substack: Reflections, Lessons & Gratitude
Confessions of a smut writer who hit “publish” anyway
I made my first post on Substack on July 10th, introducing myself and my writing to exactly ZERO subscribers. When I post this, two weeks later, over 100 people will receive an email or notification; some of them have even paid for the privilege (!!); my posts have been viewed nearly 8,000 times; and today I was #35 on Substack’s “Rising” list for fiction.
I could not be more grateful and humbled as I am today of the progress I’ve made this month. As any writer will attest, there is something profoundly gratifying knowing that even a single person is reading your work - real time data that proves your work is being read, and likes, comments and restacks that indicate it’s not just being read but enjoyed, is tremendously motivating.
BUT... as any new Substack writer who didn’t come to the platform with their own email list and/or social following will also attest, sending out that first post to a subscriber-base of nobody and a non-existent readership is an anxiety fraught ordeal.
AND THEN... you are armed with the data that literally no one read, or maybe even saw, your first post. Finding the courage to hit publish on the next few posts is much, much harder.
But you have to do it! By my third post, I had six subscribers - and good lord did that feel good!
I decided to start my Substack because I already had a significant chunk of Tropical Permission written and ready to post, something I would highly advise for anyone thinking about starting out here. If I didn’t have close to half a manuscript’s worth of edited chapters that I could format and publish, I don’t know that I would have been able to stick around for the loneliness and uncertainty of those first few days.
My Substack may be new, and publishing fiction is new for me, but I’ve been writing, either for myself or in professional settings, for my whole life. I have confidence in my writing abilities. But believing you’re a strong writer and believing others want to read what you write are two distinct acts of faith. Luckily, my work found not just readers, but community - one of my most important discoveries in my short time here.
I can only speak to my own experience in the little corner of Substack where my time is spent (erotic fiction), but finding and engaging with that community has been nearly as rewarding as my work being appreciated - and also integral to its appreciation.
We’d all love to believe “my work stands on its own”, and we should! We should certainly write with that mindset. Trust in one’s originality and voice is absolutely crucial. But the reality of an algorithm-driven, pseudo-social media platform like Substack is that if others aren’t engaging with you and your writing, you are the proverbial tree falling alone in the forest.
While algorithm-driven discovery is its own endlessly debatable topic, and debate seems to have reached consensus that the Substack algo leaves much to be desired, it nevertheless helped readers find me. Even more important is that it helped me find other writers to read and enjoy - writers whose work I support with subscriptions, likes, restacks and recommendations and who just as often do the same for me.
My most viewed post - by far! - is a short story titled “No Condom. No Pulling Out.” The clickbait-y title certainly didn’t hurt, but it was restacks from other authors with exponentially more subscribers than me (@miahill - I’m looking at you, girl! ❤️) that really drove reads. That one story has nearly a quarter of my total views. It also netted me eight subs, when the vast majority of my subscribers usually come from the app feed.
Writing is not zero sum. Far from it. If I like what you’re committing to the page, chances are my subscribers and followers will too. Reading begets reading. So connect with - and support! - your fellow writers.
Now, let’s talk paid. I turned on paid subscriptions on Monday, a decision I was, and remain, deeply skeptical about. To be very clear, I would love nothing more than to supplement, or even make, my living writing fiction. But to the extent I have a plan to that effect, Substack income was - and still isn’t - a part of it.
My goal with Substack (and Reddit, where I also post under u/LydiaHaverly) was always to build some readership and name I.D. prior to self-publishing Tropical Permission on Kindle Unlimited. That’s still my goal. But Substack, for obvious reasons, prioritizes growth and discovery of paid accounts - i.e. accounts that it can potentially grab 10% from.
So, I turned on paid. Again, my goal was eyeballs, not dollar signs, so I did two things to try and make that clear to my current subscribers: 1) I priced my monthly and annual subscription at the lowest prices* Substack allows (and kept the prices static even if Apple or Google is taking a cut) and 2) I committed to my readers that my writing would remain free, implementing a paid tier that gets early access to my posts, but opening them up to everyone after a set time period.
*Can we talk about why it’s so high?? I really wanted to do a $1-2 monthly subscription price but $5 is as low as you can go.
Why am I still deeply skeptical about the decision? In the five days since I went paid, my page views have dropped significantly - and the whole point of this Substack-periment was to get eyeballs on my words!
That being said, I wouldn’t be featured in the fiction “rising” list if my stack was still free. And I do feel like my subscriber growth has been slightly better than before, but I haven’t crunched the numbers to see if that’s true. Nor will I!
This post is going out free - because I think/hope my experience could be informative and helpful to others just starting out.
We get deluged with posts that talk about exponential growth. And on forums outside the platform you hear story after story of people posting into a void for weeks or months with no or little subscribers. My experience falls in between, certainly closer to the latter but with elements of each. And I think my experience is closer to reality for those who approach Substack with some writing chops, a commitment to posting, and a willingness to engage with the community your writing is relevant to.
So let me close by saying to those of you reading who only have a couple posts under their belt - or maybe haven’t made your first - you can find an audience here. You can find a community here. You can find tremendous creative fulfillment here.
I don’t know if you can find a pot of gold, but that’s not the particular rainbow I’m chasing. If you take that mindset, and keep posting and engaging and discovering, I truly believe you’ll find sharing your work and yourself on this platform to be a genuinely meaningful experience as an artist.
Thank you for reading.
❤️💋
- L.H.