Since I moved this newsletter from Substack in the spring of 2025, I’ve been asked a bunch of times if I regret the change. The short answer to that question is no. The long answer is why I thought I should address this topic again here. 

There were a bunch of reasons for leaving. For the most part, I found the format increasingly distasteful and annoying. I can’t stand Notes—its proprietary social media extension—and the way the platform rewards engagement with it. They want to disrupt the write something + share it on other social media channels = engagement model by turning Substack into a one-stop content mall with no exits (which is basically what a casino is, but with gambling, although I’m sure Substack has that too). 

But then Substack started burying the works of creators who don’t use it very much, or don’t take advantage of their messaging component enough. Not only are people on Substack writing newsletters that are delivered to the inboxes of subscribers; now there’s the pressure to host group chats. 

It’s too much noise. I just want to write something and send it out! 

But the other bit is that Substack started increasing their creator fees (you can’t make shit on Substack for free, no matter how much or how little shit you make), and if they accept paid subscribers (who doesn’t?), a chunk of that goes to the third party banking service as well. 

Of course, this is just how things work these days. Online creativity has a price, whether that’s Substack, Spotify, or other streams. In that respect, it’s not much better anywhere else. 

However, the main reason I left is because every time I published something, I felt icky, like I’d just walked through a cobweb on a hot day. 

“Let’s hurry. There is nothing to fear here,” says Satipo (Alfred Molina) in the opening scene of Raiders of the Lost Ark. 

“That’s what scares me,” replies Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford). 

This exchange happens in a spooky jungle cave on a quest for an ancient idol, moments after brushing tarantulas off each other’s shoulders and navigating booby traps that flung the speared, decaying corpses of those with less finesse in avoiding them in their path. When Indie thinks he outwitted the clever idol-keepers and creatively maneuvers the gold statue off its pedestal, they suddenly have to outrun a giant boulder. 

Privately, I’ve been having conversations about the pros and cons of various tech platforms. The exhausting and dismaying takeaway is we’re all living with creepy-crawly tarantulas on our backs. If you’re reading this, in some way, whether it’s the device you’re using to read it on or the email server or search engine that brought you to it—you made the choice to brush them off your shoulders or give in to the fear of them. 

Terrible people who monetarily enable other terrible people make the machines made in terrible ways, and we can’t really get away with not using them. And there’s a whole, “the beaches are open and everyone is having a wonderful time” (I swear I didn’t mean to use this many Spielberg analogies) attitude shared by the terrible people. They just want money and don’t care who gives it to them or what they’ll use their platform to say and do. 

Some creators have taken a stand and refused to share their work on these platforms for moralistic reasons. But it’s a form of protest hardly anyone notices until they can’t find someone’s music or reels or essays, etc. and get pissed off about it instead of trying to understand the rationale for their chosen artist boycotting the app. App cancellation politics can only be afforded to those who don’t need that app as a revenue stream. 

I get why people stay on Substack, especially if they were on the ground floor, amassed a substantial following, and the platform setup with the likes and engagement incentive ecosystem works for them. The media landscape changes everyday now. Monday, people I know who write for New York Magazine proudly didn’t work for Murdochs and by Wednesday they did (also, I am still trying to comprehend the whole Everlane selling to SHEIN thing, but that’s another pin in the hem). What I don’t get is why anyone starts on Substack now when there are better, less crowded alternatives than there were a few years ago. 

I left Substack because it felt like the right thing to do. I wasn’t happy at Substack, felt like I was constantly competing with other creators, and most importantly I didn’t feel like myself. At the time it was the equivalent of shifting a few boxes of my most precious possessions in a station wagon and driving a couple of hours to new digs vs. packing up and moving the contents of a whole multilevel house over international waters. Budgetwise, Buttondown is perfect for me but it can be a bit clunky. There’s no sexy “like” system and it’s not as easy to engage with. I lost followers either because they didn’t appreciate the forced migration or don’t like/understand the new neighborhood. I get it. 

There’s a chance I might move again. The Buttondown support staff have been exceptional but my website amandaschuster.com is on Squarespace and makes sense to just have all my stuff in one place instead of a virtual home and separate studio setup as it is now. I’m weighing the options. I promise I will give you ample warning if it happens. 

Thanks to everyone who’s stuck with me so far and my extra loyal followers who continue a paid subscription (which I still very much need despite my choice not to be on Substack)! There will be more to say. I love to write and I so appreciate the support from my small, but mighty group. 

Before I go, I want to give a massive shout out to all the Tales of the Cocktail Spirited Awards Best Cocktail & Spirits Writing nominees. This is a fantastic list. Big mazel! 

Until next time,

Amanda