I've been writing/wrestling with this topic for the last month or so, finally getting some engagement on posts after being on here close to three years with a fairly stable audience but not much feedback despite my persistent efforts. I'd recently filtered and then deleted about 90 or so subscribers that hadn't opened anything in over six months as one way to care less about the numbers and more about the people who open and read my stuff. Then it happened: a photo I posted on notes went viral with all sorts of comments, likes and restacks (approaching 8K likes as of this writing) and it felt weeeeiiird, like I'd been swept into something completely out of my control. I started out checking the stats for fun and after a few days it became almost like an obsession.
It's been a joy to have brief conversations with some people, and I've gotten close to 100 subscribers from it which is totally insane because I'm not doing anything differently other than constantly trying to write things I believe are important to talk about. I don't want this to be yet another thing I do on social, it's way more important to my heart than that. So I just sit here observing and wondering...WTF?
Yes! I didn't get into it here, but I also had a note go viral in December, a really short one that I didn't think very hard about when I wrote it.
And it was so weird to see it just take off for no obvious reason. And people subscribing to me after reading ONE sentence? What?? Was my note that brilliant or was it just that the system wanted to get me a little more hooked, so it doled out some traffic?
Such a strange experience. It feels like you're being celebrated but at the same time the algorithm is also saying " don't get all cocky thinking it's anything you've done lady!"
Joy, I'm so glad you wrote about this as it is something I've been ruminating on lately, too. Dopamine addiction is so real. I'm *trying* to be better at recognizing unhealthy patterns (refreshing my Substack dashboard, mindlessly scrolling Notes, etc.) and pivoting to healthier ones, like going outside for a walk, breathing fresh air (how delightful, btw?!), and stowing away all digital distractions and just being present with my kids when they're home from school. It's a constant work in progress, but I have found that deleting the app helps. I've also learned that I'm much more engaged and thoughtful about my time and postings whenever I use my laptop to interact with the platform. And, probably most importantly, I've been more conscientious about tying my self-worth to metrics. For every negative self-talk sentence, I actively work to replace with a positive one, such as: "My writing isn't good enough to reach a wide audience" to "I'm still learning, and I've reached a classroom full of folks who needed my words. That's something, not nothing." Thank you for bringing this "trap" to our attention because I do feel it is something that we could all be more mindful of.
Right there with you without any answers…but here’s something to ponder. While the addictive nature of the medium can be a problem, it can also be leveraged to get you writing. I leveraged my audience feedback cravings to get myself to write a whole book. I don’t think I could have done it without them.
But the yuckiness creeps in. It always creeps in. I don’t know. I hope the answer isn’t abstinence, but for some of us it might be. Only time will tell.
Yes -- I do find the interactive nature of Substack more motivating than getting pieces published in literary journals. Mostly because the journals don't generally do a lot of promotion or keep the author clued in to any reactions to the piece. (I even wrote a piece about this problem for Lit Mag News).
Thank you for putting my thoughts into words. It is strange. I tried posting at different times of the day and night, but it made no difference. Short nonsense notes attracted a lot of traffic, where my more substantial notes went almost unnoticed.
Hi, Joy. I’m one of those folk who’ve come out of (alcohol) addiction, nuked my social media, joined Substack, aaand I find myself getting dopamine hits from notifications, like an online gambler who gets sucked into the animations and sounds of finally hitting a bonus round. And I know Substack intends to do that, because it is social media, no matter how it tries to market itself otherwise.
Dana nails the sensations that I feel now-that cognitive dissonance where I know it’s unhealthy, and I can’t help it. And it feels like I now have to take measures to reduce Substack consumption by upgrading my online and offline habits. The tricky part is, I have what seems like a valid reason to continue: a desire to lay the foundations for a new career in helping people. Also, boy, have I learned a lot here. Masses and masses of new (to me) information. I joke with my partner that I’ve learned more about how life works from Substack in the last year than I did in a year of formally studying life in my biochemistry degree.
