I am just shy of my 6 month anniversary on Substack.
For the last 3 weeks I haven’t posted a thing.
Frozen, unable to write, I have realised it is either time to commit or jump ship.
Having joined Substack on a whim, with a hint of a dream and a pocket full of hope, I posted almost randomly. Wrote whatever I liked at will and with no followers, what did it really matter? I was writing.
Then slowly, there was a subscriber here and a subscriber there. A discussion. A connection. Communities. Heartfelt conversations. Long emails with new Substack friends. Zoom meet ups. A sudden jump in readers.
The first 6 months have felt akin to those early days in a relationship. The most delicious honeymoon period. Not a care in the world, with no worries about it beginning or ending, just allowing it to be. A freedom, a love for something new. In those first few months you begin to see the world differently, your horizons change, anything is possible. You’ve been cut open in a way you never thought you would be again. But then the moment arrives, when it gains momentum, and you become faced with the decision to commit. Do you dive in? or shrug, ‘ it was nice while it lasted’.
I’ve decided to go all in.
Yes on Substack. But with Substack being my own little metaphor, this also means all in on life, on feeling, on being human, because that, in essence is what writing is. Showing your humanness, and connecting from that soulful space that we often all hide.
In order to be all in I have had to make some choices about how I publish because this is no longer a stab in the dark. This is a community, and one I wish to keep building and connecting with, because lets face it, you’re all pretty awesome.
So in this weeks musings you will find the key lessons I have learnt so far, and how that has shaped what this Substack is to become. Here’s to the journey and I hope you stick around for the ride.
The post I thought was my best writing actually performed the worst
Admittedly, I only posted it, and never sent it to my email list. So lesson number one if you want others to read your writing, actually send it to them. Eye roll.
It was an extremely vulnerable piece that I wrote off the back of reading a fabulous newsletter by Farah Storr about her real life ‘One Day’ (the fantastic book by David Nicholls and now a major Netflix series). It had me wondering about the thousands of ‘One Day’ stories that must exist, especially, like mine, that didn’t quite work out. I believed by not sending it to my email list, that the universe would show me if it was really a good piece, and it would just magically do well on its own. I am a huge believer in the universe but I think this may have been taking it a step too far…we all have to meet the universe half way, and by not backing myself I was really sending a message that I didn’t have faith in my own writing. Equally, maybe it wasn’t my best writing, maybe it was sent at a time when Substack was saturated with these stories, or maybe it just isn’t what my readers were interested in.
And, lesson number two, that’s ok.
It doesn’t mean anything, it doesn’t mean that my writing is any less valid. Writing that piece was cathartic. I keep my love hidden, locked behind a door, bolted and chained. I am the tin man. And this article was one of the steps I was taking to change that. To be a writer and write in the fullness of who I am. So regardless of it’s stats it was a piece worth writing. I don’t think I was quite ready for the vulnerability that all this was going to bring into my life. One of my best friends tells me that I should switch out the word vulnerability for the phrase ‘empowered surrender’. So I offer it up again now in this way. Less vulnerable, and more able to relinquish any hold it may have on me.
Strategy talk makes me feel queasy
I won’t lie to you I have had moments in the last month where I’ve wanted to stop, retreat and go back to my old life. A life of ambivalence. A life where feelings are not so raw. But we all know, deep within our souls, that we cannot go back. So, in that knowing, I attended as many ‘how to make your Substack successful’ soirees as I could. I followed Substack tutors, watched and made notes on how to make my Substack a bestseller. But as I watched my stomach would gripe, feeling physically uncomfortable. I’m not here to sell I’d think to myself. And I’d log off, shut my notepad, and think if people like my writing, they’ll find me.
Lesson number three, no they won’t.
You don’t have to want the big bucks, you don’t have to want the top spot on a bestseller list, but if you want your writing to be heard by the right people who are waiting for your medicine, you are going to have to have a strategy. The word strategy, admittedly sounds very corporate, so switch it out, say approach, or blueprint, or plan of action.
