10 things i love/hate about substack after two years
issue 91 ♡ we write because we must express or else we will surely combust
dearest woo-tang clan,
i’ve recently surpassed the two year mark here on substack. strangely, it didn’t feel celebratory— it felt distant and discombobulating. similar to when i was eighteen and i had been seeing the same dude for almost two years — and just as the anniversary mark was approaching, it hit me— what the f** am i doing? where is this going? what does this all mean? why am i doing this? and i took off to spain to “study” and find myself (and party) for a year.
i find myself in a similar boat again here on substack— except now i am forty-three and not sailing to ibiza for my nineteenth birthday. however there is the same wanton desire to jump ship— to take off to spain albeit in a metaphysical way— to find a form of expression beyond the boundaries of what i have set up for myself over the last couple of years. however before i begin to break the self-induced shackles, here are some notes on what i’ve learn from a two year commitment to
and #90 issues here.1. tapping the like ♡ button while it doesn’t mean much, it also means a lot.
a tap on substack is like a tap on the back, a congratulatory “well done mate, for pouring out your hearts content on the floor and walls. well done for spilling the beans, your guts, your hearts yearnings and learnings!”. one like here means more than a hundred hearts on instagram. *tap heart*
2. you’re not here for the money.
much like the two dudes who told their side of the story in the michael jackson neverland documentary— they/i am not in it for the money. after two years and 1000+ hours devoted here, i have earned roughly $2k per year here. that works out to be around $44 AUD per post, which is like $5 (3 USD) per hour. so, lets stop counting there lol.
we write (yes, i am generalising for all writers here) because we must express, or else we will surely combust. i often feel if i don’t express myself through some form of words or pictures or an outfit i will surely die.
#writeordie
3. substack is safe.
i feel extremely safe to share here, much like a closed circle in a ceremony. i feel at ease to be my fully fledged woo-woo tang self and allowing my spiritual wings to expand here in the audience of self signed-up subscribers. i feel safe to share meditation notes on what i receive from my higher self and guides and translate them into a newsletter format here. this has never been the case with instagram despite having been an active creator for over twelve years.
substack has allowed me to explore themes i never feel safe to delve and deep dive into on any other social platform. i have written about death and grief, god and goddesses, channelling and chakras, ayahuasca and mushroom ceremony, soul mates and and soul purpose, vintage overalls and vintage chairs.
4. substack has taught me to meet self-imposed deadlines.
it took me around six months before i began writing here regularly. when i finally did publish my first post in april 2023 i made the commitment to publishing every sunday and posting it at exactly the time of 5.23am AWST. i also committed to producing any visual content myself — not relying on photographs or imagery from anyone else. i would either draw or use photos i had produced or pictures from my moleskine.
5. substack has given me space to grow as an illustrator.
in my second year here, i made an additional commitment to illustrate a new drawing with procreate and pencil for each newsletter. i wanted to stretch my sketching muscles and produce drawings with esoteric and playful content, in a designated frame of time. substack has served as a rehearsal stage for translating non-physical ideas into illustrations and spiritual concepts into physical pictures, which i would never have attempted prior to this. it’s added another dimension, visual point of difference, continuity and personality to the newsletter particularly with the increased use of AI generated pictures.
6. substack has trained me to deliver an imperfect newsletter and to let that be.
the perfectionist in me has let her guard and hair down a little here and the inner critic has taken a backseat. writing, illustrating and publishing regularly has taken the edge off exposing and expressing on a regular basis— much like breastfeeding in public. after weeks and months of pulling your tit out in public— you can do it with glazed over eyes and a less-care-y air.
7. substack readers/subscribers engage with you in other ways of communication.
i don’t get many likes here however the readership is considerably high. the average open rate is over 50%. this means of all the 1600 subscribers to woo-tang more than half will open and potentially read the newsletter sent out to them. this is a high rate compared to a business EDM (electronic direct email) that i would send via my business platform kawa heart studio where the open rate hovers around 25%.
i also receive cute replies via email from readers or direct messages from friends and family who subscribe to the newsletter. i often have folks telling me in person that they have read my post and enjoyed it.
8. substack has become rather social lately.
while substack has become more social with its feed and followers, i don’t feel inclined to be social, just because we’re all invited to the party. why i enjoyed substack so much to begin with, was its introversion, where you could write, deliver and retreat back to your dorm without the noise of the common room.
i don’t want to get sucked into the notes, focusing on followers, or following the right folks and the general chit chat on the feed. i would just like to write newsletters and publish and have
continue to serve as the host. i have learnt that much like a school parents whatsapp group, you can choose to ignore, mute or participate in the social shenanigans or not.9. substack has inadvertently become the basis for a book.
i began writing here thinking it would serve as a place to put all the things i wanted to say on instagram but never felt safe enough to say it, not knowing it would actually form the contents to a book. this materialised in a meditation about a year ago, that i would collate content from here and my journals to produce a second book. i have finished compiling the word content for this manuscript and about to embark on the illustrations. so i have cleared my work slate and other creative dee-stractions to enter an intensive drawing period for the next six months.
i am thinking it would be make sense for woo-tang to reflect this movement into visual language— with less emphasis on words and more pictorial content. i am also concurrently pitching to publishers and feel it could be fun to document the pitfalls, process, rejections and references along the way, so this newsletter moves away from pre-planned questions and past Q&A format and into a more present state of creativity and expression.
10. wherever you are on your substack journey as a writer or a reader, i applaud and appreciate the very precious commodity of time that you inhabit in this space to take in long form writing.
thank you.
love dee (aka woo-tang)
ps. i have designed WOO-TANG stickers. if you are a paid subscriber & would like one— please message or email your address and i’ll send you one worldwide :)
pps. the film ten things i hate about you that served as the inspiration behind the title and illustration for this newsletter. you can listen to the 1999 film soundtrack here :)
Thank you for sharing! I've just launched on Substack interviewing Creative Parents. I'd love to interview you? 🥹 P.S. 10 things I hate about you was my favourite movie!
Loved everything about this :)