Emergency, Sex and Other Pain Points of Substack Writers

On a flight back to London, Lara Acosta, glanced sideways and saw a man reading Emergency Sex and Other Desperate Measures.

Bold choice at 38,000 feet.

Within minutes, she assumed everything about him—from his profession to his purpose. A sex psychologist, maybe. Definitely rich. Definitely intriguing.

But here’s the twist: she was holding a book called The Nuclear Effect. And when he saw her title, he asked if she was in nuclear physics.

She told him she was an online entrepreneur.

They both laughed.

Both wrong.

Both human.

This, my friend, is the invisible game we’re all playing—especially on Substack.

Because whether we like it or not, people are constantly filling in the blanks.

They see your profile photo, your newsletter title, your latest post, and they decide who you are in seconds.

Is she a hobbyist?

A pro?

Is this newsletter worth reading?

Is this writer selling something?

And just like Lara on that plane, we do it too. We skim. We judge. We scroll past. And we don’t always give people the benefit of context.

The biggest pain points for Substack writers aren’t just low engagement or lack of time or the algorithm (though those sting too).

The real pain is being overlooked. Being slotted into the wrong category before your words are even considered.

That’s the emergency.

The good news? You can influence what people assume before you say a word.

Let’s talk about how.

The name of your newsletter.

What’s in the name? You may ask.

Well, my friends, the name of your newsletter is like a book cover.

People judge a book by its cover.

I should know. I’ve changed mine four times.

I started with A Whimsical Writer—clever, mysterious, maybe even charming. It implied I was a writer who followed her whims, which, frankly, I did.

Then came Letters From A Whimsical Writer, because I realized these weren’t just essays, they were letters. Intimate. Personal.

Then I had a big idea.

Everything Is A Book. A bold declaration. I decided I’d write a book every quarter on Substack. I did—four books in one year. But my subscriber count didn’t reflect the effort. Turns out, just writing books isn’t enough if your name doesn’t draw the right people in.

So I pivoted again. Author Circle felt solid. Clear. I wanted a space where aspiring authors could come together, write books, and build something meaningful. A writing village, so to speak.

But now—one year, many posts, and several identity crises later—I’m sitting with the itch again.

Should I change it one more time?

Because let’s be honest: names matter. And also… they don’t.

There are wildly successful newsletters with names that tell you nothing about the content, like 1440 (news), Dense Discovery (tech/culture), or The Morning Brew (business news), pulling in millions. Their name didn’t carry them. Their consistency, clarity, and relevance did.

But then, there are newsletters where the name does the heavy lifting: The Proof (writing/editing), The Profile (profiles of fascinating people), or Category Pirates (positioning and business strategy). You know what you're in at the first glance.

So in a nutshell…

A great name won’t save weak content. But a confusing name can slow down your growth. The best name is one that sets the tone, signals the promise, and most importantly, feels aligned with the next version of you.

No clear niche or value proposition.

The majority of Substack writers are just paddling in a vast ocean, trying to stay afloat. They’re reading advice, watching tutorials, tweaking headlines, and praying that the next post will finally catch the algorithm’s fancy—or someone’s attention.

They’re not lazy. They’re learning. But they’re also drowning.

And here’s the hard truth: a drowning man doesn’t lean on another drowning man.

Readers aren’t looking for someone who’s still “figuring it out.” They’re looking for someone who has figured something out—or is at least one step ahead and clear about the value they offer.

That’s what your newsletter needs: a lifeboat. A sturdy, well-marked vessel with a clear direction.

What you need is a niche with a promise.

Not just “writing,” but how to write a book that builds your business.
Not just “stories,” but true stories that help you survive midlife and find meaning.
Not just “marketing,” but unscalable strategies that get you your first 100 clients.

A niche isn’t a box—it’s a beacon.

It tells people, “This is for you.”

And a value proposition isn’t about what you do—it’s about what your reader gets.

If your homepage or about section doesn't clearly answer: “Why should I care? What will this do for me?” Then people will click away, even if your writing is beautiful.

Without a clear niche and a strong passion, you’re just treading water—one newsletter issue at a time.

But with it?

You become the person people look to when they’re drowning.

Lots of information and no transformation.

Do you subscribe to way too many Substack newsletters?

I do.

A whole bunch of them.
Two hundred and seventy, to be precise.

Each one dutifully churns out at least one issue a week. Some go for two. A few daredevil overachievers hit publish every single day. Daily dispatches of wisdom, hot takes, or reflections from their personal trenches.

