I'm not convinced that my default level of self-awareness is a good thing. I get in my own head a lot, which is sometimes good for my writing and sometimes it's not.
I hoped I'd have more traction by now; more subscribers, more reach. It's not that I care about stats so much as it's the opportunities tied to them. Long before I started publishing stuff online—before building websites or launching a media company—I think writing played an enormous role in helping me become someone capable of loving their life and the people in it. Podcasting, too, for that matter. Which is why I'd do both for free, even if they never made me another penny. But, if that truly is all they're ever meant to be, their roles need to look different than they currently do.
I'd love nothing more than for writing, editing, and podcasting to be my full time job.
In fact, I'm trying to make that happen.
That's the goal, eventually.
But that requires a certain threshold of subscriber count, traffic, and engagement. On average, you need about 1,000 subscribers before monetization becomes a viable option. For podcasts, that viability looks more like getting 1,000 - 5,000 downloads per episode. And, look, when I say "monetization" I'm not just talking about having individual subscribers pay for access, and I'm not talking about using email marketing to sell courses or services.
I'm talking about monetization here through a lens of earning the ability to partner with brands, advertisers, affiliates etc... And, this is actually something I wrestle with a lot. Because on the one hand, I desperately don't want to dilute the reader/listener experience of Unobstructed by introducing silly ads, but on the other hand, the right partnerships would shield folks from the burden of having to pay subscription fees in this hypothetical land of future "monetization." And, until now, I've wanted the stuff I write/publish to be free and discoverable to those who believe in narrative storytelling instead of the pervasive advice-mongering that tries to play whack-a-mole with your head wherever you show up online. So, if I were to offer readers a more robust paid option down the road, I'd want to introduce something that would be valuable to them, in addition to what we're already doing.
However—
As of today, which is day 328 of The Map Year Project, Unobstructed has 845 followers on Substack, 462 free subscribers, and 8 paid subscribers. Realistically, that number will probably drop again later this week when I publish our newest podcast episode...
So it goes.
I've spent two and a half years publishing my writing on Substack, and I think I'm more proud of what I've built throughout that time with Unobstructed than anything else I've done in my career. Still, this journey can also be really disheartening at times. On LinkedIn, a platform I hardly ever go on, I have 1,363 followers. And then on Instagram, that number is 1,533. Which is wild to me since I basically stopped using my account in February of 2023.
All to say, there's an uncomfortable truth I've been grappling with for a while now that's only getting harder to ignore: people just might not be interested in what I have to offer. But the bigger truth I'm facing is that I'm not sure whether or not that sentence should have a "yet" at the end of it.
And as the saying goes, the market decides.
Sure, I've thought about quitting; I'd be lying if I claimed otherwise. When I publish something that took a ton of work, yes, it absolutely sucks if it flops or lands flat. Of course I hope people will "like" it or comment on it. And you bet I love when something I wrote meant enough to someone for them to share it with others. So, yeah, when it feels like stuff's just whiffing completely, I can't help but ask myself "why the fuck am I even doing this?" And that's when, despite feeling hurt in the way that comes from feeling like you're being ignored, I inevitably ask myself if I like what I published.
It's when I ask myself if I believe in what I'm doing.
Throughout the past two and a half years, the answer to those questions has been a "yes," albeit sometimes with more conviction than others. In the downtrodden moments, a follow-up question I ask myself is whether or not I'd keep writing—and publishing—if I knew no one would read it and I'd never be paid to keep doing it. I can't explain it, but I never feel any hesitation with answering that one. I don't have to think about it before my brain says "of course."
It's at that point that, still feeling a little prickly and defensive, I start melodramatically wondering why, then, don't I just stop engaging online altogether and stick to writing in my notebook... after all, no one's going to read it anyway, right?
It surprised me at first when I realized it but, out of all the questions I ask myself i moments of uncertainty, that one's undeniably the most useful. Like, without question. Hands down. Because after thinking my through that entire saga, it's that last question about the idea of just sticking to journaling that makes me remember why I keep showing up online, and it's the real people who read and react to what I create.
Since embarking on this journey of reclaiming my voice, there have been folks who've taken the time to leave heartfelt comments on my stuff about what it meant to them. I've received emails in response to things I've published that have brought me to tears. Ironically, it's the pieces that get the least traction online that tend to get the most replies via email.
Just when I think "why bother?" or "no one's even reading," I'll get a text from someone I haven't talked to in a while saying how much they've enjoyed keeping up with what I'm publishing. I'll run into people in real life who tell me similar. Often, that'll happen with someone who I had no idea even subscribed. But they all end with some version of the same thing: keep it up. Some of those conversations were even with people who became clients.
I don't know if or when I'll hit 1,000 subscribers.
Who knows if the market wants my stuff.
I like the me who writes.
So I'm keeping it up.
Do you have something you'd do for free, even if no one paid attention?
onward.
For more on this daily column and The MAP Year Project, read the backstory here. And if you know someone who'd appreciate this, pass it along.