Last night, I was reading some substacks that fell into the bucket of writers who don't take themselves too seriously (in the best way possible). I mean people who write casually about niche topics most people don't care about, and don't have the most thoroughly scrutinized arguments but put them out anyway.
It gave me a wind of inspiration because it feels like I can do that too. To be someone who publishes regularly about stuff that's interesting to a humble group of people and has a cultish following on Twitter. I know some of those things are status related, but the essence is to be a person who has an idea and shares it with the world in a somewhat unique and interesting way, and adds at least a little bit of value to someone's life.
It feels like an epiphany because this is what I want out of writing on the internet. To write to test out ideas, to self express, to turn thoughts into words, to articulate, because it might be fun, to impress someone, to keep a record, to see if I can, because one person in the world might like it.
For me, there is something magnetic about this style of writing. Personal, niche creation. To read something that could have only been written by the person who wrote it. Publishing pieces that are a bit less polished and a bit more raw and authentic. Writing with realness and a splash of nonchalance.
When I did my 30 days of blogging experiment, I didn't publish pieces to my substack because I was worried about spamming my whole mailing list with decidedly lower quality writing. In hindsight, I'm conflicted on this choice. Yes, there was some bad writing. Like this one where I write about wanting to fast and experience ketosis. I'm not sure that added value to anyone.
But, we tend to be bad judges of our own work. A common trope for internet creators is that the low-effort, spur of the moment video/essay/tiktok is the one of that resonates with people the most while the one they poured their soul into goes flat.
My solution to this is the be radically open to what people have to say and think about your work. To consistently produce and share. I have a running note with ideas for things to write about. There are 46 items in this note. When I have an urge to write, I'll usually open up this note and see which idea I'm drawn to.
Most of the time, I'll find one and start writing but get stuck because I realize that I don't actually have that much to say about it. The ideas that typically make it out of my text editor and on to the internet are the ones I put off but keep thinking about. Eventually, the idea brews enough for me to have enough to say about it.
In all honestly, I don't think I'm a good enough writer that even my polished and well thought out pieces are going to be significantly better than what are basically just my journal entries. If you can't be good, put out of lot of shit am I right?
Daily blogging lowered the bar for how much I had to say, but I'd like a way to lower the bar for what I have to say. That's what I'm trying to do—be more open to sharing seeds of ideas and opening up my thought process. If I'm open enough about this, and can output enough work, I think there are enough people out there going through similar thought processes for my writing to be valuable.
I think the world is a fundamentally better place when more people can access authentic and meaningful conversation—even if it's asynchronously. My favorite podcast, Not Overthinking, is my favorite because it feels like I'm part of a conversation that I want to have but can't get anywhere else.
That's also what I try to do with my own podcast. I want to talk about topics that people think about, but for whatever reason, don't come up in conversation—even with their close friends. So far, that's been stuff like relationships, therapy, making friends, and feeling out of place. When we hear these things—conversations we desperately seek—we feel acknowledged and closer to one another.
For me, writing is an underexplored avenue to achieve this. This is an objectively not great piece of writing. I've been disorganized and incoherent at times, and it won't resonate for many people. But I think it's authentic. And for the right person, I hope it makes perfect sense.
Also…
I’ve been struggling to find good pictures/art/thumbnails to pair with writing I publish on substack. If anyone has any advice or suggestions, please let me know.
The substacks that inspired this: