Anyone There?

According to my site stats, November had over 53,000 views. September hit an all-time high of over a million. On paper, that looks encouraging. It makes you think, Hey, maybe I actually have an audience.

It’s part of why I launched the Substack newsletter, because I hoped the momentum here would carry over and help build a strong subscriber base right out of the gate.

But since launching in October, the newsletter has… 22 subscribers. Maybe one or two came from this site. Maybe none. A few views trickled over, but nothing close to what I crossed my fingers over.

My social accounts for the site and the podcast are also tiny: just over a hundred each, despite existing for years. This site gets fewer than ten comments a year. The podcast usually gets even less engagement, and the true gut punch is that I’ve only published five episodes this year and… it feels like no one noticed. No “Where’d you go?” No “Missed you!” No “Hey, everything okay?” Just silence.

People will read, or listen, or download, and then—poof—onto the next thing. Forgettable. Disposable. Lost in the infinite scroll.

That’s been the hardest part to swallow: despite having a decade-plus podcast, a version of this site since 2004, and what I believe is good work… everything I create seems to grow from scratch, at the pace of cold molasses. The stats say I have an audience. The engagement says I could vanish for six months and barely stir a whimper.

What does that mean?

My imposter syndrome feeds on this stuff like it is George "The Animal' Steele gnawing on a turnbuckle in the 1980s. My rejection sensitivity jumps in with a steel chair. And because I currently don’t have any recurring clients, the lack of response isn’t just an ego bruise—it becomes panic. It becomes, How am I going to bring in a few thousand dollars before Christmas? It becomes staring at the tip jar that remains empty since launch.

And yet…

I am grateful. Truly. I appreciate every reader, every client, every editor who has taken a chance on my work. I’ve received emails and messages from real, wonderful humans who have proven I’m not just shouting into the void. I know people are here. I know some get joy from what I make.

I also know I haven’t always been consistent. I’ve hyped projects that were delayed or stalled. I’ve dropped the ball while juggling life, neurodivergence, and mental health. So I’m trying not to beat myself up too hard about where things are right now.

Still, knowing there are real readers and actual humans who find entertainment, comfort, or joy in my work does give me motivation. Even a sliver of hope goes a long way.

So… I’m throwing this out there.

If you’re not a bot…

If you’ve been here more than once…
If anything I’ve made has ever given you a spark of joy or entertainment…

Please leave a comment.
Let me know I’m writing to real people out there.

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If you’d like to support my work, consider subscribing to my Life on the Balcony newsletter or tossing a few dollars in the tip jar via the Support Me badge or my Ko-fi page. Every bit helps in making sure I can create my best work.