So I’m in this peculiar place. Am I using Substack or is it using me? Is it a legitimate tool or an escape from reality? Who is in the drivers seat here? What is my purpose for opening the app right now? Those are the kind of questions I need to ask myself before I engage each time. So long as my choices are examined and intentional, I think I’ll be OK. But I’m very aware of the lure, and I know to trust that intuition when something doesn’t feel right.
Thank you-it really is so akin to gambling yet also soul fulfilling. I’ve learned so much on here, too. And met so many neat people. I think at least acknowledging the addictive parts helps, for me (and to take things less personally…)
Thanks so much for the mention and the conversation, Joy. I feel all of this so much! While my newsletter certainly doesn’t pay all my bills, it does pay some of them - plus, it’s the work I find most meaningful and fulfilling. And yet, at present, it’s also the work that takes most of my time and is entangled in the most angst. Part of this is the addictive, social media-like quality of Notes and checking stats. And part of it is the tension I experience between wanting external validation and not wanting to go along with certain collective "agreements" and narratives just because that’s what others expect, demand, and reward. This feels especially alive for me right now as a Chinese Medicine doctor writing about holistic health and wellness.
While I’m off all other social media, I absolutely consider Notes and Substack’s comment sections to be social media. I do entertain the idea of moving platforms because of that. However, I also manage another newsletter here, so I’d need to be on the platform regardless. And the truth is, pre-Substack, I made no money from my newsletter and hovered at around 500 subscribers for years. Since moving to Substack, I’ve continued to grow and now make over $7K a year from work that takes a lot, lot, lot of time. It feels very good to be paid for that and to experience steady, upward subscriber growth.
So for now, I’m spending less time on Notes as a compromise and have turned off many notifications (including when anyone, paid or free, unsubscribes). I find those steps to divest myself mentally and behaviorally are helping a lot. Wishing you clarity, steadiness, and ease with it all!
I've been writing/wrestling with this topic for the last month or so, finally getting some engagement on posts after being on here close to three years with a fairly stable audience but not much feedback despite my persistent efforts. I'd recently filtered and then deleted about 90 or so subscribers that hadn't opened anything in over six months as one way to care less about the numbers and more about the people who open and read my stuff. Then it happened: a photo I posted on notes went viral with all sorts of comments, likes and restacks (approaching 8K likes as of this writing) and it felt weeeeiiird, like I'd been swept into something completely out of my control. I started out checking the stats for fun and after a few days it became almost like an obsession.
It's been a joy to have brief conversations with some people, and I've gotten close to 100 subscribers from it which is totally insane because I'm not doing anything differently other than constantly trying to write things I believe are important to talk about. I don't want this to be yet another thing I do on social, it's way more important to my heart than that. So I just sit here observing and wondering...WTF?
Yes! I didn't get into it here, but I also had a note go viral in December, a really short one that I didn't think very hard about when I wrote it.
And it was so weird to see it just take off for no obvious reason. And people subscribing to me after reading ONE sentence? What?? Was my note that brilliant or was it just that the system wanted to get me a little more hooked, so it doled out some traffic?
Such a strange experience. It feels like you're being celebrated but at the same time the algorithm is also saying " don't get all cocky thinking it's anything you've done lady!"
Thank you for the shout out! This is an important piece. Especially for those of us in recovery - but everyone is vulnerable.
Joy, I'm so glad you wrote about this as it is something I've been ruminating on lately, too. Dopamine addiction is so real. I'm *trying* to be better at recognizing unhealthy patterns (refreshing my Substack dashboard, mindlessly scrolling Notes, etc.) and pivoting to healthier ones, like going outside for a walk, breathing fresh air (how delightful, btw?!), and stowing away all digital distractions and just being present with my kids when they're home from school. It's a constant work in progress, but I have found that deleting the app helps. I've also learned that I'm much more engaged and thoughtful about my time and postings whenever I use my laptop to interact with the platform. And, probably most importantly, I've been more conscientious about tying my self-worth to metrics. For every negative self-talk sentence, I actively work to replace with a positive one, such as: "My writing isn't good enough to reach a wide audience" to "I'm still learning, and I've reached a classroom full of folks who needed my words. That's something, not nothing." Thank you for bringing this "trap" to our attention because I do feel it is something that we could all be more mindful of.
