Last March, after much self doubt, I posted this "Read Me First" piece on Substack, and sent an email invitation to a list of about 25 friends. That was the birth of An Immigrant's Journey to (early) Retirement, and the beginning of my self-publishing journey. A year later, IJR has 45 posts in six sections, and a subscriber list of 181.
What a year of writing has taught me! I've learned invaluable lessons and undergone numerous “course corrections” in executing my plan. Practical Lesson No.1—know when it is time to sprint into action and start implementing a “good enough” plan. IJR would not be a better newsletter by more planning but by taking that first step into actual publishing.
I have learned that writing is joyful and writing is healing, just as much as writing is hard and publishing—both self-publishing and seeking to be published by others—is frustrating. There were moments when my thoughts just poured onto the screen, unveiling aspects of myself that had escaped my conscience. Then there were moments I just stared at the screen, feeling I had nothing worth saying. The joy of receiving an editor’s email with “we would like to publish your piece on [a certain date]” was beyond exhilarating. Yet more often than not, months of anticipation were met with “it is not for us …”.
I kept writing.
And I kept submitting to journals and magazines while self-publishing on Substack. Practical Lesson No.2—file away (forget about) the rejection emails and keep submitting, and don’t shy away from the big names (one of my short pieces was accepted by none other than The New York Times). The caveat is that no publisher would accept “previously published” works, and that includes anything you self-publish on digital platforms like Substack or any social media accounts and blogs.
What is your strategy for selecting which of your works you would submit and then patiently waiting for an answer, and which ones you just can’t wait for the world to read so you push the “Publish Now” button on Substack and say “screw you” to publishers?
I have read about the “success formulas” on Substack publishing—narrowing the focus, maintaining a consistent publishing schedule and publishing often, pay-walling comments and discussions, staying active on Note, and so on and so forth. These were the advice from the successful writers so if I also want to be successful, it made sense to follow them.
I started my Substack by publishing every Friday and I turned on the paid subscription on day 1, although there was never a paywall to fence off any of my content but the ability to comment. Not before long I learned that at this stage of my writing, a weekly publishing meant little time for revision and polishing, not to mention that reading took a backseat to writing. What’s worse was paywalled commenting meant little to no interaction with readers. My conclusion? Payment should not be the only way to prove the value of my writing and the fear of trolling should not shut off the channel of communication.
The next obstacle arose from Substack’s limited website development features. I wish writers were given more control over how much of a “nudge” is needed to prompt readers to reach into their wallet to upgrade; how often (if ever) to present email subscribers with membership options when they try to access the website; and more editorial tools are given to writers to create their content presentation style. I reported platform “bugs” and submitted “enhancement requests” (residue habit from the past profession) to the support team only to be told that my input was appreciated and it would be filed for future consideration. A canned answer. I know what it means, another experience from my past profession.
I took matters into my own hands—9 months into launching, I made IJR completely free.
There are many ways to define and achieve success. The highest reward for me at the moment is to write to my heart’s content and build my reader community with no strings attached. Practical Lesson No.3 though—just because there is no pressure of churning out content to fulfill a financially implicated obligation, doesn’t mean I don’t have a commitment to my writing and my readers. So I write every day no matter the publishing schedule, and work on growing IJR and increasing its value to readers.
For my second year on Substack, I want to write when I have meaningful things to say, and to post when I decide the content is ready. I want to be comfortable and genuine when I write, be better every day as a writer, and not conform to any “success models” but be me.
Do you have your practical lessons to share?
We know reading helps with writing. What I learned this past year is that reading should include your own writings. I used to cringe (and sometimes still do) when listening to the recordings of my own music performances or business presentations. Similarly, I did not like to read my writings beyond a 2nd draft. The year of writing has taught me to be patient with the “Publish Now” button and re-read what I consider “the final version” a couple more times. When it reads awkward, it means it is awkward in the writing and some tinkering is in order.
Sometimes, I send the essay to AI models with pointed questions—ah, the Pandora box of AI—before posting. I want to write about my experience with AI in writing in a future posting. If you would like to work together on that hairy and unavoidable subject, please email me, or use the brand new Substack feature of DM (Direct Messaging).
I am still figuring out how much reaching out and self promoting is healthy and is good for boosting readership, without turning Substack into yet another social media platform. I am still figuring out how much interaction is community building before the chatters crowd out my writing time and blurs my writing intention. I write to connect—to self, to nature, and to others—but first and foremost is to have the focus and time to write. It is a delicate balance which I am still practicing.
Do you have some wisdom to share? Are you struggling with the same balancing act?
In the past 12 months, I have discovered so many wonderful stories and even more wonderful writers. I have found mentors and supporters, and made friends with like-minded fellow “Substackers”.
I would not have been on Substack if it weren’t for
for believing in me, and her for hosting my first published piece The Sandwich. When I was hesitating about dipping my toe into the ocean of writing, it was Sari’s “Just write it!” echoing in my mind that pushed me to jump in, heart first. Whenever I am doubting if I am cut out to be a writer, a writer who writes in her non-native English to be specific, I just sit down and read the emails and comments from readers who are strangers, and yet not strangers because of their kindness and encouragement, our shared passion for writing, and our love for life. And I will go right back into writing again.To the 181 subscribers, I want to say “THANK YOU!” from the depth of my heart. I could not have imagined having readers like you a year ago, readers who love what I have to say and cheer me on to write more. Thanks to you I can proudly introduce myself as a writer. How amazing is that!
So I am looking forward to what the second year of being a writer on Substack can bring, not just to me but to you, my dear readers!
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Hi Yi, I resonate so much with all of your observations, experience and frustrations on Substack. As always, you write with such clarity and succinctness. There is a lot I can learn from you.
I am facing the perpectual dilemma which you described very well: the "chatters" that "crowd out my writing time and blurs my writing intention."
It's an ongoing exploration, and let's hope that we will, in time, find the balance that suits our own writing and personal lives.
Your writing and your story is very inspiring. Thank you for sharing your experience and practical lessons.