I got a few questions from CansaFis Foote via Substack Notes, and figured I’d share my answers with everyone. Enjoy.

Q. What made you choose this platform above all others?

Honestly, I started all of this using Circle, under the name HEAVY METAL EMAIL.

I wanted an online space for musicians to come together and talk about reaching their fans with an old-fashioned email newsletter. This was back in mid-2021 or so. I Tweeted about this little project and got about 19 people to click and sign up.

But things felt off.

I wasn’t using a newsletter to talk about newsletters, so I started looking for at Ghost, Beehiv, and of course Substack.

I picked Substack because I didn’t want to mess with designs and themes and settings, I just wanted to import my subscriber list of 19 people and send them an email.

Oh, and it was free.

With any new platform, the “Is this tool for me?” phase can get cloudy with just a 30-day trial to determine whether it’s a proper fit.

But then Substack rolled out Recommendations, which led to 2,000 new subscribers (remember, I started with 19).

Substack rolled out Notes, which feels like the early Twitter days. That’s led to making friends, paid clients, and plenty of fun interactions. It feels like I’m not just shoveling my “content” into a social media platform and hoping for a click.

Substack has let you upload video for the last few years, embed audio, and set up paid subscriptions, all for just a 10% cut.

For me, Substack is the place to be right now, and it’s built around the concept of having an email list. Call it social media if you want, but my email list will serve me for the next several years, even if this place goes out of business.

Q. Are there any other web spaces you recommend for creators?

This question always leads me to its deeper meaning, which sounds something like, “Where are some good places I can set up where MORE PEOPLE can see my stuff?”

Being “a regular” at 10 different coffee shops in town takes a lot of time and energy, so I’m always wary of going on that journey.

I recommend focusing on one or two places at most, intentionally driving the interest and clicks back to a place (Substack or your website) where people who want to become bigger fans of your work can subscribe to an email list.

When you spend all your time on social media platforms, you’re building an audience you can’t reach.

The long game is building an email list to reach people who want to hear from you.

Q. Would you recommend Substack over a personal webpage or is this better?

Substack is a platform like any other, and it can disappear tomorrow (that’s a reminder to export your email list).

Right now (9/24/2024), I recommend setting up Substack to give people an easy way to subscribe to your email list and to read your work online.

That said, I will always recommend you set up a website/blog to have a running archive of your work, a space on the internet that is wholly yours, where you control the branding, the vibes, the images, the typeface – everything.

I have a blog I’ve been updating since 2018 (sethw.xyz), and I’ve been adding and archiving my work from all over the internet, which dates back to 2004.

Austin is also on Tumblr, too (thanks Sarah Shotts for the heads up). I haven’t seen a post that links back to his work, but as you can see, right below his name, he links back to his site with three links, and his Substack.

Final thoughts:

Don’t leave your fans and readers to bounce around between different platforms like a pinball machine.

Have a website, provide a way for people to sign up for a newsletter, and then send them a damn good newsletter on occasion, telling them about the cool things you’re doing.

Then we get back to work.

I found out my dad died on July 30th, 2024.

We don’t know the exact time he passed, but he died alone in a trailer park in Florida. We didn’t have much of a relationship in the last seven or so years of his life for reasons I won’t go into, but I want to share a bit about his music.

My dad was an absolute music theory genius. He spoke in keys and modes and time signatures. He could play multiple instruments, listen to a song once, and play it for you backward and forward.

When I was a kid, he played in a country rock band called The Buckaroos, playing at ski resorts on the weekends and clubs during the week. He made good money playing guitar in the eighties.

Live music started to fade in our area, so he started teaching music out of his house. One of his students was a fiddle player who moved to Nashville and toured with a notable country artist or two.

In his later years, he’d seek out bass players and drummers, always looking to form a jazz trio. He had some luck getting gigs back in PA and later in Florida.

But when these groups fell apart, so did he.

He would still play at home, with his little Polytone amp that he bought in the 80s, playing his be-bop jazz and whatever else came out from his decades of experience.

