My brain is fried this week due to it putting together a free guide to making your Substack logo which I’ve created for new subscribers. Feel free to forward the link to anyone who looks like they need help with theirs (without sounding rude about it obviously). If you’re already a subscriber and interested in having a look, let me know.
If a blog post falls in the forest and no one hears it, does it make a sound? Of course not. Which is why we’re here on Substack, writing to be read, in the hope that we’ll create recognition, get positive feedback and new subscribers. It’s ok to admit to this.
And yet also a bit gross at the same time, because as soon as we start thinking about being read, we can’t help but start editing to make sure our words (and therefore our very souls) are readable, loveable, clickable. It can feel like we’re compromising our authenticity.
But I’d argue that that’s what makes great writing - when you acknowledge that there’s another person involved. It’s polite. Otherwise you’d be giving people a stream of consciousness, a boring shopping list as if you’re expecting them to make sense of it.
As the reader I shouldn’t have to do the work to enjoy the piece; that should have been done for me. Just like I don’t expect to go and watch a film and have to cut the scenes together before I can take my seat.
But there’s a balance to be had for sure
Because writing to get clicks doesn’t work either, of course. Those cheap pieces on Substack that promise “Do this one thing to get a thousand subscribers,” are the equivalent to those “Bowels: a simple trick to empty them completely” headlines that you see at the bottom of Daily Mail articles so I’ve heard I couldn’t possibly comment.
So how do we get that balance right, between staying true to ourselves and shaping our words in a way we think others will appreciate them?
I think it helps to recognise when we’re cutting parts of ourselves out of fear of rejection versus when we’re editing to bring clarity to our message.
It's at this point I recommend going the full Daniel Day Lewis
Day Lewis is known for getting deep into character by either living as them or learning new skills. To say he’s a method actor is an understatement:
🥄 He spent almost the entire shoot of My Left Foot in a wheelchair, demanding to be spoon fed
🛶 He learnt how to build canoes for his role in The Last of the Mohicans
😳 He went into solitary confinement and stayed awake for three nights in prep for In the Name of the Father
🇨🇿 He taught himself Czech for The Unbearable Lightness of Being, even though the film was in English.
👻 He may (or may not) have seen his father’s ghost during a production of Hamlet
His ability to believe so fervently that he is the character he’s playing ensures that audiences are swept along with him.
And don’t knock it: he’s the only actor to ever win three Best Actor Oscars.
As writers we can do the same
Because it’s authenticity that resonates - you’ll have noticed this yourself. Just like a piece of French brie is so much more filling than a packet of Wotsits; your heart and soul is what makes your best pieces unique and satisfying, so it needs to remain intact.
Not easy though. You’re putting your warts and all out there on the line so it’s brutal if no one likes it. It’s what makes it so tempting, especially when you know you have to post something, to chuck a packet of crisps on the plate instead. If no one likes it then it doesn’t mean no one likes you.
But those pieces tend to be flat and easily ignored and they’ll stand out even less once more AI-driven content surrounds us.
So we have to let it all hang out, and think about editing in terms of amplifying what’s raw about us, shaping that so it's clear and connects with people, rather than diluting it in case we’re judged.
The challenge is to notice the difference, but by going ‘method’ it’s probably easier to recognise when we’re sanding off parts of ourselves out of fear of rejection versus when we’re editing to make sure our ‘character’ remains intact. What do you think?
Thanks to everyone who read, liked, commented or shared my piece last week ‘I have a problem with nostalgia’. I loved all the chat, especially this one from Luke: “Had a real tough day and just flaked on the sofa and read this article, brilliant stuff and totally resonates.”
Loved this, Faith! The constant fear of a writer that no one will read their work or EVERYONE will read their work is real! Here’s to letting it all hang out
This disappointed me - you know why? It was too short and the words just flew by and I wanted to keep reading and then it was suddenly finished. But hey, this is what great writing does - makes you thirst for more!
(sorry for that clickbaity opening sentence, I couldn't resist)
Your newsletter is fascinating - it's always a case of 'what will she write about next?' There's such a diverse mix and they are always such compelling reads.
You've so concisely captured the dilemma many writers face and something gets lost when people bang on about being true to yourself and writing what you want. There's merit in that, but there's also value and a challenge in developing yourself as a writer by combining your passions with a growing audience's expectations. We writers should look at that as fun and healthy. It keeps us fresh. Otherwise, you're spot on - it's a stream of consciousness, which might be cathartic for writers, but your audience might start to tire and think, 'here we go again.'
I think we all know that, to a certain extent, Notes on this platform is a bit of a performance. There's an oft-repeated sentiment of 'oh no, my audience is growing, what do i write about now?' Never mind, just write what you want! No, cater to your audience! Stay true to yourself! Contradictory ideas, sure, but it keeps things real.
I'm rambling again!