The Substack Podcast

We asked , who writes on Substack, for advice on making her new Substack sustainable, slowly and steadily cultivating a sacred space for exploring writing and ideas, and building her community.Jamie is an author, designer, digital course creator, and creative consultant living in Los Angeles. Her debut novel, Main Character Energy, was published in September 2023 by the HarperCollins imprint Park Row Books. Her previous nonfiction memoir, Radically Content, is currently being developed into a feature film, and her digital course, Live with Intention, has helped over 1,300 people live more intentional lives. Her work has appeared in the HuffPost, Teen Vogue, and POPSUGAR and been shared by millions online. Read on for Jamie’s advice, or listen to her read it aloud in this episode.This is the latest post in a recurring series of longform writer advice. To see more advice from Substack writers, take a look at previous posts here.  This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

In early August, Doomberg, the leading publication in the finance category on Substack, announced that they were opting out of X (fka Twitter) and putting all their focus on Substack.The Doomberg team had built much of their brand and reach on Twitter through a strategy that leaned on getting their goggle-eyed green chicken avatar in front of as many people as possible through timely tweets, threads, and storytelling around their Substack posts. They coupled this active Twitter presence with appearing on as many podcasts as they possibly could to deepen their relationship with finance-minded readers (listen to our interview with Doomberg for The Active Voice for more on that strategy).Shifting their focus entirely to Substack, with an emphasis on Notes, was a bold move by the green chicken, but they say the decision was ultimately straightforward. They came to feel that X was operating against their interests, while Substack was directly aligned with them. “We settled on Notes because the team at Substack has been our partner from the beginning,” Doomberg wrote. I got on a Zoom call with the green chicken to dive deeper into their thinking behind the move and explore what it says about long-term thinking. I hope some of these takeaways are useful for all independent writers. You can listen to the interview above, read the full transcript attached to this post, or enjoy a condensed version of the discussion below.  This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We’ve just shipped some new features that make podcasting on Substack even better.You can now use a special AI tool to create a clean transcript of your podcast episode or narration without having to do anything more than click a button.The whole transcription process usually takes about a minute.Once you’ve created the transcript, you can go in and edit it to make it just how you like it, and you can publish it in its own tab on the episode post page. Then, you can select a passage that you can then use to generate a special audiogram that you can share to social media. An audiogram is like a little static video with text and the audio playing over top. It’s a really neat asset to share to show off your podcast episode. (See the example below.)We’ve done this all using cutting-edge AI tools, and it reflects our philosophy of not thinking that this AI stuff is ever going to take the place of work done by writers and creators—but instead we think it can give writers and creators super-powers. In fact, this thing you’re reading right now is a transcript that we generated from the audio tool. I’m basically speaking off-the-cuff into a microphone and we’re using this as our announcement post. (Hopefully this technology can handle my New Zealand accent.)To use these tools, you:* Go into your dashboard* Create an episode post* Then, when you’re in editing mode, you upload your audio, and you’ll pretty quickly be presented with an option to generate the transcript.* You click the “Generate Transcript” button and you wait a second, or maybe a minute, and then in very short order you have a beautiful transcript to work with.* You can go in and review that transcript in the backend before you publish it, and you can edit it.* When you publish it, there’s a default-on toggle that will make sure that the transcript will show up in the post alongside your episode. (You can also turn that off if you need to.)* Once the transcript is published, you can select a passage and then click “Make audiogram” to generate the social sharing asset.All of these tools are in their very early stages and they’re only going to get better and better. Stick with us for a while, because while they may not be perfect at first glance, they are going to rapidly evolve. We want you to have fun with them though, so we want to get this out to you sooner rather than later.We already are getting great feedback from writers who are having a great time with this new tool.For instance, , who publishes The Charlotte Ledger, said the following about using the podcast tools: “The transcripts of the podcast are really, really good! Surprisingly good.”He’s used other mainstream tools to do podcast transcriptions and found them not as fast and not as accurate.And , who publishes Sinocism, a China newsletter, the first ever publisher on Substack, he got early access to these features and he’s tried them with two podcasts, his Sinocism Podcast and his weekly Sharp China Podcast. He said he has tried several outside services for transcripts, both machine and human generated, and the Substack service, this one, was much better already than those other services he’s used.So, go to your dashboard now, create an episode post. You’ll see the options to generate a transcript and you can start having fun.We’re really interested in your feedback. As I said, these are the early days, so please leave a comment or send us an email or—you know—send us a podcast episode and link to it on Substack Notes.Thanks everyone. Enjoy these new tools.Add a podcast to your existing Substack or start a new one. Visit the Help Center to learn more about podcasting. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked , who writes on Substack, for advice on finding great ideas. Brian is a social scientist and professor of global politics at University College London. He is the author of four books, including Corruptible: Who Gets Power and How It Changes Us, which includes interviews with torture victims, CEOs, cult leaders, and more.Brian’s Substack explores the mystery and marvel of the world we live in, and how evolutionary biology, history, neuroscience, anthropology, and philosophy relate to challenges we face today and our possible futures. He writes for The Atlantic, created the award-winning Power Corrupts podcast, and is a self-professed “history nerd,” offering guided tours in his local southern England. Read on for his advice, or listen to Brian read it aloud above.This is the 13th in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Kristen Hawley’s advice on facing the behemoths, Hilary Fitzgerald Campbell’s advice on prioritizing your to-do list, Lauren Wolfe’s advice on tackling difficult stories, Holly Whitaker’s advice on writing like it matters, Lucy Webster’s advice on writing from lived experience, Scott Hines’s advice on cultivating connection in the internet age, Robert Reich’s advice on sharing your personality, Helena Fitzgerald’s advice on isolation, Alicia Kennedy’s advice on learning to listen, Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments below. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked for advice on thriving as an independent writer, even when your competitors loom large and attempt to swallow you whole. Kristen’s first newsletter—covering how technology was changing the restaurant industry—launched in 2013, was sold to a media company in 2016, and was killed in 2019. Five months later, she launched on Substack, where she writes about the future of hospitality. Kristen writes for Bon Appétit, Food & Wine, Eater, and Insider, is a regular speaker at industry events, and has been featured as a restaurant expert in the New York Times, NBC News, and CBS News Radio. Read on for her advice, or listen to her read it aloud above.This is the 12th in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Hilary Fitzgerald Campbell’s advice on prioritizing your to-do list, Lauren Wolfe’s advice on tackling difficult stories, Holly Whitaker’s advice on writing like it matters, Lucy Webster’s advice on writing from lived experience, Scott Hines’s advice on cultivating connection in the internet age, Robert Reich’s advice on sharing your personality, Helena Fitzgerald’s advice on isolation, Alicia Kennedy’s advice on learning to listen, Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments below. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked the cartoonist, comedian, and author Hilary Fitzgerald Campbell for her advice on prioritizing growing to-do lists. Hilary is the author of Murder Book, and her forthcoming book What Did I Do Today? is a guided journal for daily accomplishments. On her Substack, Cartoons by Hilary, she publishes illustrated advice columns, sketchbook dumps, and a podcast with Derek Boeckelmann to ask friends What did you do this weekend? Hilary is also a contributor to and the New Yorker. Read on for her illustrated response, and listen to hear her read her words aloud.Dear writer, how do you prioritize all the things you want to do?This is the eleventh in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Lauren Wolfe’s advice on tackling difficult stories, Holly Whitaker’s advice on writing like it matters, Lucy Webster’s advice on writing from lived experience, Scott Hines’s advice on cultivating connection in the internet age, Robert Reich’s advice on sharing your personality, Helena Fitzgerald’s advice on isolation, Alicia Kennedy’s advice on learning to listen, Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.On Friday, January 6 at 7 am PST / 10 am EST we’re hosting a chat with Hilary On Substack. Hilary provided a prompt from her new book, What Did I Do Today?, for the writer community to respond to. Download the prompt via on.substack.com, write your response, snap a photo, and tune into the chat via the Substack app on Friday! This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked for her advice on tackling heavy subject matter while keeping her audience engaged. Lauren is an award-winning journalist and photographer of more than 20 years. She spent more than a decade reporting from war zones in which women and girls are violated and, before that, five years documenting violence and the suppression of journalists globally. She has written for The Atlantic and The Guardian and is a contributing writer for Washington Monthly and an adjunct professor at NYU’s graduate school of journalism. Lauren writes from the front line of conflict in her newsletter, , and gives a behind-the-scenes look at how dangerous investigative journalism gets made. Read on for her response.This is the tenth in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Holly Whitaker’s advice on writing like it matters, Lucy Webster’s advice on writing from lived experience, Scott Hines’s advice on cultivating connection in the internet age, Robert Reich’s advice on sharing your personality, Helena Fitzgerald’s advice on isolation, Alicia Kennedy’s advice on learning to listen, Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked Holly Whitaker to share advice on her writing practice. Holly writes Recovering, a newsletter that looks at recovery as a way of living that is accessible to everyone. Holly started blogging in 2013 after going sober, which turned into a sobriety school, a digital recovery startup, and New York Times bestseller Quit Like a Woman. She is also working on her second book and a podcast. Read on for her advice, or listen to her read it aloud.Dear writer, how does your Substack fit into your wider writing practice and online presence?Before I knew I was a writer, I was an accountant. My job title was Director of Revenue Cycle Management Operations, and the only essays I wrote were soul-destroying emails I cc’d your boss on. If you would have told me back then that one day I’d be explaining how something called a “Substack” fits into my “writing practice” and “online presence,” I would have done what I did the other night at a comedy show, which is spit on someone. Because of laughing.But that’s where it started. I was wearing lots of Ann Taylor Loft and formatting spreadsheets by day, and by night—because I was newly sober and exploding inside and having to pretend everything was normal over here, and there was nothing to see, folks—I wrote for a WordPress site, anonymously. I start my answer there because that’s where it counts and what I want you to get from this answer. I didn’t start writing to build an online presence or even to have a writing practice, but because I needed to write. I had to write. I didn’t know what else to do. I was lost. I was alone. I was stuck in the wrong life. I had a lot to say and I didn’t know who to say it to. That was 2013.