Ready to take a break

Plus, your Friday Bouquet and this week's writing prompt

Image: Monique Mulligan

Dear Creative Soul,

A week after posting about the sense of community I’ve found on Substack, I’ve been seeing a lot of posts on here about NUMBERS - aka subscriber counts.

Some posts claim to have the magic formula for attracting paid subscribers (and maybe they do, but I don’t know, I didn’t read them), which for many Stackers triggers comparison-itis, self-doubt, imposter syndrome because despite their best efforts, their hours in crafting beautiful posts, in sharing heartfelt words, it’s not happening for them. The numbers aren’t there. Or they aren’t rising fast enough. Are people even reading their work at all?

But these posts have a different view on numbers, and I encourage you to read them. Firstly, Along for the Ride from Feasts & Fables, one of my go-to spaces here for their generous encouragement and reminders to live gently and live well:

“This is for those of us who are not in it for the numbers; the ‘growing gently’ folk; this is for the readers and writers who are here for the words; this is for YOU if you are just loving the journey and you need a gentle reminder that you don’t need to worry about numbers.”
Feasts and Fables

And then there’s Summer Brennan’s How to Succeed on Substack, which addresses the anxiety underscoring all the talk about competition:

“There is a lot of anxiety brewing, or at least it looks that way to me. If you are happily oblivious to all this, there’s no need to get into it. Keep on sailing. But among a certain segment of the Substack population, this is very much a thing. Some people are feeling a lot of pressure to grow their newsletter, grow their audience, turn a hobby into a side hustle, or a side hustle into a full-time job. They are looking at other people’s success and feeling bad about themselves.” Summer Brennan

I have no paid subscribers (yet). Two weeks ago I made the decision to offer a paid option, but not because I’m motivated by numbers. (I’d be gutted by now if I was.) Instead, as I explain here, it was about valuing my creativity. And while I’d love and welcome the validation of paid subscribers, I haven’t been dwelling on the numbers (or lack thereof). Instead, I’ve been writing anyway - free posts and paid posts - and focusing on the bigger things that matter in my life: family, friends, work, balance.

But all this talk about subscriber numbers made me ask: Why am I here?

Am I here because I want people to pay to read my writing?

Or am I here because I’m seeking something less tangible, but more meaningful (to me)?

When I first came to Substack, the idea of one day being paid for writing (one day) was alluring. But I soon discovered something greater, something I was yearning to reconnect with: joy.

Joy in rediscovering the mental space, time and freedom to create.

Joy in giving myself permission to write to my current capacity and not to a deadline.

Joy in crafting words that people might connect with and that I definitely connect with.

Turns out, just the act of writing is enough. The need to create burns in my soul, but I needed to find a way to suit my current capacity and this works for me, for now. And along the way, I’ve discovered likeminded writers, deep thinkers and new thoughts.

I’ve discovered a place to be. A place where I can be me.

Why are you here? Your reasons might be different to mine and that’s great. But if you are feeling disenchanted, ask yourself what your driving force for being here is. If it’s numbers, find a way to make that happen. But if it’s not, if you are embarking on a journey without a specific destination, surrender to that. Let the joy of simply creating be the compass that guides you.

I’m heading overseas for a month this weekend - from my hometown of Perth to Germany, visiting the home country of my family for the first time. I’ll check in on Notes, but will save posting on La Muse till I return. What I want to do - what I need to do - is be present in the wonderful opportunity and privilege I have to travel.

But before I move to my Friday bouquet and weekly writing prompt,

Allegra Chapman

has encouraged writers to shout out writers with less than 1000 subscribers, not for the numbers, but because they are often overlooked in shoutouts, so here goes. I love Allegra’s work on I Am Happy, as well as the foodie reflections of

Maggie Szabo

, the bookish reflections of

Zoe Deleuil

and

Meg Dunley

, and the thoughtful posts from Tuğba at

As Slow As Possible

and

Matthew Long

. There are many more I’ve come across, so I’m aiming to share some each week upon my return. (First stop, Berlin!)

Photo by Leon Seibert on Unsplash

Saturday

A homeless man stands underneath traffic lights at a busy intersection near a shopping centre, holding a hand-lettered sign: 62 and Homeless, Please Help. It is 39 degrees (102.2F). We buy water for him, but he is gone when we come back.

An easterly seals the day’s fate - 40 degrees (104F) - as the temperature soars, we seal ourselves inside, while on the other side of the country, storms dump hundreds of millimetres of rain.

On a cooking show the host makes Vietnamese coffee ice-cream and, convinced as easily as my cat is with extra food, I find myself dissolving instant coffee in boiling water, adding condensed milk and Irish cream liqueur, folding in whipped cream. It takes a minimum of five hours (preferably overnight) to set and I’ll probably open the freezer at precisely 7:30 p.m.

Two suitcases, side-by-side. One is empty, waiting. The other is surrounded by disorder: winter clothes, gifts, boots, toiletries, packing capsules. Waiting.

We read about rampant consumerism and sigh - what is this world coming to? - and imagine a different life, a simpler one. We want to downsize, move to the country, but the available stock are snapped up faster than a click of the fingers by a mining company.

Sunday

The irony of packing for winter in Germany in the middle of a Perth heatwave is a hot, sweaty slap in the face.