Back in the spring of 2021, I published a Twitter thread about some research I’d done on 7-figure newsletter companies.
I had been lucky to get unprecidented access to leaders in that industry, and over the course of about six months, I’d boiled down the business model in a way no one had really shared up to that point.
Newsletters were very popular, and the tweet spread fast.
A friend at the time recommended that I publish another thread. And another, and another. One a day for the next 30 days or so, in order to ride the wave, build my Twitter following, and establish my name as a go-to resource in the field.
It would have been easy enough. I had 500+ pages of edited insights, plus hundreds more in interview transcripts, P&Ls, and more.
In about twenty minutes, I wrote an outline of what the publication schedule would look like.
The first few days went well, I was stacking followers like never before. But then two things happened:
- I hit a day where I didn’t feel like writing, and
- I worried, “What if I run out of things to say?”
That was two years ago, and in a lot of ways, my career went on pause that day.
I’ve continued to work (a lot). And learn. And publish in other places.
But my personal audience-growth (especially on that topic) mostly stalled, and I still haven’t worked my way through that original list of 30 threads. And now I think that was a mistake.
Giving in to number one is always a mistake. Any pro knows that.
But number two was more complex.
Because in a weird way, it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I was worried about running out of things to say. So I didn’t say anything. And the effect was the same, except now, my research isn’t out in the world working for me like it could. And I’m also sort of stuck, because I can’t possibly move on to anything new until I get this out in the world.
Don’t feel too bad for me. The last two years have been fun.
But the lesson is an important one: It is both selfish and self-destructive to hold back your ideas just to make them last longer.
If I were giving advice to my younger self, I’d say, “Do the opposite.”
Share a little more than you think you can sustain.
Not only will that help strengthen your creativity muscle. But staying out at the leading edge of your content ideas will help ensure that you can continue to evolve and reinvent yourself as the situation demands. Whether that’s because the industry changed, or because you find something you’re more interested in.
This game, of audience building and idea-sharing for money – it’s all about movement. You need to stay moving. Stay curious. Stay publishing.
As in life, stagnance is death.