The most common complaints I hear from readers--and my response

Readers rarely complain. But when they do, it's usually either about pricing or my refusal to be more inclusive of men.

Every so often, I write something that’s not directly political, as a sort of break from the relentless din of sexist horror. I’ve been writing more about the art and craft of writing lately, and might make that its own series if readers are interested. It would include more articles like this one. So be sure to take the survey at the bottom. You can read more posts I’ve written about life as a writer here.

As my social media reach grows wider, I get more reader complaints. It’s an interesting experience because I actually really do care about reader complaints. I do this work because I want a better world for all of us, and I try to be accountable. I want to listen when people think I’m doing something problematic, and am always eager for new ideas about topics people would like to see me cover.

Lately, though, two themes keep emerging, almost always from new readers or confessed non-readers who just wanted to pass along their comments: I shouldn’t be charging for any of my work, and I should be more appealing to men and less divisive.

Maybe you’ve heard these complaints when you share my work with someone else. Or maybe you’ve wondered about these things, too.

Here’s my response.

Why do you charge so much for your work? It should be free.

I recently received this message (and receive dozens more like it each month):

“I started following you and even subscribed to your services... I unsubscribed because you are too strict in what content you share for free and what content needs subscription. I am a business woman myself with a great motivation to support voices that are not afraid to point out problems and try to articulate what needs to be done to attain an equilibrium between men and women to reach the holy grail of true partnership because I believe that is the only way forward. Please share more free articles. I understand you have bills to pay but everyone has their own. Could you please share more free articles and an overall more positive tone? There’s big issues to address before we reach equilibrium but when strong voices like yours only focus on getting subscribers our cause is losing.”

I publish at least seven unique social media posts per week, and at least two free Substack articles weekly. In a year, you’re getting at least 468 missives from me that are totally free, compared to the 104-ish paid pieces I publish. I want my work to be accessible to people, and I want to help people. That’s why most of my work is free.

But it’s also why I charge for some of my work.

Because the operative word here is work. This is my job. This is how I support my family. And it is a lot of work. There’s the writing, yes, but also the behind-the-scenes research, and the hundreds of women I counsel each year because, well, I want to. I spend many weekends trying to coax individual women out of their abusive relationships, helping them set up GoFundMes, and supporting them to access resources.

I’ve made my living as a writer for 15 years now.

Professional writers have only a few options to get paid for the work they do:

1. They can become social media influencers/bloggers, and partner with advertisers. This makes them beholden to for-profit companies that may withdraw support at the first sign of controversy. Readers may also write to advertisers when writers offend them, causing advertisers to withdraw support. This model ensures that writers are never able to fully and freely speak.

2. They can publish their work in someone else’s publication. These publications, too, are almost universally supported by advertisers, posing the same problem as above. When you bring editors into it, though, there’s even more suppression of dissent, because big publishers don’t want to lose advertisers. Editors may not fully understand the work, either, further muzzling writers. Witness the 22-year-old male editor who once argued with me about what it’s like to be a breastfeeding mother. This is how I used to earn my living.

3. They can work for free. It is simply impossible for a writer to work for free without being independently wealthy, which then skews all content toward the opinions of highly wealthy people who can’t relate to their readers. Never mind the fact that this continues the trend of devaluing women’s work—something I stand firmly against.

It’s just not possible to publish 600+ pieces of content a year, as I do, without charging something. I won’t be silenced by advertisers, and I won’t decrease my output. I won’t let some editor tell me what I can or can’t write, and I won’t waste my life catering to social medial algorithms.

Substack has been my most effective tool for avoiding all of that.

The people who like my work the most, and who want to read the most of it, pay a very small fee to help fund it. And together, their resources pool to help me make a living wage. Better still, thanks to my paid subscribers, I am able to offer no-questions-asked free scholarships to anyone who tells me they cannot afford to pay my fee*. This allows my publication to remain accessible while becoming a stable source of income.

It’s also a great deal.

Readers who pay by the month are paying roughly 69 cents per paid article. Those who elect instead to pay for a yearly membership pay 56 cents per paid article. You’re also helping to fund scholarships for readers who cannot afford my work, and all paid subscribers get access to the Liberating Motherhood support group—a place members have called “the village I needed but never had” and “the safest place on the Internet.”

Readers tell me that my work has changed their lives, radicalized them, helped them leave abusive spouses, and supported them to leave abusive relationships. A few cents per article is, to my mind, a steal.

Wrapped up in the idea that everyone should get easy access to my work is another idea, though: the idea that my work is valuable. Most readers who complain about my decision to charge for my work say that they want to read more of it, but that they don’t want to pay.

Friends, if you’re angry that you have to pay for something, especially when you have the spare cash to fund, I hope you’ll consider the possibility that this alone indicates the work is valuable. Tl;dr: if you’re mad because someone won’t give you access to something, maybe you want it. Maybe that’s because it’s valuable.

*If you’d like a comp subscription, you are eligible if, and only if, you cannot afford it—not just if you wish it could be free. To get a free, no-questions-asked comp membership, please follow these steps:

1. Email zawn.liberatingmotherhood@gmail.com.

2. Put “Substack scholarship” in the subject line of your message.

3. In the body of your message, please indicate that you cannot afford the $6 per month fee. There is no need to provide proof; this is honor system-based, but you must specifically say that you cannot afford a scholarship. I’ve found that this requirement discourages liars and people who would otherwise take unfair advantage of the offer.

Why aren’t you more inclusive of men?

I recently received a message from a self-described “branding expert” who insisted that I needed to change my brand to be more inclusive. She just couldn’t understand why I don’t want to appeal more people.

My readers tell me I am one of the only people who says out loud what they think, without making it more palatable. Why would I betray them, or my brand, by destroying that?

Men, too, are quick to tell me that I should make my work more palatable to them. I should be more moderate. As soon as I challenge them, they no longer “like” or “respect” me.

Good.

Because men who feel uncomfortable with my work are not good men. They’re men to whom the appearance of goodness is more important than actually being decent. Men who truly want to do better relish the challenge. They see my work as a palate cleanser of all patriarchy has fed them.

I won’t sell them short either.

The world is full of places where men can hear that their mistreatment of women is not a big deal, and where women can be gaslit into believing that if they just communicate better it will somehow eliminate patriarchy. You will never find that here. And I’ll never be sorry about that.