Five reasons your personal essay newsletter isn't growing

It's time for an uncomfortable conversation.

You write. You hit publish. You wait.

Nothing happens.

Your subscriber count is frozen. Your open rates flatline. And you’re starting to wonder if anyone actually cares about your thoughts on grief, parenting, or that weird thing your neighbour did last Tuesday.

Here’s the truth: most personal essay newsletters fail. Period. Not because the writing is bad, but because the writer forgot that newsletters exist in a marketplace.

Let me show you where things usually fall apart (with some brutal honesty).

1. You’re not interesting enough

To your friends and family? Maybe. To everyone else in the world? Possibly not. Everyone has a story to tell, but not everyone has an audience for said story.

Your life doesn’t have to be extraordinary. You don’t need to climb Everest or survive a plane crash. But you do need to find the universal in your particular. If you’re writing about your divorce, what makes your take different from the other thousand divorce newsletters in my inbox?

The interesting part isn’t necessarily what happened to you. It’s how you think about what happened to you. Your job is to notice what others miss. To make connections between your Tuesday morning coffee and the nature of human longing. To be just weird or different enough that readers think ‘I’ve never heard anyone say it like that before.’

Many personal essayists are too safe. They write what sounds like essays instead of what actually burns in their chest. The result reads like a creative writing assignment, technically competent but forgettable within minutes.

2. You never promote your work

You published your essay. You felt vulnerable. You deserve subscribers to just... appear.

They won’t. Sorry.

Every newsletter with serious readership has one thing in common: the writer treats promotion like part of the job, not a necessary evil. They share their work on social media. They comment thoughtfully on other newsletters. They guest post. They collaborate. They send their best piece to friends and encourage them to forward it.

You don’t have to be shameless, but you do have to be consistent. Posting once to your 300 Twitter followers and giving up doesn’t count as promotion. You’re competing with professionals who spend half their time writing and half their time making sure people see what they actually wrote.

The best personal essayists build relationships as well as audiences. They reply to every comment. They thank people who share their work. They show up in communities where their ideal readers hang out. This takes hours every week, and yes, it feels awkward at first.

And no, you don’t have to do it. But if you want to grow? I’m afraid it’s all necessary.

3. The topics you write about are too random for readers to know what they’ll get

One week you write about your childhood in Cornwall. Next week it’s sourdough bread. Then a meditation on mortality. Then something about your cat.

Readers won’t commit to randomness.

They subscribe because they want more of something specific, even if that specific thing is ‘sharp observations about modern parenting’ or ‘essays that make me cry about ordinary moments.’ You need a recognisable frequency, not just a list of whatever crossed your mind this week.

Look at the newsletters that grow. They have a clear focus. Maybe it’s always about food and memory. Or always about being a woman in tech. Or always about books and grief. The topics can vary, but the sensibility stays consistent.

If a stranger asked what your newsletter is about, could you answer in one sentence? If you can’t, your readers definitely can’t. And confused readers don’t read, subscribe or stick around.

4. You’re lacking a strong personal brand

Everyone rolls their eyes at me when I say this. ‘Brand’ sounds corporate and gross, I get it. But in this case, it simply refers to what people think of when they think of you.

Right now, they probably think nothing.

Your newsletter name is generic. Your bio says “I write personal essays about life” which tells me zilch. Your social media presence is nonexistent. Nobody knows what you stand for or why they should care about your perspective specifically.

The essayists who break through have a clear identity. They’re ‘the one who writes about lived experience of chronic illness with dark humour’ or ‘the dad who makes you cry about baseball.’ They have real opinions. They have a consistent visual style. They show up as the same person everywhere.

This doesn’t mean you need to become a character. It means you need to get clear about your actual strengths and lean into them. Are you funny? Be funnier. Are you honest? Get more ruthless (which is what I’m attempting right now).

Whatever makes you you, turn that up.

5. Essays lack a clear voice

This is a killer.

You can fix random topics. You can learn promotion. But if your essays sound like they could have been written by anyone, you’re finished before you start.

Voice is more than just word choice. It’s the specific way you see the world. It’s the thoughts you have between the thoughts you were supposed to have. Most personal essayists write in what is commonly referred to as ‘MFA voice,’ a pleasant but forgettable style that sounds like every literary magazine you’ve ever skimmed.

Strong voice means making choices. Using fragments. Repeating words for emphasis. Saying things that can feel too honest.

If I covered up your byline, would someone who knows you recognise your writing? Would it sound unmistakably like you? If not, you might not have found your voice yet.

Fix these five things and your newsletter still might not go viral. But at least it’ll have a fighting chance.

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Want personal help growing your newsletter?

If you’ve ever wanted specific support with any aspect of developing or refining your Substack newsletter, I offer private, 1-2-1 coaching for Substack writers at all stages.

With these sessions writers are already finding clarity, with practical ideas to improve content, find readers and grow a paid income.

• Ready to go all-in? I offer a three-session package with three full months of email support.

• Already publishing? We can audit your setup, content, and strategy and give you a hyper-focused plan to boost growth or conversions.

• Just getting started? We can pressure-test your idea, review your positioning and tighten any launch plan.

Whatever support you need to help grow your newsletter, and whatever stage you’re at, I’m here to help. If you have any questions about these sessions, just hit reply and I’ll answer as soon as I see it.