“I didn’t start writing to build an online presence or even to have a writing practice, but because I needed to write. I had to write.”In 2021, by then a New York Times best-selling author and someone who had been featured in Vogue multiple times and had sold hundreds of thousands of books and counted among her assets a very loyal and large social media following, I grabbed a Substack handle for the same reasons I secured that WordPress domain way back when: I was lost, I was alone, I was stuck in the wrong life. I had a lot to say and I didn’t know who to say it to.What I mean to tell you, fellow writer, is that I didn’t start a Substack as a strategy, as a way to hone my writing chops or build a brand or make a living. I started it out of desperation, as a lifeline. Much like 2013 and the now-defunct littlemisssurrendered.com, Substack was the only thing that made sense, and even that makes it sound like it was more planned than it actually was.When I say I was lost (in 2021), I mean I was not sure what I stood for anymore. I’d recently been squeezed out of an organization I founded; I’d lost many of my friends; I lived alone in the woods on a dead end road, and my cat was who I talked to the most, and my identity was hanging in a closet somewhere. My head was a soupy mess of ideas, and my thought loop was nihilistic, and everything I believed in felt fraught, and I was scared I’d written myself into a corner or that maybe I had peaked and it was all downhill from there. Back then, the thing that felt so great about Substack was that it wasn’t some blog people might attend or even a Mailchimp that might turn into a sales pitch. Substack was a place where readers had to figure out how to sign up, a place where they had to agree to get your emails on a regular basis, a place with barriers to entry, (in some cases) a cover charge, and those things were not available on social media or a blog site. People had to want to read me, effort to read me, and in some way all that made my writing holy again. It created a boundary, a haven, a netting between myself and the scant few that might follow me here from places where I was more well known and my art was consumed in the blur of a scroll. Here, I started to experiment with a different voice that felt closer to my own. Here, I started to test out what it might feel like to write instead of catch eyes. Here, I got honest in a way that I don’t think I’d been anywhere else. Here, I started charging for my words, daring to believe that my writing wasn’t some side project but the main event. In 2021, trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life, I thought “maybe writer.” Some 50 Substack essays later, I think “writer.”What has been so delicious about writing on Substack is that it isn’t something that fits into my wider writing practice, like some piece of a puzzle—it is my writing practice. Writing here also isn’t something that fits into my wider online presence, because in being here, I have learned that an online presence isn’t something I care to curate the same way I once did, if at all.Read more: #1 Being All Of ItI think we ask people things like I am being asked because we want to know the formula, the juice, how to replicate or establish or build. We are conditioned to believe that it doesn’t matter unless there are clicks, impressions, likes, comments, engagement; that our work doesn’t matter unless we’re known. I’ve been successful in the measurable ways because I followed those playbooks, but that has always left me miserable. Here, I have not followed the playbooks, I have done a lot of it wrong, but I have written like it matters, like what I have to say matters. If there’s any advice I have to give, it’s that. Sure, pay attention to the technical bits, the hacks and the best practices, and drive your engagement and whatever. But write like it matters and like what you have to say matters. Write like it’s 2013 and no one knows who the hell you are or cares what you have to say, and do it anyway.Sincerely and truly yours,Holly Glenn WhitakerSubscribe to Recovering on Substack, and you can also find Holly on Instagram and her personal website. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

Welcome to our new podcast, The Active Voice. It's about how great writers are reckoning with the challenges of the social media moment, how they find the space for themselves to create great literature and journalism despite the noise, and how to make a living amid the economic volatility of the 2020s.In the first episode, Substack co-founder Hamish McKenzie talks to George Saunders, one of America’s greatest living writers (and author of the wonderful Substack Story Club). You can listen to it and subscribe at read.substack.com. This podcast is called The Active Voice because we enjoy the double entendre, and because it is about the writer in the arena: the writer who, despite the pressures of the social media moment, has the courage to say what they believe needs to be said; the writer who finds a way to speak truth to power; the writer who seeks understanding over takedowns. This podcast is for those who know that what you read matters and that great writing is valuable. I can’t wait to share all these conversations with you. The Active Voice is produced and shared using Substack for podcasts. Find out how Substack makes a richer podcasting experience, supporting multimedia and subscriptions, and fostering a direct relationship with your listeners here.  This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked Robert Reich to share his advice on learning to use his writing and drawing skills to illustrate his Substack. Read on for Robert’s advice, or listen to him read it aloud above.This is the fifth in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Alicia Kennedy’s advise on learning to listen, Embedded’s Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Lance’s Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate just how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments below. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked Helena Fitzgerald to share her advice on navigating isolation as a writer. Helena writes Griefbacon—a newsletter on the weirdness of relationships for “the last people at the party after everyone else has gone home.” Listen on for her experience of solitude in writing, or listen to her read it aloud above.Dear writer, how does isolation play into your writing experience? When do you crave it, and at what point do you seek support, collaboration, or edits? How do you come up for air when the loneliness of writing becomes too much? *This is the fifth in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Alicia Kennedy’s advice on learning to listen, Embedded’s Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Lance’s Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate just how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments on Substack. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

