I started a weekly Newsletter. Then this happened.
Lessons from the famous Susbstack newsletter you never heard of + a hot take I hope you agree with so I don't feel alone.
Last week a counseling client asked me what ever happened to that newsletter I started? Oh the irony. I had been asking myself that same question for the last three-four weeks. Allow me to take you on a quick journey, and if you hang around ‘till the end, we’ll both know the answer to that question they asked. I’ll meet you at the end because I’d actually love to know the answer too.
“Starting something new is hard. What’s harder though is not starting.”
This was the title of my first Substack post. More to the Story was promised to be a “weekly newsletter on living a more present, grounded, and embodied life. Together, we'll engage the nuance and complexity of our stories to find beauty and meaning.”
It might have been better if I titled this one “Starting something new is hard. What’s harder though is starting, giving up, then starting again.”
The first post was on January 11th. The next on January 22nd and then again on January 29th. I did it! Essential one letter a week the first month (Hi-fives himself because no one else probably cares about him doing it).
Then the dust started to collect on the keyboard for the next month. Until I got inspired after a session to write my 4th post.
It’s now April 16th as I start writing this letter —count’s on his fingers—that’s 4 posts over 14 weeks. Not exactly accurate for a newsletter that was promised to be weekly.
That’s 10 newsletters that my 98 subscribers (essentially my wife, mom, and friends who probably don’t remember they signed up for this. Who’s Blake again? They ask themselves as this pops up in their inbox) didn’t get.
And I know, I just know, they’ve refreshed their inbox everyday since. Longing to see a new letter from “More to the Story.” To those of you who have haven’t left the house because you’ve been waiting for this letter, your welcome. You can go outside now.
So, what did happen to that newsletter I started?
The timing of that question was ironic because I had been pondering the idea of reviving this letter for a few weeks. I’ve become aware of some things that factored into the disappearance of this said weekly newsletter and I wanted to share them with you.
Honestly, this isn’t really about my newsletter. More-so, it’s about the process of having an idea/inspiration > tapping into your creativity > getting stuck and/or distracted as that thing disappears > wondering if you ought to pursue it again > having 6-7 “OH. 'I’VE FIGURED IT OUT. THIS is what I should do, all the while not actually doing anything > then attempting to try again.
Yeah… something like that. Sorry that’s not a clear process, but I think it’s something we can all relate to and my hope is that this inspires you to get back to creating. Even if you started then stopped or have that little voice in your head listing off really convincing reasons you should stop.

Hot Take (this is where you agree so I don’t feel alone): A part of me despises the “3 or 5 steps to achieve this very complex and nuanced thing that actually took me 78 steps to gain traction, where I learned valuable lessons about myself, that I’m now packaging to you in a way that speaks directly to the part of you who wants a 5 star meal made in a microwave” marketing strategy thing. To be clear though - thank God for microwaves.
Anyways, this isn’t that. Because if I’m honest with myself, it isn’t that simple. It STILL isn’t. The whole time I’ve been writing this I’ve had to tend to the parts of me who say things like “Blake, common. Stop this. You aren’t a writer. Substack is for legit writers. No one is going to take the time to read this when there’s people on here like
and .But for real though.... stop reading this and go read their stuff. You won't be disappointed. Or
for the laughs you didn't know you needed.Other parts that say things like you can’t monetize this. It’s a waste of time. Figure out something you can actually make enough money at and put all your eggs in that basket - because ya know, what’s contentment? I could go on.
You get the idea, I hope. The euphoria and honeymoon stage of my love with this newsletter idea faded and I was left with the reality of my story.
The parts of my story where I learned how to self protect from being hurt again. The parts where I picked up the message that my voice doesn’t matter. The parts where I came to believe that you can only create when there’s financial return. Oh, and that should happen quickly or you’re doing something wrong.
Some may think, “Blake, chill. Someone choosing to not read your letter, or disagreeing with something you write is not the end of the world or as big of a deal as you’re making it.