While loading up our rental car with some of his belongings to take home, a neighbor named Otto pulled up, rolled down his window, and asked, “do you a photo of Ronnie I could have?”

My sister found a photo during the two days we cleaned out his trailer. It was newer, a shot in a grassy backyard, wearing his fancy shoes and his beret.

He loved that fucking beret.

“We would sit outside and listen to your dad play,” said Otto.

I handed him the photo that my sister found.

He didn’t say a word, but his eyes welled up.

“I’m glad you got to hear him play,” I said, and Otto drove away.

Dad’s idea of “success” was having a group so he could get booked at local venues. Without that, life seemed not… worth living.

And yet, his neighbors loved hearing the music he played.

It’s a lie that you’re not a real musician if you’re not booked at an actual venue.

The lie is real artists are in galleries, their names are on marquees, they have engineers setting up expensive mics in a studio in the hills.

The biggest lie is we have to make our entire living on the sale of our art, or else we’re just no-talent wannabes.

So many artists fall for this, feeling like 100 views isn’t enough, and they stop because “no one cares.”

I wake up thinking about the artists, poets, writers, and musicians we’ve lost because they couldn’t keep up with the “hitting it big” rat race of social media.

Somehow, 10,000 views aren’t enough because you really need 100,000. Having 12 people at a show on a Tuesday night is a waste of time. No one buys your art because you’re not making enough Reels.

It’s lies, it’s all bullshit.

Otto probably has that photo of my dad on his refrigerator or next to his record player.

The world doesn’t need another hot-take reaction to Spotify rates, or Instagram impressions – it needs you to release a three song demo you recorded you in your bedroom. Self-publish that piece of fiction.

Like the wise Cassidy Frost says:

“Go play a roller rink. Create your own festival. Tastemakers can’t take away your power if you’re creating a sick world around your music that other people want to be a part of. You have the tools. You don’t need the tastemakers.”

Someone needs your podcast episode about Edward Bouchet.

Someone in a small town would love to read your essay about landlocked countries.

You need to go to that open mic night and sing that song the universe dropped in your lap three months ago because someone in the crowd really needs to hear it.

Like Amy Stewart wrote, you need to “Be the Artist-in-Residence of Your World.”

Don’t wait for external validation from someone who just needs to fill up a Tuesday night, or fill a slot in their editorial calendar.

Don’t wait, don’t wait, don’t you dare wait to release your magic into the world because time spent waiting adds ups, and the regret compounds, and most of your belongings will end up in a dumpster a week after you die anyways.

In last week’s Escape Pod (my group Zoom calls with subscribers), we told stories about our experiences with social media, culminating with one person asking a direct “yeah, but as a musician how do I exist without playing the Spotify game or being on Instagram?”

We all went around and chimed in, but sadly, we didn’t get them booked at Madison Square Garden by the end of the call.

On Friday, Cassidy Frost’s Weekly Live Q+A Sessions had much of the same vibes – we’re all trying to figure things out, bouncing ideas around and chiming in with suggestions, ideas, and concepts.

No one won a Grammy that day, but we all gained a bit from the collective energy and ideas in that group Zoom call.

Figuring out how to lessen our dependency on social media is a journey, there is no map, and it’s best to travel with others.

The people who run social media platforms would hope we isolate and try to figure this out on our own, which is why we need each other more than ever.

• We need groups of writers for every fathomable sub-genre. Silent co-working style, or groups to talk about self-publishing, or pitching outlets.
• I bet you could start a songwriting group. Bring un-finished songs to the group, and everyone shares their work at the end of the call.
• Photography groups, where people could get together and edit photos together, or go through a photobook together, or talk about styles and gear or anything else.

Fire up your favorite video chat service and get back to being people, making connections, and building each other up. Do this in person if you can.

Because I don’t think competing with the daily publishing schedules of the more prominent media outlets is our game. Instead of churning out daily “content,” what if we slowed down and hung out with the core people who appreciate the art we’re trying to make?

Is it scalable? Heck no.

But is spending 12 hours this week posting to Instagram and trying to lure people to sign up for our newsletter the best use of our time?

