Such a delicious topic. Growth is inviting someone for an interview who I admire so much that I'm scared to reach out. Growth is deciding it doesn't matter if I always publish on Thursdays. Growth is commenting because I'm so compelled to jump into the conversation, not because I'm trying to meet a quota. Growth is introducing two people I met on the platform because I *KNOW* they are going to adore each other. Growth is sharing Substack with a client whose book I'm editing and getting her excited about starting her newsletter. Growth is anything at all that pushes me along in my evolution as a writer and community member...anything, that is, except looking at my subscriber numbers. xo
I last wrote about growth (and payment) on Substack nearly a year and a half ago, but it remains the most popular of my pieces. I still feel exactly the same: growing doesn’t scare me, but pursuing growth, chasing growth … that yucks me out. https://tompendergast.substack.com/p/why-im-not-going-paid
Right now, I’m in the middle of a personal growth project over on my publication. After realizing I was being incredibly hard on myself about my human limitations (aka not being “productive enough”) after my dad died, I decided to jump back into Brene Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection.
I’ve really been stretching lately. The universe won’t stop asking me to stretch. There’s an incredible confluence of events coming up end of May/beginning of June, and it feels like all of 2025 has been asking me to prep for that flowering. I’ve dug, rooted, sprouted and am now budding. It’s intense. Painful quite often. And running parallel is my need to write and the insecurities that come with that. So here’s my latest free ‘stack on that growing: https://open.substack.com/pub/surviveyourstory/p/is-memoir-writing-selfish?r=1lwwwl&utm_medium=ios
I really enjoyed this. I’m living my own insecurities and imperfections out over in my own publication, and it feels great to not be alone in it. Thanks!
I find this such a tricky topic. It makes me think of all the ways we can be gaslit about why people are successful. Here on Substack, I find there is an assumption/illusion that good writing or good content grows and that there are tricks to achieve that growth. Yet there is often something behind that magical growth that advice givers are not telling us. I have found growth slow but still steady on this platform, and I try not to focus too much on numbers as it would drive me a bit crazy.
I have a free only substack where I review small press comics, usually ones I bought on Kickstarter. Its is free because I feel that no one should have to pay for my blather, and being free means I get to utterly suit myself. I write it because I love to read, think and write about comics. I write books in the hope of a paying audience. Any non-zero number of subscriber's who open my mails and , hopefully, read them is a triumph. It means I am no longer talking to myself. Rhubarb is a supremely delicious plant that takes three years from planting to cycle through to a harvestable crop. I am very happy to be a rhubarb substack, slow growth is part of the process for a sub-micro niche like mine. Subscribers unsubscribe which is good news. I do not want to clutter up anyone's inbox. I got a new subscriber this week which I am thrilled about. I may be at a net loss in numbers, I am gloriously in positive gains with the pleasure that someone voluntarily chose to add my mail to their reading list. Growth is a nice big tent, loads of room for it to mean what you want it to.
Growth on substack gives me a lil queasy feeling—I don't like the growth hack pubs or sub-for-sub notes. They feel dishonest.
One thing I did recently was write about a topic—cooking in this case—that's outside what I normally write about. While it tied into the larger areas I write on, it definitely pulled in a diff group of readers. And I got to share my favorite recipe for pancakes *and* waffles!
Oh goodness, I am *always* reaching for the metaphor of overwintering:
How there are so many good things happening underground in the soil (especially if you've got bulbs in there! and/or crop cover on top!) that *looks* precisely like nothing at all is happening, when in fact that's not true.
I genuinely think it's one of the best, most grounding (ha!) metaphors for creative and writerly growth.
