Michael Gilbride talks about spending big bucks in hopes of a big return. Most of the time we call this gambling!

“Instead of spending a sh**load of money on a music video and praying it goes viral, what could we do that would guarantee her music gets in front of her target audience?”

The artist had a song about body dysmorphia. Rather than making a music video and hoping her target audience would see it, she ended up booking a performance at an outpatient center for eating disorders.

In doing this, she’ll perform in front of an audience more likely to appreciate her message. That’s the guarantee, the possibility of making one fan.

Spending thousands on a music video may lead to the same outcome, sure, but performing in one space for a few people is a safer bet.

From What People Deserve by Sky Fusco:

“You can’t get enough of a thing you don’t need, and I wonder: Maybe you also can’t get enough of a thing that never ends. It’s like these apps are the cockroach of addictions. They just won’t die, and they’re designed that way.”

The scroll never ends. You can never catch up. Everything optimized to keep you engaged.

Sky mentions how social media isn’t like other vices, since you need to leave the house to go buy alcohol or drugs. Consuming enough shuts things down – whether temporarily or by death.

That’s the sinister thing about social media. “I don’t have a problem with it,” says most people. But some people can’t have just one drink. They can’t just post something about their business on Instagram and duck out.

Read more here.

CJ Chilvers has a slightly more PG-13 way of saying this (do shit that doesn’t scale), and provides some great examples in the meantime:

• I’ve seen an author put his phone number on the front cover of his book.
• I’ve seen newsletters set up booths at events just to subscribe a few dozen people — because both parties know each other are real and engaged.
• I went to a bar to meet the inventor of podcasting. He asked people to show up to discuss his podcast and what was on their minds — maybe a dozen or so did. That was more than a decade ago and we’re still telling our readers about it.
• I traveled seven hours to meet at a bar with two like-minded content creators. It led to several podcast episodes, countless blog posts ideas, and an event.

See the rest on his website. As I said back in 2024:

“Yeah, but Seth, I just want to post my thing (on social media) and go do other things,” you might say.

Well, you see the results that “just posting” gets you.

Also, how can talking to your fans, audience, and readers be a waste of time?

Setting a timer for 15 minutes and communicating with real people five days a week will probably get you more results than the hour you spend making one Reel for 153 “people” to see (and which will never be seen again after 12 hours).

Does it scale? Fuck scale, do the work.

It’s tempting to find a shortcut, a “growth hack.” But doing the thing that seems slightly uncomfortable (or absurd) stands to make more of an impact, like our Social Media Escape Club member Jes talking about handing out their email list on a clipboard during a show. That led to 35 new people signing up.

Does that scale? Nope. Do it anyways.

I won’t be thinking about platforms when I’m dead, and I’d like to think about them even less right now.

Recently I got to hear Kato share some wisdom she received from her time working with playwright Paula Vogel:

“…most playwrights, you’re not writing for your current generation. You’re not writing for your peers. You’re actually writing for the generation coming after you. That’s who’s going to pick up your work. That’s who’s going to have the energy for it. That’s who’s going to make things happen.”

Vivian Maier passed away in 2009 and her photography didn’t become widely known until months after she passed.

In my conversation with Ryan J. Downey, he explained how all the work he did at MTV News over 15 years was wiped out when Paramount Global took the archives offline.

The music blog I wrote from 2001-2008, the very foundation of my entire career, is gone now, too.

What do we contribute to future generations when all our work is erased from the internet after we die, or does it even matter?

We did it. During two Escape Pod Zoom calls this week I asked guests to read something for one minute.

This was inspired by Lindsey Adler’s recent post, where she attended a party where the host had folks get up in front of people and read something.

So folks in our Escape Pod Zoom calls read poetry, newsletters, dialogue, unpublished work, and more.

I used to think Social Media Escape Club was going to be all about tactics and strategy, but it’s become about community, communication, reading, making, collaborating, making room for things just outside our comfort zones, which are some pretty good ways to spend our time online and off.

I closed my Twitter account on June 3, 2023. Over two years ago now.

Could I have grown my email list by a few more people over those two years? Met some more great people? Had some posts go viral and then be discovered by a few more folks?

Sure.

But I firmly believe that in the two years that I haven’t checked Twitter (or Instagram, Facebook, or LinkedIn), I’ve become a better person.

When you’re not spending multiple hours per day scrolling, you’ve gotta find something else to do. I’ve gone on walks, ran up mountains, hosted many Zoom calls with amazing people. Written more newsletters.

I believe those ideas are better than the ideas that come from staring at my phone for 4+ hours a day.

If your a musician, you could write better songs. A painter, make better paintings. A photographer, make better photos.

It’s building the audience before you’ve fully built who you were to become. If I went viral two years ago, it would have broke me. Today, though, I feel more sure in what I’m working on than ever before.

 

A question I got via my Email Guidance offering:

Q. I saw you’ve been posting casual stuff (on Substack Notes) and I’m curious how you… justify that against an anti-social media ethos? That sounds like an argumentative question but I mean it in earnest!

A. If I post on other social media platforms, I need to get people from those services over to Substack in order to subscribe to my newsletter. With the casual energy I expend on Substack Notes, I get maximum value in return – as in, it’s just one or two clicks from gaining an email subscribers.

Substack is a tool that I use for now. Someday that will change. But for now, today, I can swap my time and energy “engaging” there because I know I can replenish that energy by building my email list.

Am I playing the game? Absolutely. But I am guarding my energy. I don’t rely on Substack Notes to “get the word out.” I am writing the answer to this question on my own website first, before I put it on Substack Notes (if I even do at all).

I am playing the game on my terms.

Inspired by Lindsey Adler’s recent Note, I decided that on Monday’s Escape Pod Zoom call we’d go around the room and each of us would read aloud for one minute.

Someone read their first Substack post. Someone else read old journal entries their daughter wrote at age nine. An inspirational quote and a paragraph from “Letters to a Young Poet” by Rilke. Excerpts from “Hysterical Blindness and other Southern Tragedies that Have Plagued My Life Thus Far” by Leslie Jordan. A paragraph from the Combahee River Collective Statement.

I read dialogue between two civilians signing up to run a cantina from “Death Star.”

Over the last several months, we’ve built enough connection that this activity didn’t break us. No one logged off.

And while I’m pretty sure this didn’t help anyone “quit instagram,” this was a small act of performance. This was curation. This was taking and giving of ourselves.

And the mere act of sitting there and listening to a person read? This wasn’t a YouTube video or podcast, but a Monday morning group of misfits simply reading to one another.

Not everything needs to be useful, but all of this has purpose.