Three Months on Substack
Who doesn't love a retrospective?
“Grow where you are planted.” The sandwich board outside a health food restaurant.
WTF Over has reached its third month. My chest swells with pride, for I managed to semi-consistently pump out essays of varying quality week after week. 26 have escaped into the wild thus far. 27 if I count this one.
The people’s choice award goes to MAGAsexuals, a mockery of conservative men acting like adolescent boys:
My favorite, however, was Happy Treason Day!, a meditation on margaritas, explosives, and celebrating Independence Day when not feeling particularly patriotic:
The most personally enjoyable to write was a biblical parody, The Book of Lutnick:
The worst performing was a discussion of Israel’s attack on Iran and imminent U.S. involvement. I suspect Substack’s algorithm may have detected too many no-no words. The analytics show almost no one who wasn’t already subscribed was shown this essay.
Donald Trump is almost always the villain of my tales, although Elon Musk receives honorable mention. The comic relief is typically members of Trump’s cabinet and occasionally the Democratic Party. A protagonist has yet to emerge. Topically, the 26 essays have covered America’s slide into authoritarianism, artificial intelligence, and the Democratic Party’s ineptitude, as well as the occasional theologic, literary, or philosophic foray in the service of trash talking Trump.
There have been challenges I did not anticipate. When this project was but an ill-conceived idea back in February, I honestly thought I would be writing about the weedy details of government. Events quickly disabused me of this notion. The government I understood so well has ceased to exist. The rules of the road are being rewritten constantly. This turn of fortune forced me to recalibrate. With wonkery having lost its luster, I leaned into larger thematic topics and humor. I don’t hate that outcome.
It has freed me to explore the eclectic thoughts bouncing between my ears. The situation also grants me license to ramble, joke, and take intellectual detours. I fumble towards a climax, or lack thereof and wrote endings that invite readers to draw their own conclusions (I received feedback I’m a weirdo and should stop doing this). Thankfully, the Substack stakes are low. I also allow myself ample time to get to the point. My essays begin lighthearted and seemingly tangential to the topic at hand, and then progressively build into something more serious.
This approach undoubtedly puts off the reader looking for a casual distraction or quick hit off the ol’ dopamine pipe. We live in an age of short attention spans, after all. I imagine many people are reading this on their smartphone, which is an attention deficit inducing device if there ever was one. The format is perhaps ill-suited for my style.
My essays are long form and often a few days behind the zeitgeist. My first works clocked in around 3,000 words (about 15 pages in a paperback novel), but I’m endeavoring to drive that down to 1,500. Admittedly, this means I am conforming (barely) to the attention deficit economy bemoaned one paragraph prior.
Choosing what to write about has also been a surprising challenge. One would think in today’s world, where news is breaking practically every minute of the day, this wouldn’t be a problem for a political-oriented Substack. There is a veritable smorgasbord on offer. Therein lies the difficulty.
Do I narrate events as they unfold or take the time to provide greater analysis? The former is a full-time job, and blogging doesn’t pay the bills. Plus, by the time I can gather supplementary information and form what I consider to be a useful opinion, what I wanted to write about is often overcome by fresh WTFs. For every essay I post, I find myself abandoning two or three mid-stream.
I also believe it’s important to revisit old news when the Trump Administration is speed running democracy. As time marches, the picture comes into focus and seemingly small events from the past become more consequential. Analysis also has the benefit of extending the shelf life of writing, but that is not a feature rewarded by algorithms. They do not mine old veins for new deposits.
Along those lines, I fear I am adopting a bit of a starving artist mentality, whereby I refuse to sell out and bow to social media conventions. For you see, if I were to take the time to hone this Substack into a popular product, I’m afraid it would cease to amuse me. I don’t enjoy writing quick blurbs, clickbait, or hot takes. If I did these things, I fear this cocoon of writing would evolve into an ugly moth seeking the algorithmic flame, instead of a butterfly flitting about the garden searching for thoughts to pollinate.
As much as I want to stay true to myself/keep it real/be authentic, I’m no different from any other writer. We are needy things by nature. After all, what I write reflects how I think. It is a testament to the quality of my intellect.
To allow others to peer inside my mind and judge its contents with the click of a little heart button (or the lack thereof) is to subject myself to a masochistic process. The results might disappoint or, worse, disillusion me from sharing my writing altogether. It’s why encouragement matters to us scribes, and likes and readership growth is the best approximation available on Substack.
About 90 people have joined my little corner of the internet so far. Those numbers aren’t blowing anyone’s minds or winning awards, but I find solace in the fact most of my subscribers regularly open my emails. I have also received supportive words from some of you I know in real life. I sincerely appreciate that. Feedback keeps the ego warm, which keeps the essays flowing.
I call that a win, for now.
On that note, I ask my regular readers to grant me two small favors:
Please share WTF Over with anyone you think may enjoy this hot mess. The algorithm doesn’t love me (yet), so I must ask for your support. To share WTF Over with others, click the below button and enter an email address. Doing so will not add the email address to any marketing lists, etc. Nor will the recipient continue to receive my essays unless they independently subscribe.
To help prod those silly algorithms into disseminating my work, please click that little heart button at the end of the email or leave a comment.
Cheers,
Blake
PS—In my inaugural post, I wrote, “This is me being me, writing about interests, raging against provocations and looking for moments of levity.” In retrospect, that was a fun way of saying I had no clue who my audience was, what I wanted to write about, or if I would even use a consistent voice. I think that statement is still true, more or less. The improvisational nature of this project isn’t about to let up anytime soon. Sorry about that.
Keep doing what you’re doing!