Are you a podcaster, audio creator, or author of a sound-focused publication? Next month, Substack will open applications for our next intensive: the Summer of Sound. In this month-long immersive workshop, we will invite a select group of writers and audio creators to deepen their focus, build a strategy, test techniques, and grow their publications into sustainable projects. Applications will open on June 9, 2022, and close on June 21, 2022. To be eligible for this opportunity, applicants need to have an existing publication on Substack with at least 5 posts. If you want to kickstart, revive, or grow a podcast, audio show, or sound project on Substack, now is the time! To learn more about podcasting and audio tools, check out our resources and our support articles.We are looking for writers and creators with a substantial audience, growth potential, and a strong desire to grow an independent media business on Substack. Once selected, participants will dedicate a considerable portion of time in late July and August to developing their publication strategies, experimenting with our features, and learning from experts.We’ll share more information as we prepare to launch the application in June.Read more: How to move your podcast over to Substack and Podcasting questions answered This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

One year ago this week, writers and the Substack team started gathering in weekly Office Hours discussion threads together for the first time. In 38 threads with tens of thousands of comments, writers shared bold ambitions for publishing on Substack, swapped sharp insights on growing an engaged email list, and celebrated milestones like going paid.A year in and the discussion threads continue, with writers learning and navigating a new chapter for online publishing. Together through Office Hours, Substack writers have authored advice for the future.In 1997, Chicago Tribune columnist Mary Schmich wrote an essay as a hypothetical commencement speech entitled “Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young.” Going viral, the essay was adapted and shared as a spoken word song by Baz Luhrmann. “Everybody's Free (To Wear Sunscreen)” was an instant hit. Today, we bring you Substack’s remix from lessons and advice writers have shared over the past year in Office Hours read by Jackie Dana, one of the generous Office Hours stewards.Everybody’s free (to connect with each other)Writers and readers of the class of '22:Connect with each other. If we could offer you only one tip for the future, connecting with each other would be it. The long term effects of engaging have been proved by data scientists whereas the rest of our advice has no basis more reliable than our own meandering experience. On behalf of the writers of Substack, we will dispense this advice now:Don't wait for your writing to be perfect, or the time to be just right. Neither will happen. Your publication will likely be quiet for a while. Keep going anyway. Building something good takes time. The only real short cut is luck, and that’s no real strategy. Don't try to do this alone. The actual writing part usually has to be done alone, with distractions turned off and a faintly unhealthy supply of coffee to hand. There's usually no getting around that. But the part where you're coming up with ideas, or trying to think bigger and bolstering your confidence and hopes...don't try to do that just by sitting by yourself. If you need the door closed when you're writing, try flinging it open when you're not. Learn wildly. Connect madly. Allow yourself to be corrected. Being gracious in the face of criticism is a good way to take the venom out of it. And make lots of good friends who are doing something like what you're doing.  As writers, we are all in this together so we need to do our best to help each other grow and succeed. Slow and steady is entirely normal growth. Some people come to Substack with an enormous platform already. Some people grow very quickly for a variety of reasons (very few of which are actually controllable). The vast majority of us just plug along, trying different things, without ever having insane overnight success. Doesn't mean you can't be successful, it just means "slow and steady" is entirely normal growth, and success is subjective and depends on your own personal newsletter and goals.Extra slow days shall pass. It's hard but just keep writing good copy during the plateaus. They too will end.Dive deep into your niche. The average person on the street may not understand the appeal of your Substack, but you'll gain loyal subscribers and face less competition than if you go mainstream. Don't feed trolls. Don't allow them to ruin your day. Just block them and move on.Celebrate at milsteones. Exclaim: Bravo!!!!! This is awesome! Way to go! That's huge - congrats!!!Remember: engagement is not just likes and comments, but also conversations between you and your reader in their inbox. Ask questions. Propose ideas. Agree. Disagree. Agree to disagree.Be careful with the advice you take to heart and put in practice. You might find yourself saying, “I actually didn't follow that advice, and I'm happy I didn't.”But trust us on connecting with others.We also want to take a moment to pause and say thank you to the writers who have made helping other writers at Office Hours this year a central rhythm in their week by attending the majority of sessions, and generously answering other writers questions. We hope you'll join us in giving the following writers a virtual applause. Jackie Dana, Cole Noble, Sarah Miller, Alison Acheson, Elizabeth Held, Michael Fritzell, Geoffrey Golden, Mike Sowden, E. Jean Carroll, Melanie Newfield, YouTopian Journey, Paul Macko, Joan Demartin, Chevanne, Lloyd Lemons, Karen Hoffman, moviewise, Петър, Emily Miller, Heather Johnston Brebaugh, Linda Tapp, Rishikesh Sreehari, and Asha Sanaker.Join us for Office Hours today Each week on Thursdays, we gather the writer community and members of our Community, Product, and Writer Development teams together in a written discussion thread like this one to answer writer questions for an hour. Whether you are returning to the thread to celebrate one year of Office Hours or joining for the first time, we hope to see you today. Together we will answer your questions on publishing, growing, or going paid on Substack.Do you have a favorite memory from Office Hours? A sharp insight that you learned that you’ve taken with you? Someone you met in the discussion threads that you’ve stayed in touch with? We’d love to hear about it in celebration of one years of hosting Office Hours. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked writer, author, and podcaster Emma Gannon to share her advice on maintaining your energy to keep writing. Emma has had an extraordinary few years, publishing four more books, continuing her acclaimed podcast Ctrl Alt Delete, and adding ever more value to her ever-growing community. Emma recently moved her newsletter, The Hyphen by Emma Gannon, to Substack, where she also shares discussion threads, book recommendations, and Q&As. Read on for her advice, or listen to her read it aloud.This is the fifth in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following podcaster Alicia Kennedy’s advice on learning to listen, Embedded’s Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Lance’s Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate just how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments on Substack. