80% Of Substackers Quit In Year 1
That's good news
A stat that’s both depressing and wildly encouraging:
80% of Substack writers quit within the first year.
That’s brutal. People show up, write a few heartfelt posts, stare at the blinking “0 new subscribers” notification, and disappear faster than a TikTok trend.
But, that’s good news for you.
No really, it is.
Because in a world obsessed with hacks, AI regurgitations, and the next 7-second dopamine hit, just sticking around can be an edge.
Most People Quit Before They Even Begin
Most new Substackers come in hot. Substack’s booming. It’s THE place to be if you're a writer, 2025.
But most are not prepared.
Week one: they drop a manifesto.
Week two: a vulnerable essay about imposter syndrome.
Week three: silence.
By week five, they’ve lost their mojo and probably their potential audience.
This isn’t to mock them. It happened to me when I first came here in 2021. Life happened. Creative energy runs dry. Subscriptions stay at 19 people—11 of whom are don’t open anything, and the rest don’t like what you write.
It’s easy to lose steam when the validation doesn’t arrive on schedule.
But here’s what they didn’t understand:
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Endurance Is Painful
There’s a reason why every post about success on Substack (or any other writing platform for that matter) is consistency.
Because consistency is a b*tch.
Endurance is painful. Unfortunately, Substack isn’t TikTok or YouTube… or OnlyFans. You’re not going viral on day one. Probably not on day 73, either, and maybe not even on day 324.
But virality isn’t what you need. You need velocity—the slow, steady kind.
Because here’s what happens when you publish consistently for “only” 6 months:
You get better at writing.
Your voice sharpens.
You attract people who like how you think.
You stop caring as much about unsubscribes.
You find your rhythm.
You create a system.
You know (a bit more) what you’re doing.
You can repurpose content.
And here’s what happens when you publish for a year, even without a massive audience:
You outlive 80% of your competition.
Imagine running a marathon and learning that 80% of the runners drop out at mile 5 because they didn’t like the vibes.
What Should You Do?
I don’t know. But I tell you what I did when I started (the second time):
Don’t try to post daily. Inboxes are full. People are busy. You’re not a tweet machine (unless it’s on Substack Notes). Pick a pace that feels like you could actually sustain it when your life falls apart for three weeks.
Make your content timeless. Trends are fun, but a thoughtful essay from six months ago should still be valuable today. I jump on trends from time to time, but the real beauty is that I can repurpose content from 4 years ago, because much of it hasn’t lost value.
Build for readers. A small, loyal audience that reads, replies, and cares is worth infinitely more than a bloated list of people who don’t open emails.
Talk like a person. Humans love humans… in general. AI can’t replace that.
Key Takeaway
Make your newsletter a place you’d want to hang out in—even if no one else shows up.
That’s it.
Write about weird things that make you curious. You don’t have to pick a niche. Sure, a niche might help readers know what they’re getting, and you’ll grow a bit faster. But if you give up because you won’t pick a niche, it’s definitely better to go nicheless, isn’t it?
When you enjoy the process, you don’t need to “push through”.
That kind of authenticity attracts people, too.
The Bottom Line
Twelve months from now, most of the people who launched their Substack with you will be gone.
You’ll still be here.
Typing. Publishing. Growing.
Sounds like a win to me.
Good advice! I actually write several articles a week but since I do not want to flood email inboxes, I just send out one content recap on Saturday.