How many subscribers is enough? How many fans is enough? Do we ever find contentment? Is our thirst ever quenched?

Today Substack rolled out Substack Originals to go along with their new media tab in the app, and I got this question from Johnathan Dodson, which I answer above.

I think two things are true here:

1. Video and audio can be a great way to deepen your connection with your audience (heck, it’s what I’m doing right now).
2. You should do it only if you want to do it.

I reference Beth Spencer and the amazing work she does with her drawing sessions on Zoom, but she also makes videos for some of her posts, too.

A video like that brings you just a little bit closer to Beth. If you’re a fan, well, you’re probably a little bit more of a fan after watching that clip, you know?

At the same time, if the thought of talking on camera makes you sick to your stomach, then yeah, it’s probably a good idea to skip making videos. Or find a way to make videos in your own style, like Marcus does with his Probably Riding channel on Youtube.

I love how Marcus shares his love of riding bikes without ever doing the whole “talking into a camera” thing.

Photographer Noah Kalina walks around the woods and answers questions from his audience.

You can even just record small audio clips and upload those right to your posts, and those are wonderful, too! You don’t even need to make a full podcast – single blips of audio are still wonderful!

I don’t think you’ll get left behind by Substack if you don’t start making videos. Just focus on the subscribers you have in front of you today. Those are the people you need to build with, before you ever need to hope to get “promoted” by some official Substack channel.

When do we stop doing things we hate for people who don’t care and start doing things we love for people who already love what we do?

• “God, I hate posting on social media.”
• ”Making content for social media is so draining.”
• ”All the time I spend on social media promoting my work feels like such waste of time.”

We have people right in front of us – digitally, and in real life. Imagine if we spent our time and energy on them, instead of spinning our wheels on social media trying to impress everyone and no one?

Like Molly Ella says in ‘The hard truths of content creation” (emphasis mine):

“The community that I have grown online are the reason that I continue to do what I do. Their thoughtful messages and comments can lift me even on a bad day. I recognise the names that come back again and again and I’m so grateful for them.

I intend to continue to prioritise nurturing these existing relationships as opposed to solely focusing on attracting new people.”

Growing relationships isn’t just about subscribers or “fans,” either. It’s about the entire community that exists in the little world around us.

In the music world, this could include producers, label owners, painters who make album art, effects pedal makers, and/or the local record shop owner.

So instead of posting for “everyone” and hoping to get discovered, we build a foundation of great people in our orbit with intention. That community is how we’re going to untangle ourselves from the social media / creator economy shit show.

As Metalabel wrote, “The creative status quo has made us lonely content machines” (read the whole thing from their New Creative Era booklet).

Our individual Social Media Escape Plan gains momentum in backyards, and on Zoom calls with other creative spirits, without algorithims.

Let’s go.

I’m officially in “Not My Business” Season, for which I owe a debt of thanks to Olivia Rafferty for describing how I’ve been feeling most of this year.

This isn’t just for Substack authors- it’s for every creative person.

Social media made us believe we must become graphic designers, video editors, sound engineers, interview hosts, SEO experts, copywriters, and about a dozen other things in addition to the thing we do.

Experts will have you believe that if you tweak your About page a little bit more, focus on SEO, or make better thumbnails, then success is just around the corner!

Not my business.

Sure, there are some “best practices,” but the bar is low (ahem, a website and an email list). We’re not here to chase lowest common denominator tactics, we’re here to shift culture and change the world, right?

• Imagine spending more time on things that rejuvenate your soul instead of cosplaying as an overworked social media manager.
• Instead of learning how to navigate all the new features that Meta has set up on Instagram, imagine becoming a better musician, photographer, or artist.
• Spend most of our non-day job hours honing our craft rather than becoming part-time “content creators” while expecting full-time results.
• There’s a screen time app, but where’s the guitar time app, or painting time app? Imagine if we tracked our creative practice and saw that we spent three hours a day writing. We’d celebrate that, wouldn’t we?

