Substack Doesn’t Need You To Succeed. It Needs You To Believe.
How to build your writing dream on Substack — without the bullshit
You’re not the customer.
You’re the product.
Substack was never designed to make you rich.
It was designed to make you believe you could be.
And for a while, that illusion works.
A clean editor. A “Send” button. A promise of direct connection.
No algorithm. No middleman. Just you, your words, and the people who “care.”
Sounds pure, right?
Except here’s the catch:
The platform’s success doesn’t depend on your growth.
It depends on your hope.
The great newsletter gold rush
Between 2020 and 2022, Substack pulled off something brilliant.
It took a tool that’s existed for 20 years — the email newsletter —
and repackaged it as a revolution.
Suddenly, writing online wasn’t about Twitter threads or Medium virality anymore.
It was about owning your audience.
Monetizing your voice.
Getting paid to be you.
Add a few star names (Matt Taibbi, Bari Weiss, Heather Cox Richardson) —
and the dream sold itself.
“You could be next.”
“You don’t need an editor.”
“All you need is a hundred true fans.”
Thousands jumped in.
Hundreds paid for Ghostwriters.
Dozens wrote threads about writing newsletters.
And a handful made serious money.
But here’s what nobody told you:
Substack never promised success.
It promised a slot machine.
Let’s look at the numbers
According to Substack’s own 2023 transparency report:
Only 17% of paid writers made more than $1,000 per month.
The median paid newsletter earns less than $100/month.
The top 10 publishers take home over 35% of all subscription revenue on the platform.
That’s not a long tail.
That’s a power law with a guillotine.
And it’s not a bug.
It’s the model.
Hope is the business model
Substack doesn’t charge you upfront.
You sign up. You write. You send. You hustle.
And when — if — you start earning, they take 10%.
Smart, right?
But even smarter:
Substack profits whether you make it or not.
Because their brand is powered by your ambition.
Your posts. Your growth hacks. Your threads.
Every “I just started a Substack” post on X is a free ad.
The more people who believe it’s possible,
the more people who write,
and the more chances someone will break through.
Substack doesn't need 1,000 winners.
It needs 10,000 dreamers.
And that’s exactly what it has.
Why it feels “cleaner” than social media
Let’s be fair:
Yes, Substack has a better vibe than Twitter.
Yes, owning your email list matters.
Yes, long-form writing is essential.
But those things don’t make it a miracle.
They make it a platform.
And like any platform, it thrives when you:
Publish consistently
Market constantly
Learn SEO, storytelling, copywriting, psychology
Build community, run promotions, post on socials
Send DMs, start referral loops, optimize conversion
That’s not freedom.
That’s content entrepreneurship with a minimalist coat of paint.
The quiet pressure to monetize
Substack has built-in metrics:
Opens. Clicks. Growth. Churn.
A shiny “turn on paid” button that stares at you like a dare.
Even if you started “just for fun,”
the interface quietly whispers:
“Are you valuable yet?”
“Have you earned the right to charge?”
And suddenly your love of writing morphs into a KPI dashboard.
You’re not just building a newsletter.
You’re building a funnel. A brand. A business.
In their own words:
“We want writers to make money.”
But they don’t say how many writers.
Or how much money.
The illusion of ownership
You might say:
“But at least I own my list.”
Technically, yes.
You can export your subscribers anytime.
But practically?
You’re still locked into:
Substack’s layout
Substack’s payment processor
Substack’s network and discovery engine
Substack’s limits on segmentation, automation, A/B testing
The second you want to level up — serious CRM, courses, community, upsells —
you hit a wall.
Unless you leave.
And guess what?
That friction is part of the design.
Here's the hard truth
Substack is better than Medium.
It’s cleaner than Mailchimp.
It’s more ethical than Instagram.
But that doesn’t make it your savior.
That makes it a business.
And like any business built on creator dreams,
it doesn’t need everyone to succeed.
It just needs everyone to try.
Because the top earners fuel the marketing.
The mid-tiers fuel the ecosystem.
And the hopeful newcomers fuel the myth.
And if I told you that 85% of writers who “go paid” never even cover their rent?
If I told you Substack’s top growth driver… is people tweeting they just started a Substack?
If I told you that “you can leave anytime” works just like a gym subscription?
You’d realize:
This isn’t a revolution. It’s a treadmill with better fonts.
👉 I break down the actual business model behind Substack,
the math that makes hope profitable,
and the real alternatives for building sustainable writing income —
in the Premium part.
It’s in this newsletter.
The one you’re reading now.
Because someone had to say it.
How to build your writing dream on Substack — without the bullshit
So.
You’re not naïve.
You know Substack won’t make you rich overnight.
You know most newsletters stall after 3 issues.
And you’re still here.
Good.
Because here’s the twist no one tells you:
Substack can still work — if you stop using it the way it wants you to.
What Substack wants from you (and why you need to resist it)
Let’s be blunt.
Substack wants you to start fast and stay dependent.
You write.
You share.
You send.
You wait for the algorithm to pick you up.
It’s just enough dopamine to keep you going.
But not enough control to build real leverage.