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We asked Alicia Kennedy to share her advice on interviewing. She calls From the Desk of Alicia Kennedy Podcast, her weekly podcast that’s part of her food newsletter, “a curated conversation series.” She recently wrote about her belief in unscripted, unedited interviews here. Read on for her advice, or listen to her read it aloud above.Dear writer and podcaster, what’s the secret to a good interview? My podcast always begins with the same question: “Can you tell me about where you grew up and what you ate?” This establishes the conversation in some straightforward biography, while also grounding it in the flavors and food philosophies that have shaped the guest’s life. From there, the audience and I will get to go deeper, but the guest sets the terms of the conversation by choosing what and how much to share. Do they become wistful and nostalgic, or do these memories seem painful? Are they tinged by grief and loss, or by joy and whimsy? The question sets the tone and tenor of the rest of the conversation.   To me, a good interview is governed by the same thing as good nonfiction writing: curiosity. I’ve made mistakes before by doing interviews with people whose work I, frankly, was not curious about, and that means I’m just going through the motions. But what makes an interview good for the audience—whether a listener or reader—is that the people having the conversation are actively engaged with each other, and ideally with each other’s work. As an interviewer, I want the people listening to feel like they’re overhearing a natural conversation, something that would happen spontaneously after the plates are cleared away from the dinner table and all that’s left is some wine and cake.There also needs to be a spirit of generosity on the part of the person being interviewed. When people come on who’ve never bothered to listen to a past episode and don’t respond generously to good-faith questions, it can feel like pulling teeth. I’ve learned for myself, whether I’m the host or the guest, that I shouldn’t show up unless I can get locked into having a generous conversation. This means being curious and being engaged, of course, but also believing that every question is a good question, a worthwhile question, and if I think perhaps it hasn’t been phrased well, that I can reframe it in my response. I want the people listening to feel like they’re overhearing a natural conversation, something that would happen spontaneously after the plates are cleared away from the dinner table and all that’s left is some wine and cake.In order to facilitate better conversations, I send my guests the questions a week ahead of time. This provides not too much time to overprepare and thus kill spontaneity, but it does allow them to get a sense of the trajectory of the conversation and tell me whether they’d prefer to go in another direction. I want guests to be comfortable and know that it will be a safe space for anything they wish to talk about, and I like to establish their boundaries ahead of time. I try to ask big, open questions, too, so that the guest feels free to take their response in any direction. Specific questions, I’ve found, lend themselves too easily to simple answers. The worst feeling is to receive a “yes” or “no” in response. Though sometimes one can want to flex just how deep they’ve researched in their questions, I find it better to be looser and to let the guest guide the conversation a bit, because their spontaneity will also be more compelling to the listener. In writing these bigger, more open questions, I dive into all the person’s work and also try to listen to or read past interviews. I want to honor the subjects that drive the guest’s life while also bringing something different to it, something less anticipated. My questions that I ask to everyone are very important for this reason, such as in how I begin, but also in how I finish, which is with the same two questions. Each guest responds to the same questions in new ways.I want to honor the subjects that drive the guest’s life while also bringing something different to it, something less anticipated. I used to ask just, “For you, is cooking a political act?” but I change it up based on whether the guest has told me they like to cook or not. If they don’t, I ask about writing or bartending or whatever it is they put all their soul into. I’ve begun to add the question “How do you define abundance?” because the concept of “abundance” keeps working its way into my own writing—how we define it, yes, as well as how to cultivate it and how to reframe it in a world that tries to tell us abundance looks one way, means one thing.My podcast is, in this way, an extension of my writing, a way to engage with its themes with folks who’ve done different kinds of work in food and culture, who can bring new perspectives to themes I work with consistently. We all eat and engage with food differently, and I want to honor that diversity through generous, curious conversation.Sincerely, AliciaThis is the fourth in a recurring series of longform writer advice, following Embedded’s Kate Lindsay’s advice on creating trust with your readers, Lance’s Anna Codrea-Rado’s advice on learning to celebrate just how far you’ve come, and Mason Currey’s advice on creative growth.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments below. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