We don’t need more subscribers; we need more heartbreak, laughter, and / or deep metaphysical talks about the afterlife in cemeteries on rainy evenings.

That’s the business I want.

Let’s stop worrying about growing our audience. Open your contacts app and reconnect with the people who came into your life but you stopped talking to because you felt just posting on social media was enough.

Get in the business of building connections instead of shouting.

We’re talking about art here, people. We’re not selling USB cables or homeowner insurance, we’re channeling the divine, spending time in the fog, smelling the flowers, jumping in puddles, and walking around museums.

That’s our business.

If you get people to your website, do your best to keep them there. If you’ve got a new video or song to promote, embed it on your own website and link to it from your newsletter and social media.

Direct people where it’ll have the biggest impact – SALES.

Add the piece of multimedia to your site, where you control the branding and layout. Optimize and make it easier for people to pre-order your new product or service, or even to just find out more about YOU.

Because sending to people to YouTube just keeps people on YouTube, which benefits YouTube.

Sending people to Spotify or Apple Music keeps them in the streaming music world.

Get people to your site, give them a reason to stick around, and don’t let that attention go to waste.

Years ago, when I ran Noisecreep for AOL Music, we had the Deftones in for a studio interview.

My pal Gino DePinto took the photo below.

To set the mood, he brought along his CD boombox and put on the band’s debut album ‘Adrenaline’ (yes, this was before Spotify even rolled out in the U.S.).

After the shoot, vocalist Chino Moreno walked past the boombox and pretended to remove the CD and fling it away.

Nobody likes their early stuff, it seems.

What’s this got to do with you setting up a website for your work?

You probably still haven’t set up a website because you’re sure it won’t get 1,000 clicks a day (so what’s the point?), and getting 23 likes on Instagram is just easier (and makes Zuckerberg rich).

Better to skip the whole website thing until you’ve really made it.

Now, I thought of putting together a list of 20 creative folks with their cool websites, but that’s like me putting together a list of 20 photographers and saying, “here, make your photos look like this.”

You’re the artist here, right? The writer? The poet? The instructor? The musician?

Years ago you closed your eyes and imagined your magic in the world.

You’ve created your artistic vision from nothing but imagination, refining your taste and becoming more comfortable with your creative output over the years. Decades.

Now, do that for your website.

Buy a domain at Hover (affiliate link), and try something fancy like Squarespace, Cargo, or Wix.

Just log in, make a free account, and mess around!

Try something weird like Straw. Make a simple one-page site with Carrd. Publish a Google Doc (or Slides) to the web, or a Miro board.

Grab some friends, learn some HTML, and upload your site to site44, Yay.boo or GitHub Pages.

Get together with a friend and build a website! COLLABORATE! Maybe hire or barter with someone to make it?!

Experiment! Play! Try things (you know, just like your art)!

Fill it with your bio, ideas, and videos. Include your wins, press hits, and the nice things people say about you.

“We post all our most interesting photos (on social media), the imagery that shows off our unique, creative spirit, the videos that capture our spontaneous, magical energy.

We won’t put any of those cool images on our website, then we complain that nobody goes to our website.”

You can still post all your work to YouTube and Spotify of course, for the D i S c O v E r Y, but once you have a direct connection with your fans, you can stop sending them to the food court at the mall – a world filled with distractions, cheap snacks, and flashing lights.

“When you drive someone to YOUR site, you control the branding, the vibe, the links, the experience.

When you drive someone to YouTube, your video is now competing with content that is algorithmically alluring to your fan!”

It’s standard practice to send out email newsletters with prominent links to watch videos on TikTok or YouTube, destinations owned by corporations that aim to show as many ads as possible.

They are optimized for this lone purpose, making sure your measly text link in the description or bio is obfuscated, as these companies don’t benefit when sending your fans to anything off-site.

Put your magical, delightful items on your own website. Let people discover you in a space that is purely your own, without hammering yourself into profile pages that just don’t fit right.

Is setting up a website easy? Heck no, but the art and magic you create isn’t easy either, and I believe that if you’ve come this far the hardest part of that equation is already done.