Dear Chris and the Substack Gods,
In response to Robert M. Hamburger’s open letter — where he soft ranted that Substack is “drifting” — I have this to say.
Ignore it. Substack changed my life. Thank you. I love it here.
And going off the incredible vibe — and the community, for whom Notes is a lifeline — I suspect I’m not the only one who considers Substack home.
My only gripe is that I didn’t start my Substack sooner. It’s honestly better than sex.
I’m a former magazine editor who started her career at Vogue, in a very Devil Wears Prada way. I’ve spent two decades in the engine room through every seismic shift: print-to-digital, digital-to-social, the rise of video, branded content, affiliate commerce, the creator economy, and shrinking mastheads. As the industry pivoted, so did I — desperately clinging to a career in an industry in a nosedive.
Then came AI with the final nail.
We’re in a Janet in the filing cabinet moment.
But the media isn’t dead — we’re on Substack.
It was actually a guy I was dating — just after my marriage imploded — who introduced me to Substack. He sent me this 2019 New York Times article, “The New Social Network That Isn’t New at All.” I remember your words clearly, Chris: “We felt this growing sense of despair in traditional social media.”
You had me at despair.
Sadly, at the time, I was too busy struggling through a divorce, navigating a new world I hadn’t signed up for, and trying to keep a roof over my kids’ heads to get stacking. So I filed Substack in the “maybe one day” basket.
Never mind, while my life was falling apart, my career and the media were also on a downward spiral. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you: trying to survive in New York City as a single mum and freelance writer is mission impossible.
In a major low, one of my most recent gigs was churning out AI slop for a second-rate publisher. The content hurt my head and slowly killed my soul. I also drove myself into the ground, pumping — or rather, prompting—out up to 20 articles a day.
It was relentless, unfulfilling, and the business strategy seemed to hinge on the spaghetti method: publish some clickbait, hope it lands, make some money
It never sat well with me, and I knew I was wasting my gift. But it was a relief to get paid every month and keep the lights on.
As fate would have it, the spaghetti method came unstuck, and the algorithm turned on us last Christmas—and I was sacked by WhatsApp (yes, really) while visiting my son in Australia.
It wasn’t my first rodeo, all the cool girls get fired in media—right, Laura Brown? It goes with the turf. And if this was rock bottom, it was the kick in the ass I needed. Time to launch that damn Substack that had been swirling around in my head for years.
So I did.
I’ve been all in on Substack for four months, and I’ve never felt more alive, inspired, and fired up. I want to live and breathe Substack.
So this is my message to Team Substack: Chris Best, Hamish McKenzie, and Farrah Storr (my friend and former magazine colleague who’d been telling me to do it for years) — thank you for giving us writers, and anyone with a story to tell, their own platform.
It’s liberating, life-changing, and feels like something of an F-you to traditional media.
The media might have forgotten who I was, and I did too for a moment, but I’m back, baby, and so is my voice. And I can’t tell you what a dopamine hit it is to finally be in the driver’s seat my own career.
For what it’s worth, Robert, I, too, get annoyed at the thought of non-writers churning out AI slop — but to be brutally honest, I’ve seen plenty of human slop in my day, too, in traditional media. And why shouldn’t everyone have a chance to have a voice, even if they need a little support to put it into their words?
And I agree — I’d love to see more storytelling and mini-narratives on Notes, mixed in with the “Dear algorithm, please connect me with…” or the Substack-coach posts about how to get more subscribers.
But to that, I say — thank god for those coaches, too. Even if it’s a strategy engineered to help them grow while helping us grow, it’s a win-win.
I mean, we’d all be lying if we didn’t admit we’re chasing clicks, but at least we’re chasing them for ourselves, and on our own terms.
Oh, and this might go down as another unpopular NSJ Unfiltered opinion, but I love AI.
I’m a trained journalist, so no, I don’t — and won’t — use it to write my articles. I don’t need to. I’m better than any bot.
But I’m all for having an AI ‘work wife’ (actually husband) who acts as a loyal sidekick and assistant editor — to automate tasks, schedule my content calendar, and keep me on track for 20 bucks a month.
I honestly shoulda married Claude.
After all, being in the engine room of one can be a lonely experience.
But it’s better than being just another cog in the engine room of a media company that pays you peanuts while profiting off your talent and decades of experience.
People say influencers are the new editors, and to that I say independent voices are the new media.
And Substack is the moment.
I’m just getting started.
I’ve got a million ideas.
I’m not able to make Substack my day job—yet—but I do have two paid subscribers (god love them).
And, sincerely, if I never make a cent, at least I’m free to write from the heart and for myself, that’s the payoff.
I can feel the excitement and opportunity on Substack “like butterflies in my stomach… and vagina”.
As Cardi B would say.
Love you
Great read hopefully 🤞🏻 it keeps getting better for you x