I'm cheating on Substack, and you should too.
How having a clandestine affair with a side project can help keep the writer spark alive.
Today’s story is a guest post from Meg Oolders, co-host of
, author of and creator of . Please “like,” share, and subscribe to her work, if you’re so inclined.
Psst … hey.
What are you working on right now?
No, no. Not that. The other one.
The one that keeps you up at night.
The one that makes your mind race every time you think about it.
The one you can’t wait to get back to at the end of your busy day.
The one you sneak away to for brief but fulfilling moments of satisfaction with during your busy day.
The one you’ve never mentioned in your Substack newsletter because you know once people find out about it, you’ll never feel the same way about it again.
Yes. That one.
Still got it?
Nice.
Don’t worry.
Your secret is safe with me.
Something strange happened to my relationship to writing when I started sharing everything I wrote with the world on Substack.
My writing hasn’t gone bad. On the contrary, my skills as a writer have only improved with the regular practice and consistency of courage that publishing a fiction newsletter demands.
However, since taking my writing romance public, my feelings about my work have become tainted with expectation, comparison, and doubt.
We’re such a cute couple, my story and I. Why don’t more people think so?
That person’s book is nicer, funnier, prettier, probably better in bed than mine. How can I compete with that?
Did I make a mistake committing to this story?
Should I break it off?
Should I swear off writing all together??
What was once pure and perfect in my lovestruck eyes, has become marred by flaws and inadequacies. What once made me burn with the life-affirming passion of a thousand suns has been reduced to a semi-weekly identity crisis followed by a mini-burst of dopamine-inducing “likes.”
If I get lucky.
Don’t get me wrong. “Likes” are nice. I like “likes.”
But sometimes, I miss my younger writing days. Those long, lonely days before I came to Substack with a dream of having my words read and my love of storytelling exposed—publicly—on the internet. The INTERNET!!! The beast that feeds all and satisfies none. Yes, that internet.
But while those days were lonelier, in one sense, it was impossible to feel alone in the company of so many voices, so many places, so many words! Hundreds of thousands of words, written by me, for me.
Did I believe those words were worth sharing with the world? YES!
Did I share them too soon, or perhaps too freely? I’ll never know.
I only know that if I want to rekindle the flame I once carried for writing, I must live a double life. I must remain staunchly committed to my craft, my education, my professional goals, my one-woman-show on the email newsletter stage, which can only go on if I show up.
But behind the curtain, in the dimly lit wings, a second act beckons. A rich and enticing bouquet of possibilities from which I need only pluck a single flower and devote a few small moments of my day, week, or month to feeding and watering. Admiring its delicate petals and reveling in its intoxicating fragrance. Giving it the space, time, and attention it needs to bloom into something new, different, and entirely mine.
Which flower I choose doesn’t matter …
A TV pilot.
A collection of sonnets.
A business plan for a side hustle.
A letter of resignation.
A coffee table book about coffee tables.
A grant proposal.
A listicle that makes fun of listicles.
A juicy piece of Substack fanfiction.
All that matters is I keep it backstage. Tucked away from the harsh spotlight of judgement, where it will be free from expectation, immune to comparison, and oblivious to doubt.
My secret project and I will never earn a standing ovation while we’re shacked up in the green room making beautiful music together. We won’t elicit couple envy, or garner any “likes” in public, but that’s not what it’s about for us.
For us, it’s about remembering how it good it feels to indulge in the indulgent. To create for the sake of creation. And to capture a bunch of words on a handful of pages with no intention of ever letting them go.
Remember that feeling?
Nice.
Don’t forget to feed it.
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I so agree. I love the collaborative aspect of Substack in so many ways, but I don’t want feedback on everything I write. Having the secret project that isn’t subject to commenting is my quiet little happy place. It’s just mine 🥰
I know exactly what you mean. The more I write posts for publication, the more I open other files or a notebook and write whatever the hell I want. Never to share!!! Well articulated 👍