The Value of Substack, the Point of Writing, and other Unanswerable Questions

I intended this to be a humdrum post noting that I am now writing a blog over at Substack called "pigeonunholed." The AI bots to which I occasionally surrender my brain suggested that after posting something on that blog, I should then provide links here--though after waiting at least two weeks, lest I offend the uniqueness weighting of Substack's algorithm (?). But this whole experience has my mind swirling with questions and disquiet thoughts about what I'm after.

I've thrown myself into the winless debate about whether the act of creating itself is meaningful enough to satisfy, or whether it's also worth some effort trying to build an audience. I find this whole discussion as unappetizing as it is inevitable. If I'm posting online, surely I'm operating with some implicit motivation to gain readership. But I think I've been mistaken about what it is exactly that bothers me about this experience. I worried I was becoming hypocritical, when I think it's less about the underlying motivations to gain an audience and more about the process. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting an audience and wanting readership to grow, I just despise writing to other's interests, don't like profile--building, hate tagging people's posts to compel a platform to notice me, and don't like trying to turn writing into some kind of transaction. It's not wrong to do it; I just don't want to do it.

I meant it when I summarized in my first post at pigeonunholed that I joined Substack to connect with likeminded writers. I went there to be inspired by creators of all stripes, and to share in a community of ideas. But ugh, the actual business required to be engaged on a platform like that... Well, Substack quickly reminded me of why I've stayed off other social media platforms. It is very much social media. In fact, Substack may be marginally better than most social media in that it is transparent about its monetary objectives--the platform calls itself an "economic engine for culture"--while others pretend to be a public square or place to connect with old friends, while really just being about turning attention into dollars.

It's too early for me to pass an informed judgment about whether the community benefits will outweigh the unsavory transactional aspects of Substack. But I'm at least over my feelings of hypocrisy, which plagued me immediately after posting about William Blake. I shared how one of the most inspirational aspects of Blake's life was his ceaseless devotion to his craft and personal forms of creation. This rigidity cost him plenty in temporal success. Financial security eluded him, as his art was out of favor at the time, and he was viewed by many contemporaries as a madman. But the same rigid devotion made his art immortal, made Blake himself almost timeless, providing artistic inspiration for countless creators in the 199 years since his death. The lesson of Blake may be that creating for oneself and earning an audience need not be exclusive--though perhaps not in a single lifetime.