It’s not the same as being bullied, abused, neglected, loosing a relationship, etc.” Trust me…. I hear that too. However, to my brain and my nervous system it feels like the same threat. Idk why, ask science.
So, why am I back? Why make the time to write this letter?
To be clear, since I just made a dramatic hot take, these are not 4 steps to get unstuck and if you follow them you’ll be good. But, since our brain likes decomposition, may these be 4 steps you add to your process. Take what ya want, leave the rest.
1.) The process of creating redeems parts of our story.
When we hold messages about ourselves that aren’t true and don’t do things that challenge those messages, they feel true to our system. Then we react, or don’t react, according to that narrative being true. Challenging those narratives and, most importantly, not defining the validity of the narrative by other peoples response or engagement, creates space to re-write the narrative.
2.) Creating simply to create is as impactful, if not more, than creating to make money.
Easy to say for someone who isn’t making money on this, right? But seriously. I’ve spent the last couple months creating products with the intent on making money and have actually made said money with those products. Which I’m incredibly grateful for, don’t get me wrong. It also could probably turn into something if I pull all my eggs in it’s basket - which is honestly a weird phrase. I get it, but it’s weird.
I’m also grateful to have a job that I absolutely love and don’t need to have a side hustle right now. But, I do want to create and I do like to write. I also held this subconscious narrative that creativity and profitability had to be married to one another. Which, as I write that now, feels silly and super constricting.
Creating simply to create is much more freeing. If that turns into $$ that I’ll likely spend on more cardigans to fulfill the therapist stereotype, so be it. If it doesn’t, I really can be okay with that. Plus it’s almost summer in Tennessee and I won’t be able to wear sleeves until December because it gets so dang hot.
3.) To challenge the messages of how it “should” be done.
Everyone. has. an. opinion. of how it should be done. It’s supposedly what works in marketing. It’s also kind of what parts of us want if we’re honest. A lot of clients I see come in asking me to tell them what they should do. My challenge to that is “should” often comes attached with shame, and shame isn’t a healthy/sustaining motivator.
The moment I’m creating through the lens of how it should be done, or how I think it should be done based off how I see others doing it, I’ve lost the genuineness & genius of my creativity.
4.) I connect with a part of myself that I like. It’s fun.
At the end of the day, it’s just fun to write. At least that’s what it is for me right now. Particularly when I write how I have in this letter. Not being a perfectionist about grammar or where punctuation marks are “supposed” to go. I’m just writing for me right now. One of my favorite artists/authors Scott Erickson say’s:
“What’s most personal, is what’s most universal.”
And my hope is that something in here inspires you, stirs up some hope and gives you a little laugh.
Because I do believe you have something unique to create that someone in the world needs.
Even if that person is you.
Let’s engage in the comments.
This isn’t like those pointless college discussion boards that no one else reads. I’ve learned a decent bit about myself, and connected with some cool people simply through commenting on a post that impacted me.
1.) How would you define creativity? 2.) How would you define creativity?
2.) If you could add a 5th lesson, what would it be?
To clarify... no, number 1 isn’t a trick question. Just a dumb copy and paste error I didn’t catch when I switched the order of the questions 🙃
Awesome return letter! I appreciate your humorously self-deprecating yet self-aware writing style. It’s a much needed reminder that writing can be more than an academic endeavor.
Drawing my creativity definition from a conversation with my daughter. She’s an artist and had been sick and home from school for nearly a week. Countless hours spent laying down and often just watching shows or checking out. In my mind, it was the opportune time for her to sit at her “art desk” and create. She enlightened me…letting me know that although it seemed like this would be the perfect time, she actually just didn’t have the energy for it. This helped me to see that creativity is possibly energy invited to play. There’s an intentional element, a decision to devote the space and energy simply to the experience that creativity offers. And yet, it also can’t be forced. Interestingly, the creativity of one can offer inspiration for the creativity of another…thinking of how music is such a beautiful, group creative endeavor.
5th: It’s a great space to start practicing mindfulness. It’s easy to “zone in” and there’s an inherent deep breath that filters through. It’s that humbling reminder that we all require margin.