One year later, the taste of success is (a little) different

I still hunger for recognition but publishing every week feels like a triumph

For a long time, I measured success in writing with the publication of a book. I haven’t said that outright here, but it’s high time I did. My unspoken assumption has been that nonfiction writers who want to be taken seriously, and who are successful, publish a book, whether it’s a straight memoir, a collection of essays, or something else. In fact, almost 20 years ago, I wrote a business-y book¹ and I relish having earned the title of author.

However, publishing on Substack almost every week for the past two-and-a-half years has stirred a different hunger in me… the desire for MORE. More paid subscribers, but also more free subscribers, more recognition, more accolades. I am still longing to become a Substack Featured Publication²; Substack Team are you listening?!

My first and biggest craving was to become a Substack bestseller³; when that happened, it prompted my very personal essay about the ambivalence of achieving a big goal. Now, one year later, I want to revisit the whole notion of success.

Has my definition of success changed since I’ve reached the bestseller milestone?

Yes and no. Yes because I can’t seem to stifle my naturally competitive spirit, and if wanting more makes me sound greedy, so be it. But no—let’s make that a NO—because I’m finding it more appealing to revel in what I am doing, which is writing and publishing every single week. Since childhood, my goal has been to call myself a writer. Writers write… and dammit, I’m doing it, writing every week, experimenting with style and interacting with lovely readers, all while beating my strong tendency to procrastinate and to self sabotage by not finishing or publishing.

My hard-earned title of Writer feels like more of a success than any checkmark, than a featured publication badge, or a certain number of subscribers.

Still, back to my desire for recognition… I reveled in a sweet face-to-face moment several weeks ago with Substack co-founder Hamish McKenzie. As a “bestseller” I’d been invited to a Substack meetup in lower Manhattan (at Substack’s new office). I stepped out of the elevator into a sea of Gen Z-ers, recognizing not a single person except… Hamish. I [b]oldly approached him and stuck out my hand. He was very friendly and responded, “You look very familiar… do I know you from Notes?” I wrote up our nyc encounter in a Note, and Hamish replied. That tasted like success!