You’ll appreciate this: I lost 5 subscribers today! And I’m trying real hard to not feel bad about it.
Don't! You're doing great!
You’re welcome!
Thank you for this thoughtful, nuanced piece. This resonates deeply. In solidarity toward finding a sustainable way forward 🙌🏼
Right there with you without any answers…but here’s something to ponder. While the addictive nature of the medium can be a problem, it can also be leveraged to get you writing. I leveraged my audience feedback cravings to get myself to write a whole book. I don’t think I could have done it without them.
But the yuckiness creeps in. It always creeps in. I don’t know. I hope the answer isn’t abstinence, but for some of us it might be. Only time will tell.
Yes -- I do find the interactive nature of Substack more motivating than getting pieces published in literary journals. Mostly because the journals don't generally do a lot of promotion or keep the author clued in to any reactions to the piece. (I even wrote a piece about this problem for Lit Mag News).
Thank you for putting my thoughts into words. It is strange. I tried posting at different times of the day and night, but it made no difference. Short nonsense notes attracted a lot of traffic, where my more substantial notes went almost unnoticed.
Yep! It’s mystifying 🙃
Hi, Joy. I’m one of those folk who’ve come out of (alcohol) addiction, nuked my social media, joined Substack, aaand I find myself getting dopamine hits from notifications, like an online gambler who gets sucked into the animations and sounds of finally hitting a bonus round. And I know Substack intends to do that, because it is social media, no matter how it tries to market itself otherwise.
Dana nails the sensations that I feel now-that cognitive dissonance where I know it’s unhealthy, and I can’t help it. And it feels like I now have to take measures to reduce Substack consumption by upgrading my online and offline habits. The tricky part is, I have what seems like a valid reason to continue: a desire to lay the foundations for a new career in helping people. Also, boy, have I learned a lot here. Masses and masses of new (to me) information. I joke with my partner that I’ve learned more about how life works from Substack in the last year than I did in a year of formally studying life in my biochemistry degree.
So I’m in this peculiar place. Am I using Substack or is it using me? Is it a legitimate tool or an escape from reality? Who is in the drivers seat here? What is my purpose for opening the app right now? Those are the kind of questions I need to ask myself before I engage each time. So long as my choices are examined and intentional, I think I’ll be OK. But I’m very aware of the lure, and I know to trust that intuition when something doesn’t feel right.
Fantastic article, thank you for sharing.
Thank you-it really is so akin to gambling yet also soul fulfilling. I’ve learned so much on here, too. And met so many neat people. I think at least acknowledging the addictive parts helps, for me (and to take things less personally…)
lol love this title, looking forawrd to reading.
Thanks so much for the mention and the conversation, Joy. I feel all of this so much! While my newsletter certainly doesn’t pay all my bills, it does pay some of them - plus, it’s the work I find most meaningful and fulfilling. And yet, at present, it’s also the work that takes most of my time and is entangled in the most angst. Part of this is the addictive, social media-like quality of Notes and checking stats. And part of it is the tension I experience between wanting external validation and not wanting to go along with certain collective "agreements" and narratives just because that’s what others expect, demand, and reward. This feels especially alive for me right now as a Chinese Medicine doctor writing about holistic health and wellness.
While I’m off all other social media, I absolutely consider Notes and Substack’s comment sections to be social media. I do entertain the idea of moving platforms because of that. However, I also manage another newsletter here, so I’d need to be on the platform regardless. And the truth is, pre-Substack, I made no money from my newsletter and hovered at around 500 subscribers for years. Since moving to Substack, I’ve continued to grow and now make over $7K a year from work that takes a lot, lot, lot of time. It feels very good to be paid for that and to experience steady, upward subscriber growth.
So for now, I’m spending less time on Notes as a compromise and have turned off many notifications (including when anyone, paid or free, unsubscribes). I find those steps to divest myself mentally and behaviorally are helping a lot. Wishing you clarity, steadiness, and ease with it all!
It’s great to hear your hard work is starting to pay off!