And lesson number four find those who you vibe with, who can help you talk strategy.
I highly recommend
’s gatherings. He is so brilliantly honest. And funny. My goal is to build a community. One that is supportive, knowledgeable, curious and love what I love. I want to be able to build a place of shared nourishment, comfort and inspiration. And Mark has been instrumental in how I do this.
Writing about EVERYTHING is a wormhole I need to climb back out of
I do love to write. So much so, that I created an endless number of sections and tags, covering every essence of who I am. It was tag-a-licious. And a bit unsightly, highly complex. Some posts ended up in several places, and I’m sure when people visited my page they didn’t know where to start. Writing pieces was taking me hours, I was including every thought and feeling, and almost a reluctance to edit, because what if that sentence was THE sentence. The length of my articles crept up to 8 minutes, then 10, then 12. I’d receive cheery notices from Substack saying I had reached my limit. The irony is, is this piece is also likely to be long, but I forgive myself by saying this is a much needed update!
Lesson number five sometimes less is more.
Keep the paragraphs that extend your writing beyond what it needs right now, use them another day. I now have a draft stored called 'great paragraphs to use later’ and it is a lifesaver, particularly when I lack inspiration. Maybe, just maybe, what you’re saying could become a series not just one long essay. And my goodness, get rid of all those tags.
So now I have just 3 sections (trust me it’s better than the previous 10…I’m working on it).
Notes on the garden. Reflections on my work in the community garden and life as a novice gardener. You can find out more about why I am doing this in this article.
Deep dives into nature. Exploring those every day interactions with all the wonders of myth, magic and Science rolled into one. See the article ‘The Fox and I’ for a little taster.
Earth medicine. My discoveries along the way of how the wisdom of the Earth, our ancestry and ritual can support us in our journey back to nature.
Running two substacks is madness
Along with this Substack, I also run a another where I publish letters to my father that he will likely never see. Dad has terminal leukaemia, and is the reason I write. My appearance on Substack is largely due to him. This place became a source of solace for me. A place to express my grief, and to find a community. I didn’t want my grief to twist and gnarl. I wanted to break myself open, and have others there to hold me as I did.
As the community began to build there I felt almost an obligation to post regularly. And as the weeks went on, I realised how crucial, but sometimes time consuming the editing process was. Publishing two articles a week, with a full time job and a masters research project to complete I realised was just too much. I am currently writing a letter to dad about what it means to love, and it is really taking it out of me. I can only write a few lines at a time, and therefore may not publish for a few more weeks yet.
And this is ok because lesson number 6 you can choose what works for you. Your writing is as much for you as it is for anybody else.
I will continue to write Letters to my father but these are entirely, and perhaps selfishly for me. My way to process. And if others join me along the way, despite the messiness of its schedule, they are so welcome.
So where to next?
From this point forward you will find a much slicker version of Tides and Seasons. This Substack will always be about my journey back to connection, and my journey back to nature. As I continue to brush away the shackles of a 9-5 and take on a life unexpected, I will share with you very honestly how it is going. It will be focussed predominantly on my work in the community garden, and teachings from time out in nature. I will weave the tales of my journey back into research throughout this, my life away from the 9-5 and, of course, time with dad.
Expect an article pinging into your inbox every other Tuesday from now until the end of July as I wrap up the last threads of my current working life. Keep an eye out for article themed chats on Saturday mornings where we can chat more about the beauty of gardening like a beginner and getting closer to nature. In the meantime feel free to check out my revamped about page for more info.
Looking forward to chatting again soon!
Lots of love,
Anna xxx
I am writing this essay as part of the 24 essays club with the wonderful
you can read more about the essay club below.
Anna this is just so brilliant to see - congratulations
This is so great in so many ways. Most of us find times when the words come easily, where they don’t, where we have to reassess and all the things you write about here. I’m so pleased you’ve enjoying the gatherings, and I’ve so enjoyed your words here too, thank you