Their pitch is:
“Focus on your words. We’ll handle the rest.”
Translation:
“Stay small. Stay inside. Don’t ask too many questions.”
Wrong strategy.
If you want to build a real writing business, you need a different mindset.
1. Don’t build an audience. Build a thesis.
People don’t pay for content.
They pay for clarity.
For filters.
For someone who reads the world for them.
If your newsletter is just a mix of thoughts, links, life updates, and takes —
you’re competing with the internet.
You’ll lose.
But if your newsletter makes a promise like:
“I decode marketing BS so you don’t waste money.”
“I track emerging trends before they go mainstream.”
“I show what AI can really do — and what it can’t.”
“I explain the invisible systems that shape your job, rent, and options.”
Then you’re in business.
You’re no longer a creator.
You’re a curator of signal.
The tighter your thesis, the stronger your moat.
Substack is just the shell.
Your point of view is the product.
2. Don’t monetize too early
This is the trap.
You publish five posts.
You get 100 subscribers.
Substack nudges you: “You’re growing fast. Ready to turn on paid?”
Stop.
If you charge too soon:
You kill your momentum
You create a paywall with nothing behind it
You scare away people who were still warming up
Instead, build trust.
Write 10–15 free posts that prove you’re worth reading.
Not fluff. Not filler.
Actual value.
Then — when you’ve got proof — make your offer.
“If this free stuff helps you think clearer,
the premium stuff goes even deeper.”
3. Make paid worth paying for
Here’s what doesn’t work:
Gated versions of the free posts
Vague “support my work” messaging
A promise of more, but not better
Here’s what does:
✅ Exclusive deep-dives they can’t find anywhere else
✅ Templates, strategies, resources, toolkits
✅ Audio or video versions with extra commentary
✅ A private community (Slack, Circle, Geneva…)
✅ Real-time access to you for feedback or Q&A
✅ Mini-courses or serialized content
✅ Monthly reports, benchmarks, checklists, prompts
Whatever the format: create compounding value.
People pay for outcomes, not output.
They want to get smarter, faster, freer.
Give them that — not just another opinion.
4. Substack Discovery isn’t a growth strategy
You are not going viral.
And that’s okay.
The “Readers like this also read…” carousel feels nice.
But it’s not a business model.
Real growth comes from:
Guest essays on adjacent newsletters
Twitter/X threads with sharp excerpts from your work
LinkedIn carousels that link to your articles
Doing podcast interviews as “the person who writes about X”
Running webinars, workshops, or AMAs
Offering your best post as a downloadable PDF
Swapping shoutouts with other writers strategically
Creating a waitlist for a free mini-course that leads back to your premium
And yes — sometimes paying for ads.
Don’t expect Substack to hand you an audience.
Earn it outside. Bring it in.
5. Have an exit strategy (even if you stay)
Substack owns the rails.
You own the list.
But just in case?
Back up your list monthly
Use a custom domain (no exceptions)
Keep copies of every issue offline
Test the waters with platforms like Beehiiv, Ghost, ConvertKit
Set up an external sales page for premium products (Gumroad, Lemon Squeezy, your site)
You don’t have to leave.
But if you ever do, your business survives.
Freedom means options.
Not loyalty.
Real case studies — real results
Case #1: The Deep Niche Expert
Subject: Cybersecurity for small businesses
Free subscribers: 2,400
Premium: $15/month
Revenue: ~$2,500/month
Model: Weekly case studies + monthly toolkits + Slack group
Why it works: Specific pain, clear ROI, B2B-friendly
Case #2: The Culture Analyst
Subject: The hidden systems behind trends, media, politics
Free subs: 8,000
Premium subs: 520
Revenue: $3,800/month
Model: 1 free post per week, 2 premium essays/month, + podcast
Why it works: Unique voice, deep research, trust from social media over 2 years
Case #3: The Coach in Disguise
Subject: Work, burnout, career reinvention
Free subs: 3,000
Premium: $12/month or $100/year
Revenue: $1,200/month + $3,000/month in coaching upsells
Model: Newsletter + gated exercises + email-based coaching
Why it works: Soft funnel, practical help, emotional resonance
So, should you start a paid Substack?
Only if you can answer “yes” to these:
Do I know what promise I’m making to my reader?
Am I writing things they can’t get from social media?
Do I have a plan for growth outside the platform?
Can I deliver consistent value — and not just write when I feel like it?
Am I willing to treat this like a product, not a diary?
If you said “maybe,” that’s okay.
Start for free.
Find your groove.
Test. Tweak. Build.
But don’t confuse Substack’s simplicity with ease.
Publishing is easy.
Building trust is not.
Final warning
Substack doesn’t need you to succeed.
But it’s not trying to screw you either.
It just needs you to stay long enough,
work hard enough,
and believe deep enough
that someone will make it — and it might as well be you.
That belief is powerful.
But belief without a plan is a trap.
Write with a strategy.
Grow with intention.
Charge with integrity.
And when the platform shifts — don’t beg. Adapt.
That’s how you win.
Not by hoping Substack saves you.
But by making sure it never owns you.