Do I read them all?

Hell no.

But I do read a fair number. And when I scroll through my inbox, I don’t click based on a catchy headline or a clickbaity hook. I click on the ones that promise to teach me something. Something useful. Something I didn’t know ten minutes ago. Something that might just shift the way I work, write, think—or even live.

In short: I want transformation, not just information.

And that’s where most Substack writers fall short.

They write to express, to process, to share—and that’s beautiful. But if you want growth, you need to go one step further. You need to give your reader a result.

It doesn’t have to be life-changing. It can be tiny. Micro-transformations count.

Can your post help someone write a better LinkedIn bio? Reframe a limiting belief? Organize their book idea? Make one smarter decision today?

If your newsletter leaves the reader thinking, “Huh, that’s interesting,” that’s good.
But if it leaves them saying, “Oh wow, I can actually use this.” Now you’re in business.

So ask yourself before you hit publish:
What am I helping my reader do, become, or understand by the end of this issue?

That’s the difference between content that gets scanned… and content that gets shared.

And finally, your content.

The reference to sex in the headline refers to your content.

Ever wondered why some writers compare the high from writing to the high from having sex?

Because it is.

When it's good, it’s really good. It makes you feel alive. Seen. Heard. Tingly in all the right intellectual places.

And not just for the writer. For the reader too.

That’s what great writing does—it seduces. It holds your attention like a lingering gaze across a crowded room. It starts with a whisper of a headline, but the real magic is in the follow-through. Because let’s be honest: a sexy headline with limp content is like a promising first date that ends in disaster.

And we’ve all been there.

In the early days, most of us are just making out in the backseat of our creative car—writing fast, wild, a little desperate, mostly unplanned. We publish often, hoping something sticks. We chase hacks. We flirt with virality. We throw ourselves into content like we’re twenty and in love with the idea of being read.

But then, after millions of words, rejections, rewrites, and a few creative hangovers… something changes.

You graduate.

You start practicing adult writing.

Not because you’ve lost your fire—but because you’ve found your rhythm. Your style. Your voice.

Adult writing is less instructional and more thoughtful. It doesn’t shout; it leans in. It’s infused with nuance, wit, wisdom, and restraint. It’s less “here’s how to be productive” and more “here’s what it means to create a life worth writing about.”

That’s when readers start to find you. Not because you gamed the algorithm, but because your energy is irresistible.

But the question remains: how do you get there?

How do you evolve from backseat blogger to literary seducer?

Here are a few things to try:

1. Write less to teach, more to reveal. Let your posts show who you are, not just what you know.

2. Let structure serve your voice, not silence it. Add rhythm, not rigidity.

3. Cut the fluff. Add delight. A well-placed metaphor or moment of vulnerability will do more than ten bullet points ever could.

4. Don’t chase engagement. Chase resonance. When a post makes someone feel understood, they share it.

5. Let your obsessions guide you. If you're turned on by the topic, chances are your reader will be too.

Because in the end, readers don’t fall in love with formats. They fall in love with you.

And great writing? It’s just your personality… with punctuation

Yes, it’s about writing.

If you’ve made it this far, you already know: writing on Substack isn’t just about stringing smart sentences together.

It’s about perception. Positioning. Personality.

It’s about turning information into transformation.

And it’s about growing up from backseat scribbler to someone whose words carry weight—and leave a mark.

The headline might get the click.
But the writing? The real, resonant, unforgettable writing?
That’s the sexy part.

So here’s what’s next.

Over the coming weeks, I’m going to dive deeper into this whole messy, magical process of writing on Substack.

Not just how to write, but how to write in a way that:

– Stands out without selling out
– Feels like you (on your best day)
– Helps you find your rhythm, your readers, and maybe even your voice
– Turns your newsletter into a body of work you’re proud of

Think of it as a craft series for the modern, ambitious, slightly chaotic Substack writer.

Every Wednesday, I’ll send out one tight, actionable, and genuinely useful issue to help you move one step closer to that grown-up writing life, where your words do the work, and your readers stick around for more.

If you’d like to transform into the writer of your dreams, consider becoming a paid subscriber.

Let’s go from good writing to unforgettable writing. Together.

Wednesday’s post is “Your Best Ideas Are Hiding in the Wrong Drawer”

See you next Wednesday.

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That’s all from me today.

As always, thanks for reading.