GOODBYE, SUBSTACK.
Hello, Bear Blog.
Starting a Substack was a catalyst to write again. That was a great. Until it wasnât. Because Substack came with extras: A mobile app, their Notes feature, and an algorithm that pushes for monetization. All good things, right?
My goal with Substack was to encourage myself to write every Monday, no matter what. It worked at first. I was only using Substack on my browser, so I though downloading it to my phone would help me engage with the platform more.
The app felt empty and the navigation wasnât entirely clear. I didnât understand the point of Notes. It was their version of Twitter, but there wasnât much going on. I posted a few Notes myself just to try it out, but it didnât seem meaningful.
Then, I paid for my first subscription. Upon subscribing, youâre automatically subscribed to 5 other blogs that the blogger recommends. Suddenly, I became bombarded with notifications and my Notes page was filled with content from likeminded creators. What started as a casual, 10 minute scroll turned into what I wanted to avoid: The scroll of endless doom.
I denied it at first. âItâs not the same as Instagram!â I told myself. This was inspiring content. People wrote funny, witty things and shared images of delightful home decor, elegantly collaged journals, and moody analog photography. I felt like I was 15 again, living in suburbia and wanting more out of life.
Then came the holiday season. My feed became filled with an ungodly amount of gift guides, each boasting to be the ultimate one. Creators shared their extravagant dinner parties, complete with champagne towers, intricately decorated pies, and expensive outfits.
How did I end up here? I consoled myself again by stating it was all worth the one or two interesting articles I would discover from the feed. But my motivation dimmed and I began to feel the quiet dread of comparison.
In late November, as social events picked up, I told myself that I didnât have time to write. But one Monday, I remember thinking clearly, âI donât have anything to say. I shouldnât write for the sake of writing.â
Another week passed. I started to suspect that Substack wasnât good for me anymore. I put a 30 minute timer on it, but somehow, it still felt too long. After talking about this with some friends, I deleted the app from my phone.
The bear necessities Ęâ˘á´Ľâ˘Ę
During our annual Christmas video hangout, Vince asked if I had heard of Bear Blog dot Dev. I had not. âItâs like blogging back in the day,â he said*, âNo algorithms. No feed. Even the website is really basic.â
*I actually forgot what he said, but that was more or less it.
Since I just started my Substack journey, I felt reluctant to move. But I figured, why not check it out? I had planned to write a post about my holidays, so I decided to write on Bear Blog.
As a person who is motivated by nice-looking things, it frustrated me. I kept switching the themes AS I was writing, which wasnât great for my creative process. Bear Blog has some themes that look very dated (which is the whole point, the old school internet look), but with basic HTML and CSS you can customize the hell out of it.
Since I was getting too distracted, I finished my blog post on Substack and decided to give Bear Blog another shot the following day.
Well.
I ended up staying up until 3 AM. I couldnât stop customizing. I thought I would find the process tedious, but I forgot how much I enjoyed doing this stuff. This was my HOBBY as a teen, customizing my blogs with HTML and crying when it didnât work. But I didnât cry this time, because that was 20+ years ago and Iâve improved quite a bit.
In the following days, I have migrated all of my posts from Substack and customized it to my heartâs content. Itâs done, ready to be shared with the world. And Iâve learned a lot, not just about coding, but about the blogging community. It never went away. There are SO many amazing blogs out there, just hiding in plain sight, out of reach from the algorithms and newsfeeds that weâre so dependent on these days.
I found an amazing blog while searching for coding help. Some guy out there is making cool music and jaw-droppingly awesome Bear Blog templates. He has a guestbook so people who randomly stumble upon his corner of the internet can say hi.
âHow do I save his blog?â I wondered frantically. âHow will I know when he posts something new?!â I am unfamiliar with RSS feeds and how they work. Iâve never used them, even in my youth.
It dawned on me that algorithms and newsfeeds have robbed my ability to search, discover, and explore. The internet used to be so much fun.
So, like I said, Iâm moving. At first I thought I was going to trial Bear Blog for a bit, that this might not be a permanent goodbye, more like a âSee ya later, Substack!â
But no. THIS IS IT. My blog is my corner of the internet. And guess what? I couldnât stop writing for three days straight. I had so much to say. Because itâs my world. My rules. Everything I want to say matters.
And to my five loyal subscribers: Bear Blog, being the old-school blogging platform that it is, does not send my posts direct to email! Nope, youâll be getting old-fashioned NEWSLETTERS written by yours truly, instead! Iâll be sending them out once a month with my latest posts.
Welcome to Pretend Typewriter.
Cross-posting this from Substack, hence the "repeat" image.
Bookmark it and check it back once in a few days, like we did back in the day. I donât want to go overboard on here (because I have so many other things I need to do!), but since itâs new I have a hard time keeping my hands off of it.
Oh, thereâs also no commenting feature either, as the creator of Bear Blog believes that comments arenât the most meaningful way to engage with the blogger and suggests directly emailing them instead. And since most of you are my friends, just Whatsapp me or something if you want to reply to a post!
However, I will consider adding a commenting feature if there is a demand for one (lol), because I found the comments on Substack to be very meaningful from you, my dear reader. :)
Alright, Peige out. See you in my neck of the woods. âď¸