I pay for a sub to a publishing industry newsletter called The Hot Sheet. It’s great, but only if you make your quids from the writing and publishing grift. I did love this item from today’s mailout however. I mentioned Salman Rushdie and some of the other big dick Lit guys moving to Substack a while back.
Apparently, it’s not going well.
Newsletter fatigue sets in for Rushdie and others. The Hot Sheet.
We’re not even at the six-month mark since some of the star-powered Substack and Facebook newsletter deals were announced, and at least one outlet is reporting that “newsletter writer fatigue” has set in. Andrew Federov at Off the Record reports (subscription required) that Salman Rushdie has been reduced to “writing up lackluster ask me anythings” and Malcolm Gladwell is “scraping out lukewarm takes that would make even the most harried web editor grimace.”
I presume Substack didn't provide any warning to the gentlemen concerned that keeping up a flow of regular, interesting words for immediate consumption is quite different when one is (and this is an observation, no kind of criticism) in the business of periodically handing down profundities when the mood strikes or something is interesting in the news than for, say, someone who literally lives and dies on regular copy.
You can only write so much about covid and meal prep in lockdowns. Toss in an occasional note about they guy riding his motorcycle with a mask but no helmet.
There was an article I read recently that opined that the "job" of professional pundit: to be able to opine on any topic, on a continuous basis, must surely be a route to madness.
I have no view or understanding of the economics of writing, but imagine that it must be like most things: best in a directed groove, with varying pace as suits the mood. No?
Different tours of writing are different, but yeah. Sort of. Regularity I’d great, but of regular commitment rather than regular output. Some days the words flow. Some days they trickle.
Regular commitment still requires regular output. I have 2 deadlines looming next week and only one piece half written. Complete blank sheet for the other. I know I'll knuckle down and get it all done but them words be only dribbling so far. Funny enough, last month I wrote about trickle down and the content fairly gushed out.
I presume Substack didn't provide any warning to the gentlemen concerned that keeping up a flow of regular, interesting words for immediate consumption is quite different when one is (and this is an observation, no kind of criticism) in the business of periodically handing down profundities when the mood strikes or something is interesting in the news than for, say, someone who literally lives and dies on regular copy.
I suspect Substack cut them cheque, dropped a press release, and that was it.
This is a classic case of "easier said than done."
You can only write so much about covid and meal prep in lockdowns. Toss in an occasional note about they guy riding his motorcycle with a mask but no helmet.
Who'd have thunk it?
There was an article I read recently that opined that the "job" of professional pundit: to be able to opine on any topic, on a continuous basis, must surely be a route to madness.
I have no view or understanding of the economics of writing, but imagine that it must be like most things: best in a directed groove, with varying pace as suits the mood. No?
Different tours of writing are different, but yeah. Sort of. Regularity I’d great, but of regular commitment rather than regular output. Some days the words flow. Some days they trickle.
Jeebus. I gotta stop using my iPhone to comment.
Regular commitment still requires regular output. I have 2 deadlines looming next week and only one piece half written. Complete blank sheet for the other. I know I'll knuckle down and get it all done but them words be only dribbling so far. Funny enough, last month I wrote about trickle down and the content fairly gushed out.