How to write fearlessly in a world that silences strong women
Advice for women who want to write on Substack, but who are plagued by self-doubt
A quick poll before you start reading: I’ve been thinking about doing a seminar or live event for my readers/women generally about Substack success/building a freelance writing career. I’m generally skeptical of such things, but have had a ton of people ask me if it’s something I offer. Is this something you would be interested in? Vote and I may decide based on the results!
A few weeks ago, I had the distinct pleasure of teaching a seminar/Q&A session on Substack success for Upod Academy.
I expected to spend most of my time talking about the technical aspects of Substack success: when and how often to publish, how to improve your writing, when and whether to network. Instead, I encountered a group of highly intelligent women who already knew how to write well.
They didn’t need a writing lesson.
Instead, it was clear that the patriarchy had imposed its own concerns on them: impostor syndrome, fear of failure, fear of being disliked. It felt a lot more like therapy than a writing seminar, which is great, because more women need to believe that they can succeed as writer. The industry is saturated with mediocre men who take far more than they give. It’s beyond time for people who have something new to contribute to actually contribute it.
It got me thinking about what my readers who aspire to writing careers most need to hear.
It’s this: The world needs your voice. Each of us has something valuable to contribute.
So how do you get past the fear and self-doubt?
Decide whom to piss off—and piss them off
You can’t please everyone. This is true in every context in life, which is why I have written about the threat to social justice that people pleasing tendencies pose.
In writing, it’s especially true. Your readers don’t know you, and often, they’re looking to find something wrong with your work. That’s ok. Because once you understand and embrace the reality that people are going to dislike you, you have a new power:
You get to decide whom to piss off.
The people your work pisses off reveal a lot about it. Defining your anti-audience may be even more important than defining your audience. Once you get comfortable with the notion that you’re going to upset people, and cultivate an understanding of what their upset feelings mean, your message becomes clearer. You feel less obliged to pepper your writing with hedges and caveats. You gain freedom to say what you really mean.
When I started writing about feminism and motherhood, I thought that my views were too radical, and that people would inevitably dismiss me as extreme. Some do. But the more honestly and clearly I write what I believe, the more people resonate with my work. I say what women really think, and I don’t concern myself with how that makes men feel. I’m not here for them.
Figure out which people you’re not here for, and stop worrying about what they think. When they get mad at you, you’re on the right track.
Write with integrity
I could do lots of things to better monetize my writing. I could promise that I have a unique system to get men to participate in domestic labor. I could give you a five-step plan that’s guaranteed to improve your relationship. I could promise you that the right behaviors will exempt you from the effects of the patriarchy. I could be more positive, more conciliatory, less strident. I could be the sort of voice that makes misogynist men feel comfortable.
There’s plenty of money there, but this is a scam. Once people realize it’s not working, they’re not going to continue to pay. I’m offering people something more sustainable: the truth, in a voice they rarely hear.
The most consistent feedback I get from my readers is that I’m the first person they have read who calls things like they are. I’m not bragging. Anyone can do this. This is what writing integrity is all about—prioritizing the truth over short-term gains.
I believe that ultimately, you gain people’s trust and change the world by being honest, even if that honesty is uncomfortable. Honesty keeps your readers loyal, and it alerts potential detractors that you’re not the right writer for them. This keeps your comment section safer, and means fewer interactions with assholes.
Speak the truth. Don’t pull any punches. Say what you need to say exactly the way it needs to be said.
Just give it a try
Don’t give up before you’ve even tried. I talk to so many women who have spent months, or even years, obsessing over whether their writing can be successful. Will people like them? Will they make a difference? Will anyone bother to read?
They’ll take advice from other people, from self-styled experts, from market predictions. And always, that advice discourages them from taking any risks and erodes their confidence.
You do not know if you will succeed until you try. And here’s the nice thing about writing: There’s not much risk. You don’t have to give anything up to write. You just need to find some time.
Keep going. No one knows if you will succeed, and sending something out into the world to see what comes back is always a worthwhile endeavor.
Don’t worry about the things you can’t control
People ask me all the time if Substack has reached a saturation point that makes it impossible for new writers to succeed, or if AI will soon put us all out of business, or if shifting social media algorithms will make it impossible for writers to succeed.
No.
Yes.
Maybe.
I don’t know.
The trends around you will affect your market penetration and your audience, but you don’t control them. There is absolutely nothing I can do to control the companies that influence the visibility of my work. So I don’t waste my time worrying about it.
There’s also no way to predict how the market will affect you personally. Maybe Substack is overly saturated, but not with your type of work. Or maybe it’s not overly saturated, but people don’t like what you have to say.
Luck plays a big role in who succeeds, and so do forces beyond your control. But you will never know if you can succeed if you don’t try. Don’t obsess over shifting algorithms, unfair social media promotion, and the myriad of other factors beyond your control.
Write.
Keep doing it.
Keep getting better.
If you reach the right people, they’ll keep coming back, no matter what the market says or does.
Consider the utter garbage people are willing to charge for
Do things with the confidence of a mediocre white man. It’s a cliche because it is true.
Lots of women are reluctant to charge people for their work. They think they’re being greedy or entitled, or that they’re not good enough.
There are men on Substack charging $75 a month for financial fortune-telling, for discredited fitness tips, for incoherent rants.
Do you really think they are more deserving than you?
Do you think they ever paused and thought about whether they are being jerks for charging for their work?
As women, we are raised to believe that people are judging us more than they are, and paying closer attention to our behavior than they are. So we self-police.
Let someone else do the policing. Put something out into the world and see what happens.
Don’t take advice from people who haven’t done what you want to do
Lots of people have opinions on what I should or shouldn’t be writing about. Almost none of them have succeeded as writers—let alone on Substack.
I bet it’s the same for you.
Don’t hire a writing or business coach, especially if they haven’t succeeded on Substack. They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re wasting time and money that you could spend writing.
You know your voice. Deep down, you know the audience that will resonate with your voice. Write for them, then find them.
Don’t chase trends
The major political issues hardly ever change. I could stop watching the news for a year, and still know that it’s a parade of racism, sexism, police violence, war, victim-blaming, and more. You can say so much of value about all of these phenomena without obsessing over what the celebrity of the day is doing, or the latest political horror.
If you write about trends, your work will quickly lose value. The entire point of Substack is to build passive, recurring income via content that retains its value. Focus on that.
Your mental health will improve, too. You really don’t have to invest in the latest outrage, perpetually doomscrolling to stay ahead of trends. Turn off the news. Turn off your social media feed. Write something with staying power.
YEEESS please Zawn!!
I am *thiiiiis* close to finishing my sociology degree and have atleast 20 pieces on the go or which are 1/2 written including an accidental 8k word threaded personal essay that is maybe 90% finished.
I adore your writing and in particular your words here about "Don’t worry about the things you can’t control," "Write with integrity" (I WISH more people did this!) and "Decide whom to piss off—and piss them off" 😁🤣💪
Your writing has given me the gift of sanity.
Helped me to declutter my mind and my soul of my old conditioned way of living.
I read somewhere recently how so many women fear they are constantly on the verge of losing it, going crazy. Why?
Because we are holding together so much shit that doesn’t feel authentic to us. It isn’t honest, it’s not how we want to live anymore.
Never stop writing.
Your work is changing my life.