Originally published as a Advisory Hour Substack post on 2026-07-14. This first-party site copy preserves the text, localizes public supporting media, and connects the record to its project trail.
Original post
Writing on substack is a different medium.
It’s not quite email, nor a blog, and certainly not TwitterX. I didn’t even intend to be a substack writer. It was just “oh, I’ve heard of substack let’s add that to the list.” And then it’s like that moment when you get inducted into a cult and you’re still hanging around after six months. “What do you mean we’re out of Fez hats? I can’t possibly write another post without one!”
Can’t even say I had great intentions of being a writer here. It was all in service of a competition that awarded a few extra points if you posted online to a social site. I just assumed I’d have a throw away account that I’d dispose of and forget about it after the competition. I even assumed my handle @advisoryhour would be just a curiosity for the digital rot of some bygone era. Turns out that’s eternal now, and I’m a little miffed at chat about this one.
The advisoryhour handle was picked because maybe I signed up for substack some years ago, with an email that I no longer recall, and simply couldn’t do the common-sense thing of “having a substack in my name”. ChatGPT was handy. The little artificial voice commented on my predicament, “Just roll with AdvisoryHour, as you’re doing that anyway.” This made terrific sense before the internet began linking back to me.
As I prepared to write this post I took note that if I changed the handle, then suddenly I break and disrupt an impressive number of internet links rolling back into my substack. This brought me back to Chat for some clarity and insight from a machine that has averaged out the advice of everyone on Reddit.
“Hey ChatGPT?”
“Yes?”
”There’s now thousands of links pointing back to my substack. Can I change my handle to something closer to my name?”
“If you do all those links break.”
“Oh so I’m.. that’s a bad thing, chat. You mean all the inbound links break?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t warn me about that…”
“You’re absolutely right-also, you didn’t ask?”
“I… ugh.”
“Glad I could help!”
Sigh. AI, right?
I came to substack because of the first competition I hosted around AI. And then, I did a second. When I first started substack, I’ll admit that I used more AI than human words-and I’ve changed. I explained why I made this change. It’s not about you, the reader. It’s about me-better writing leads to better results. Turns out, this applies to magnificent extremes in a world of AI.
If you let AI do all the writing, did you really do anything? It’s not a question I feel has a verifiable answer of correctness. I have my opinion, which is why I write these posts by hand. Even if they aren’t great to read, they’re still my words. The images are most likely AI. I do, after all, only have so much time in the day.
I read a lot and if you think an avid reader ought to have better writing skills? Yeah, add it to the list. I know all about it. I hear the whispers if you read a lot that your writing improves. Perhaps? Perhaps it does. Or perhaps that’s a special miracle that’s only gifted if you stand outside in your undies on a Thursday.
You certainly couldn’t tell by my writing that I’m either a reader or a writer. The words that grace these digital pages are a circus act that found its way to the bar. I couldn’t even begin to tell you what the trapeze artist is doing in the back corner, and the strong man is slamming down several kegs’ worth of the seasonal ale challenge. It’s a work in progress, and the show is still to come.
When I noticed I crossed 100 posts on substack, well, it surprised me. I’d forgotten about it. If you put yourself in my shoes, it’s a strange thing. I remember writing 10 full on posts-I remember the sun shining thru the windows as angels played a piano. Those ten posts were a BIG deal for me. “OMG, I’m writing online!” Now I’m old and my hands are too familiar with each key on the keyboard. If you asked about life at 100 posts I’d just shrug? “I’m debating how to sneak a story about a circus act into this article, what do you need?”
The show changes, even if it’s the same circus act.
I can see getting to 200 posts now-two hundred. Maybe I’ll buy a cake. It’s an easy excuse, and I’m the kind of person where any excuse to buy a cake with some “I did this amazing new thing” has landed me on a first name basis with the baker at the grocery store. You should try it. Live life, it’s a short ride after all.
200 posts of mostly well-written paragraphs, and the oddball poem. Well, I’m not there yet. The reflection at just over a 100 is still just as unreal for me.
If you had asked me in the beginning of this year if I’d cross 100, or even 200 articles I’d have laughed as I gently escorted you out of my house, off my property, and into the oncoming traffic on my street. Well, when this post goes live-that anxiety inducing act of mere pixels getting flipped from off to on-I’ll be much closer to 200 than 10, that much I know.
Most of what I post are my little experiments and projects. If you’ve not read my substack before, well, it’s just an enormous body of research as I run experiments. I have the great luxory of “what experiment do I run today” as the most glaring problem in my life. Oh, and possibly what colored frosting for the cake.
The substack sometimes widens in what I post and it’s because I hold these challenges. I like a good bit of rivalry to boil the blood. Plus, everyone tells me they learned valuable things that they use in their day to day. So it’s more little way of contributing to the advancement of civilization.
When I host a competition, it gets a little busy in my posts. A fewer number of experiments, and a wider number of other stuff. I post administrative updates, my own entries, and muse on what others have done. There’s a lingering curiosity that I have on what life will be like at 200 posts, or if I’ll even notice. You should write, too. It doesn’t have to be grand, or great, and you can rest assured you’ll largely be ignored by substack’s algorithm. That’s ok. I don’t need the spotlight with these posts. They’re just little breadcrumbs as I make sense of the strange life that I’m living thru, just like you.
If you’re just getting started on substack, the only advice I have is to stay clear of the yellow Kool-Aid and to make sure you write your name in your Fez hat. Also, ignore everyone and just write and click that ‘continue’ button in the upper right of the article. Then, log back on later and when you find yourself at a place you can’t possibly write anymore? Write some more.
That’s all there is. Welcome to the circus. Watch out for the trapeze group in the corner. Don’t drink the yellow Kool-Aid and if you see my hat somewhere, let me know.
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OK, it’s not quite true. I did learn a few things.
Go back and read your posts on a second day other than the day you wrote them. It’ll be the hardest thing you’ve ever done. You’ve done harder.
Use the schedule feature. Do not fall into the trap of posting content the same day you write it. Do not, for the love, start that hamster wheel. It is a path of regret.
Only use AI if you hit a wall in your writing. Avoid it. You can’t grow as a writer if AI is doing the writing.
Read more, just not online. Go read books. Ideally books before 2022. Read outside your genre. Read inside your genre. Read upside down. Read while running naked thru a gas station-scratch this one.
Your perfect substack post will likely be seen by like 10 people. Get over it and post again. It’s not about substack, it’s not about the content, it’s about writing.