Such a delicious topic. Growth is inviting someone for an interview who I admire so much that I'm scared to reach out. Growth is deciding it doesn't matter if I always publish on Thursdays. Growth is commenting because I'm so compelled to jump into the conversation, not because I'm trying to meet a quota. Growth is introducing two people I met on the platform because I *KNOW* they are going to adore each other. Growth is sharing Substack with a client whose book I'm editing and getting her excited about starting her newsletter. Growth is anything at all that pushes me along in my evolution as a writer and community member...anything, that is, except looking at my subscriber numbers. xo
I last wrote about growth (and payment) on Substack nearly a year and a half ago, but it remains the most popular of my pieces. I still feel exactly the same: growing doesn’t scare me, but pursuing growth, chasing growth … that yucks me out. https://tompendergast.substack.com/p/why-im-not-going-paid
I have recently published my first poetry collection called "Poetry growth - How I learned to slow down and feel at peace in my own skin,"which can be downloaded here: https://www.thecompassionategardener.com/poetry-growth/#more-7623
Right now, I’m in the middle of a personal growth project over on my publication. After realizing I was being incredibly hard on myself about my human limitations (aka not being “productive enough”) after my dad died, I decided to jump back into Brene Brown’s The Gifts of Imperfection.
Here’s what I learned in week 1 of my 4-week re-read: https://open.substack.com/pub/humansleading/p/the-journey-to-wholehearted-living?r=msmog&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
I’ve really been stretching lately. The universe won’t stop asking me to stretch. There’s an incredible confluence of events coming up end of May/beginning of June, and it feels like all of 2025 has been asking me to prep for that flowering. I’ve dug, rooted, sprouted and am now budding. It’s intense. Painful quite often. And running parallel is my need to write and the insecurities that come with that. So here’s my latest free ‘stack on that growing: https://open.substack.com/pub/surviveyourstory/p/is-memoir-writing-selfish?r=1lwwwl&utm_medium=ios
I really enjoyed this. I’m living my own insecurities and imperfections out over in my own publication, and it feels great to not be alone in it. Thanks!
I find this such a tricky topic. It makes me think of all the ways we can be gaslit about why people are successful. Here on Substack, I find there is an assumption/illusion that good writing or good content grows and that there are tricks to achieve that growth. Yet there is often something behind that magical growth that advice givers are not telling us. I have found growth slow but still steady on this platform, and I try not to focus too much on numbers as it would drive me a bit crazy.
If I was to write advice, it would probably be something like - you might not be anything wrong .... I have written about how working in charities changed my ideas of success: https://notesfromcatriona.substack.com/p/what-the-charity-sector-taught-me
and about a man who grew roses during the Egyptian revolution: https://notesfromcatriona.substack.com/p/growing-roses-in-a-revolution
I have a free only substack where I review small press comics, usually ones I bought on Kickstarter. Its is free because I feel that no one should have to pay for my blather, and being free means I get to utterly suit myself. I write it because I love to read, think and write about comics. I write books in the hope of a paying audience. Any non-zero number of subscriber's who open my mails and , hopefully, read them is a triumph. It means I am no longer talking to myself. Rhubarb is a supremely delicious plant that takes three years from planting to cycle through to a harvestable crop. I am very happy to be a rhubarb substack, slow growth is part of the process for a sub-micro niche like mine. Subscribers unsubscribe which is good news. I do not want to clutter up anyone's inbox. I got a new subscriber this week which I am thrilled about. I may be at a net loss in numbers, I am gloriously in positive gains with the pleasure that someone voluntarily chose to add my mail to their reading list. Growth is a nice big tent, loads of room for it to mean what you want it to.
Growth on substack gives me a lil queasy feeling—I don't like the growth hack pubs or sub-for-sub notes. They feel dishonest.
One thing I did recently was write about a topic—cooking in this case—that's outside what I normally write about. While it tied into the larger areas I write on, it definitely pulled in a diff group of readers. And I got to share my favorite recipe for pancakes *and* waffles!
https://open.substack.com/pub/wirepine/p/cooking-with-ai?r=2fcl4a&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
You had me at pancakes!!
I’m going to check out these pancakes with my GF flour. I think they’ll work bc of the chia.
I’ve never tried GF, but I have found this recipe is really flexible for whatever grains you got!
Oh goodness, I am *always* reaching for the metaphor of overwintering:
How there are so many good things happening underground in the soil (especially if you've got bulbs in there! and/or crop cover on top!) that *looks* precisely like nothing at all is happening, when in fact that's not true.
I genuinely think it's one of the best, most grounding (ha!) metaphors for creative and writerly growth.