The best thing about being a podcaster is the joy of a really good conversation. It feels like that moment at a cocktail party when you find yourself in a corner by the cheese table, chatting with the most interesting person there. And then it gets even better: you get to share that conversation with your listeners, who come along for the ride and experience it with you. But then you click publish, and suddenly the experience of podcasting becomes very one way. Sure, you get some download numbers; maybe you get some Twitter noise around an episode; maybe you get an Apple review. But for the most part, it feels like you push this rich conversation out… into a strange, empty ether.That’s what makes podcasting on Substack so different. Suddenly, the podcast can keep the conversation going. With most other podcast platforms, the best you can hope for is to keep a listener’s attention for a fleeting moment. But here, you know who your listeners are. These listeners aren’t just download numbers: you speak to them in a direct relationship, through their email. You bring them into your world, where they read around a bit, maybe comment, maybe even put their email address down right away. In this new relationship, your listeners know you more intimately, too. You talk to them not just through the podcast but through writing; through more video, and audio, and images; through show notes that might be more album notes or essays than blurbs. In this podcasting universe, podcasters are more than podcasters, and listeners become more than listeners: they become a community.  They can listen, and read, comment, and discuss—with you and with each other, online, in email, and in the app—and respond right back. Writers on Substack have done so much more than just create newsletters. They went independent and became media outlets in their own rights. They created new communities. They changed the entire business model of writing, making it unnecessary to pander to algorithms or advertising. That’s what’s coming now for podcasting. The same way we made it simple to start a paid newsletter, we’re making it just as easy to produce a paid, subscription-based podcast on Substack. You can push every new episode to your readers and subscribers, on the Substack app and other podcast players, as easily as publishing a post in your newsletter. Owning your own audience also means something very different here than anywhere else: we make it easier for you to get and keep new listeners, and you’re never locked in with constraints around keeping those emails or payment systems. Just like Substack gave writers the freedom to be writers again, the Substack model of podcasting will bring the format to its pinnacle. Before, podcasting was a monologue into the void. Now, it’s a rich conversation listeners are invited into, a deeper connection with your own community. The world of ideas doesn’t need to be boiled down to one format—or one direction. So take a peek behind the Hollywood curtain with The Ankler; explore science and culture with The Origins; pick apart the news with The Fifth Column; level up your finance game with Fatal Conceits; listen in on the most interesting people in the world with Chris Ryan; unpack diet culture with Burnt Toast; go deep on foreign policy with American Prestige; or understand Internet nonsense with Blocked & Reported. These podcasts—and so many more—are part of the new wave changing the form, and expanding what’s possible on Substack.  Visit our support center to learn how to start a new podcast or migrate a podcast from another hosting platform to Substack. Our answers to common podcasting questions are located here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

As we kick off the Substack category tour, we asked Kate Lindsay, co-author of Embedded, to share some writer-to-writer advice about creating trust with your readers. Co-founded with Nick Catucci, Embedded is a twice-weekly guide to new internet creators including trends and weekly interviews with “very online” people. Read on for her advice, or listen to her read it aloud above.​Dear writer,How do you approach reading, as a writer? How does the lens of your own audience impact how and what you read?Dear writer,I’ll admit, there was a period of time when I was too jaded from working in the digital media industry to read any online content. At my first writing job, I wrote seven stories a day, sometimes waking up as early as 6 a.m. to fit it all in. By the time I’d worked at a few different publications, I could tell when an article was actually an SEO grab masquerading as a legitimate piece of writing, or a piece of clickbait meant to make people mad, and I wasn’t interested in feeding the machine with my own reading habits.While I’d like to think this particular era of digital media is on its way out, you still see shades of it when the latest viral moment prompts every outlet to scramble for its own unique take. So many websites are writing the same thing. This can be helpful: When Yellowjackets was airing, I was so deep in the show and its fan theories that I read every perspective I could find in hopes of getting all the crumbs. But this strategy doesn’t work universally. For instance, I similarly consumed Covid-19 content in the first year of the pandemic, but I realized that this wasn’t actually reading—it was anxiety-spiraling.All this is to say, I’m somewhat precious with what I consume, and definitely read a lot less than perhaps you’d think for someone who calls themselves “chronically online.” I like pieces that work to clarify a moment with reason rather than drum up anxiety for clicks, and I have a natural aversion to reading whatever piece has my Twitter timeline in an uproar—because it was probably designed to do just that. “I like pieces that work to clarify a moment with reason rather than drum up anxiety for clicks.”This was one of the first things I noticed about writing Embedded: I no longer have to cater to SEO, or try to get someone’s attention on a timeline. We’re writing for readers who, by nature of signing up, already want to read us. So our coverage can be more thoughtfully catered to them in a way that feels helpful, not exploitative. Our best-performing pieces for Embedded are often the ones that seek to make the reader feel understood. Our newsletter is about the internet, but rather than highlight what’s dystopian about this time, I always try to focus on the things about it that are uniquely human, or voice something we all experience that hasn’t been formally put to paper. Similarly, the pieces I love and share with others aren’t ones that are particularly spicy or that make me want to get up and go do something, but that reflect back to me a thought or experience that makes me feel seen.This isn’t to say you need to try to broadly appeal to your readers. Curating our My Internet series has taught me that the internet may be getting bigger, but people still find and occupy their own particular corners of it. The 2020 National Book Award nominee Rumaan Alam follows Mary-Kate and Ashley fan accounts. Former New York Times columnist Ben Smith is on Geocaching reddit. Writer Taylor Lorenz loves bird TikTok. Investing in a niche may not reach the most readers, but the people you are writing for will be real and engaged and appreciative, which is, ostensibly, why we all started doing this. “Investing in a niche may not reach the most readers, but the people you are writing for will be real and engaged and appreciative, which is, ostensibly, why we all started doing this.” I’ve also learned that people will pay for writing, and we should continue to normalize that. For My Internet, we always ask people what they pay for online, and some have named publications from the New York Times to Insider to Study Hall to, of course, their favorite Substacks. But when you step back and look at social media as a whole, everyday people in the replies and comments are routinely astonished when something is paywalled. Sure, running into a paywall is annoying, but the fact that you’re annoyed you can’t read something is the reason to pay for it! If you want to read good stuff, then you have to free writers from the advertising model that forces quantity over quality, and that means people with the means to give their money, doing so. If all else fails, I’ll leave you with these two pieces of advice: Trust recommendations from humans, not algorithms, and treat your clicks like currency—give them to the kind of content you want to see more of, not less. Sincerely,KateThis is the third in a recurring series of longform writer-to-writer advice, following Mason Currey’s advice column on creative growth and Anna Codrea-Rado of Lance on learning to celebrate just how far you’ve come.Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments below, or entering it (with the option to remain anonymous) using this form.Bonus: Reading RoomReading Room is a new mini series with writers like Anne Helen Petersen sharing their favorite publications to read on Substack. Kate is a thoughtful reader and researcher, both of her peers and of the online spaces that she covers. We asked Kate to share what she is reading.Kate Lindsay’s recommended reads:* Substack I’m most excited to open ASAP: Today in Tabs—it breaks down the exact discourse I recommend against reading, but now I can still know what people are talking about. * Substack most likely to make me think: ¡Hola Papi!—I keep rereading this post about stepping back from social media. I’m like, did I black out and send this letter? * First Substack I subscribed to: That’s gotta be Garbage Day, and I still open every single one! I recently cited this one, about how social media is digesting the crisis in Ukraine, in my own writing. * Substack I subscribed to most recently: After School—one of the only places to report on Gen Z that isn’t patronizing. I think this Gen Z gift guide is a perfect example of how hard its author, Casey Lewis, works to be accurate and comprehensive. * Substack I recommend to friends most often: Rachel Karten’s Link in Bio is essential for understanding the professional social media space. I love this one about the personal social media accounts of people who run brand accounts. Visit Kate’s profile page to see more from her current reading list. Subscribe to Kate and Nick’s publication on Substack, Embedded, and you can also find them on Twitter here and here. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

As the year draws to a close, we asked Anna Codrea-Rado to share a piece of writer-to-writer advice about taking stock of one’s creative accomplishments. Anna writes Lance, a publication all about building a freelance career without burning out. Read on for her advice, or listen to her read it aloud above.Dear writer,How do you stop to recognize what you've accomplished? And how do you refocus and refresh when starting a new chapter?Dear writer,On the eve of a breakup, a past boyfriend said to me that I’d never be happy because I’m always looking for something else.Over a decade later and the memory of that remark still stings. Not because I regret dumping him, but because he’d touched on something that I was (and still am) prone to doing: ambitiously going after something but not stopping to appreciate its fruits. I share this relic from my relationship graveyard to confess that I too struggle to recognize my accomplishments. And before I can attempt to answer what you can do about that, first I want to ask: why can’t you recognize what you’ve accomplished? Earlier this year, I wrote my first book and while I knew it was a huge milestone, I couldn’t feel it. So much so, that I felt uncomfortable whenever other people told me how proud I must be of myself. I started calling this inability to see my own success "productivity dysmorphia.” The pursuit of productivity spurs us to do more while at the same time robbing us of the ability to savor any success we might encounter along the way. As for why it happens, personally, I think the biggest culprit is our toxic work culture which not only moves the goal posts, but then tells us that if we miss, that’s our personal failing. The pursuit of productivity spurs us to do more while at the same time robbing us of the ability to savor any success we might encounter along the way.There’s a badly wrapped gift to be had here: This stuff isn’t your fault! This partly explains why I’ve only ever had mixed results in my attempts to do something about it. Because believe me, I’ve tried all the hacks for recognizing my achievements. The big one is writing down your wins at the end of each day. Seems like a no-brainer for a writer, right? Make yourself feel better about your writing by writing about it? And indeed, scribbling “Wrote 1,000 words today” in my bullet journal does make me feel smug. When I’m fretting about my newsletter, a game I like to play is zooming in and out of the graph in the “Subscriber” tab. There, I can see my growth over the last 30 days, 90 days, and all time. My 30-day chart looks like a rollercoaster; a rickety track of dizzying climbs preceded by stomach-flipping descents. Then I toggle to the 90-day view and things look a little gentler. At the “all-time” setting, all the bumps are smoothed out into a healthy line that clearly points upwards. At that distance, I have an uninterrupted view of how much further along I am now from my starting position. These tactics (or maybe it’s better to call them reflections) have definitely helped me better appreciate my achievements, but only ever after the fact. It’s a bit like how I experience the benefits of exercise, not so much in the moment of doing it, but only after a period of inactivity when I feel terrible for its absence. As the French political theorist, Germaine de Staël wrote, “The human mind always makes progress, but it is a progress in spirals”. And so, I don’t think the move is to throw out these acts of reflection, but rather to accept their limitations. “The human mind always makes progress, but it is a progress in spirals” ~ Germaine de StaëlThen the question becomes, how can we recognize our accomplishments in the moment? For me, the answer lies in getting back to why I write in the first place. I believe that the writing subjects we’re drawn to aren’t random. Richard Bach, the American writer said, “We teach best what we most need to learn.” And I think the same is true for writing—I write best about the things I need to work out for myself. I find this to be particularly important to remember at the close of one chapter and the beginning of another. And if you too are at a similar crossroads