What should I write about? 💌

Notes on removing the paywall, and a six-month Substack check in.

‘Have you… got a moment?’

Those five words really take me back to working in the office of a global radio station as a 25-year-old adult baby (yep, I won the career lottery), having palpitations because I was never sure whether I was about to get bestowed with an exciting new creative project involving [insert name of famous band here]… or told off because I’d retweeted someone with a swearword in their username to millions of people. 

Both of which happened. On more than one occasion.

I wouldn’t be so bold as to barge into your inbox to tell you off, of course. Firstly you’ve allowed me to be here, and for that I’m very grateful. Secondly, live your life my friend. 

Butttt if I could trouble you for a few minutes, I would love your input as I approach something of a bi-annual Notes On A Moment review. Which is hopefully more interesting than I’ve just made it sound…

I launched this Substack six months ago (!) with a similar mix of the above excitement and terror that used to punctuate my working life. After faffing about with the launch of Notes On A Moment for months, I was buoyed by the enthusiasm I received from both in real life friends and internet followers; virtual cheerleaders who have taken something from my words in any number of random places over the last 15 years - from diabetes blogs to news bulletins. I too was excited - to have found a better platform to place my writing, after repeatedly exceeding the Instagram character limit for quite some time.

Post after post, I’d spend hours chopping my written thoughts down to fit a platform built for images, which quite honestly is a lesson in brevity I still need to cement. But I relished in the deeper thinking and the broader pondering I was permitted when I switched back to long form, turning down plans to make sure I published on time, pouring an incredible amount of hours and care into each newsletter. I put that initial work behind a paywall in earnest, because I believed in the value of (good) words.

I still do, of course. Words are my lifeblood, and my livelihood. But I quickly realised that Substack, for me, is not the place to ask for that money, nor do I think this lovely little audience are the people I should be asking for that money from. 

Although I am a professional writer, this is not a professional publication. From the jump this was intended to be a space to play, and thankfully I’ve held onto that. But the pressure of making it worthy of a monthly fee; a portion of people’s hard-earned cash when life is expensive and there’s a cost of living crisis and I’m just one of a million voices creating noise on the internet in varying shades of everything from helpful wisdom to quite frankly terrifying misinformation… it threatened to undermine that joy I’d reignited when I wandered over to Substack, came up with a little name, designed a little logo and hit publish for the first time.

To be clear: I don’t intend to go anywhere. Not that I’m suggesting my musings about life are in any way impacting yours, but my open rate’s not bad, so at the very least there’s that. The intention here hasn’t changed, nor have my beliefs about the power of words. As I state in the first few lines of my rather grandiose About page, I love stories as a way of processing the world, of connecting people to new ideas, to each other… but most of all to themselves.

I LOVE the vulnerability that I can put into writing, in the way that it creates space for others to be vulnerable too. I love the impact that the right kind of (human) words can have on someone. Through this craft I’ve also learnt the power of knowing when to withhold your words. And as terrifying as AI is, there’s a place for those words, too. The magic of creativity for me is all about connection through curiosity, and right now at least, on this platform at least, I want to keep giving away my words to anyone with whom my words and stories connect with. I want people to have the choice to read all of those words if they want to, because it is an honour that you spend even a minute absorbing the way I see the world through the way I string these words together. It is honestly incredible to me that you are choosing to read this, when there are infinite alternatives.

I paused payments months ago as my self-employed work demands continued to clash, threatening to turn this joyful, delicious thing I’d birthed into another stressful deadline I was perpetually close to missing. I never subscribed to the article preview tactics, marketing techniques or other such gubbins that I’m consistently reminded to utilise to turn a curious reader into a paying subscriber. Maybe I’m just a bit shit at business, but to me it all just works to diminish those natural, precious sparks of inspiration that are the seeds - and the magic - of creativity.

So my question to you dear reader is, rather unimaginatively… what do you want me to write about?

Since February I’ve covered a lot of ground. From productivity to burnout to adventure to type 1 diabetes to running to nostalgia to grief to setting boundaries to moving countries to staring the depths of myself in the face (casual)… it’s all varying threads of the tapestry that is a delicious, rich and messy life. Through the living of it all rather, shall we say, intrepidly, I’ve weaved and will continue to weave this gorgeously imperfect thing together, flecked with just as many wild adventures, as adventures in the everyday. 

And ain’t that the beauty of it?

Pausing existing payments as well as preventing any new payments immediately felt right, and so that is how they shall remain as I continue to experiment with what it is I slide into your inbox with at regular intervals here. There’s also the myriad other creative places I show up, including the aforementioned Instagram (because pictures are nice too) and the Type 1 on 1 podcast, if you’d like either less reading or more type 1 diabetes.

I launched this newsletter promising absolutely zero answers (sorry), only that I would get curious about the questions. And it’s through this mix of everything and nothing - this universally shared yet universally unique experience of being a thinking feeling human, living a life - that I have hopefully been able to connect with anyone. But this penchant for trying to frame and distill parts of the human experience means that just about every subject remains on the table. I have so many thoughts sometimes that I get absolutely tied up in knots about where to put them, or indeed where I might have already put them - unsure if I really did file that invoice or if I just dreamt about it, whether I put that podcast recommendation in Notes or Notion, realising as I text Alex L back after one day that I was meant to write back to Alex M three weeks ago as I have another idea for a Reel while simultaneously booking my next flight.

…Or retweeting K***y Karl’s enthusiastic response to two million people without checking his username first.

So today, in the spirit of connection and collaboration, I would absolutely love it if you could kindly comment below (or message me on That Picture App if you’d prefer) with any of the subjects you’ve particularly enjoyed reading about, any topics that you’d like to read about going forward, or indeed whether reading about the vastness and multitudes of a life lived is exactly why you’re subscribed?

Thank you for subscribing.

Thank you if you paid.

But more than anything, thank you so much for letting me stick around.