right now and struggling with which direction to take next, try asking yourself the following question: Even if no one read me, what would I write about? It’s easy to lose sight of why you’re even writing in the first place, so recentring can be a powerful way to help you get unstuck. Asking yourself this simple question will help you reconnect with your writing and remind you why you’re even doing it in the first place. You’ll be surprised how clearly the answer will come to you. And remember, the sheer act of even asking these kinds of questions is a celebration of how just far you’ve come.Sincerely,AnnaThis is the second in a recurring series of longform writer-to-writer advice, following Mason Currey’s advice column on creative growth. Could you use some advice or inspiration from a fellow writer about creativity, motivation, and the writing life? Submit your question for consideration for a future advice column by leaving it in the comments below, or entering it (with the option to remain anonymous) using this form. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

We are pleased to announce the launch of Story Club, a new Substack by beloved author and teacher, George Saunders. With its unique, educational, community-oriented structure, Story Club will offer a masterclass in storytelling and the craft of short fiction. The concept is modeled after Saunders’ latest book, A Swim in the Pond in the Rain, in which he unpacks a handful of short stories by four of the great Russian writers, considering how their stories work and why they move us. Saunders serves on the faculty of Syracuse University’s MFA writing program; the book was inspired by a class he teaches on the Russians.With Story Club, Saunders and his community of readers will run with that idea, focusing on a new story each month. The selections will extend well beyond the borders of Russia, and Saunders will also invite his community of readers to help steer the curriculum. “I’m really excited about the spontaneous nature of this,” he said in our conversation, “and the fact that I can keep track of everybody in real time a little bit, and just as I do... at Syracuse, tailor the next class to meet what they need. So I think we’ll see stories from all over the world. I’m sure we’ll get to some fairy tales. In class, I’ll often use bits of movies and TV, because that’s a really interesting form of storytelling.”Story Club’s posts will include essays and observations by Saunders, lessons on the elements of fiction, writing exercises, and interactive community features.Saunders’ writing program at Syracuse admits less than one percent of applicants, only six students per year—MFA programs are by nature tiny and exclusive—but he sees Story Club as an attempt at democratizing graduate writing programs, or, as he puts it, “simulating a version of the MFA through Substack.” The privilege to study fiction alongside one of its greatest living practitioners has been available to only those fortunate few students each year at Syracuse, yet now, through Story Club, it is possible for anyone to join the community.Saunders has kept his distance from social media—“I don’t do social media, because I don’t like it.” He describes Substack, in comparison, as “social media purified by conscience” and feels that it’s the right place for an endeavor like Story Club, “because [here] we’re all self-selected. This is a club based on mutual respect… I think the danger of social media is that you’re always feeling the pressure to say something right now. And with Substack, if I get organized enough (which I'm going to), it means that I can be starting something now, and when it’s ready, when it really has something to say, then I can release it to this self-selected community… The idea of being in some kind of real-time, quasi-personal touch with my readers is really exciting to me.” Along with the community-driven exploration of great stories, Saunders’ Substack will also include his personal newsletter writing, and he plans to answer reader questions on craft and the writing life.Saunders expects Story Club to serve as “a conduit between my readers and myself” and to reaffirm that “this writing life is not impossible. There are real people on the other end of books. It’s all about communication, and it goes in both directions. Part of what I offer my students is sort of a demystification of the whole thing. Yeah, it’s really hard. It takes everything you have. It obsesses you in every aspect of your life. But it’s also not impossible. And it’s a continuation of something you’ve been doing your entire life, which is trying to engage other people in your particular mode. I joke with my students that we’re trying basically to refine our charm: How are we charming, and how can we get more so, in prose? Sometimes I think the best thing a writing teacher offers is a little bit of positive reassurance. Just to say, It’s not impossible; you can improve… The real baseline ethos of Story Club is that idea: that we can all participate, and it will make any life better.”Podcast editing and production by Seven Morris This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com

Four years ago today, Bill Bishop launched the first-ever Substack publication. It was his newsletter about China, Sinocism, which he had been writing for free for five years for an audience of policymakers, diplomats, academics, investors, executives, and journalists. I had known Bill for almost a decade from my previous life as a reporter and was a regular reader of Sinocism. Around the time that we came up with the idea for Substack, Bill had been telling his readers that he was planning to introduce a paywall for the newsletter. I jumped into his inbox and suggested that he be Substack’s first publisher. Happily, he agreed! Chris and I promptly flew to Washington, D.C., where Bill had recently relocated after 10 years in Beijing, and started figuring out how we could build the first version of the product around his needs. By October 2017, Bill was ready to launch, and on the 15th of the month he enabled paid subscriptions. By the end of that day, he had brought in six figures of revenue, heralding the arrival of two businesses at once: his own, and Substack’s. To mark the four-year anniversary of the launch of Sinocism, I interviewed Bill for a special episode of the Substack Podcast (there it is, up there, behind the big play button). We talked about the early days of Sinocism, what he has learned from four years on the platform, and why he set sail for the world of paid-newslettering in the first place. Says Bill: “It just really felt like there was a moment where the internet and consumers were ready for this kind of a model.”I think he was right about that.  This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit on.substack.com