42 substack thoughts and prayers

Weirdness is such a gift, and I'm so glad it brought us together. Amen.

From getting hate for critiquing Oppenheimer to finding my community in the likes of The Leftovers stans and women who’ve also watched the Snyder Cut hundreds of times, the internet has taught me tons about how to be a better writer, grow an audience, and maybe make a career out of film criticism (one day!).

I wrote my ass off on Substack last year. Thanks to you, I ended the year with almost 5,000 subscribers, regular spots on the global leaderboards for film & tv, and a body full of reminders that being vulnerable on paper is revolution, not just a pipe dream for aspiring writers.

I’m getting a lot of emails and messages from people who want to give a newsletter and/or culture criticism a go on here so I thought why not brain dump what I’ve learned in a full issue?

So here it goes ✨

42 substack thoughts and prayers

1. The blessing and curse of Substack is that it’s just you. Every week, the lights go out at That Final Scene HQ and it’s just me sitting in my big, dark, empty office room writing a newsletter by myself. No one to share the workload, no one to bounce ideas off of, no one to talk about Jeff Goldblum with. But also…no one to share the workload, no one to bounce ideas off of, no one to talk about Jeff Goldblum with.

2. Your voice matters so much more than your format does. People will often choose voice over visuals, voice over consistency, voice over hot takes or controversy if it’s UNIQUE. If there’s something they’d rather be reading or watching instead they will go do that (trust me — we’ve seen how fast AI parodies came and went). However if they resonate with your specific perspective filtered through whatever character you decide plays out through these pixels (in my case Selena Gomez from Only Murders In The Building) they will keep coming back.

3. Finding your voice takes practice — and sometimes a lot of swearing! For me personally, writing about culture came as naturally as breathing; learning how to do so with humor & heart took time. In those early months whenever someone told me my voice reminded them of theirs or another writer they loved, it felt like code for “you don’t have your own voice yet.” However after having read through my archives recently with fresh eyes it became clear: every single time I gave myself permission to swear or make fun of someone or something people paid attention…and boy did that feel good.

4. Be kind to other writers! It goes such a long way to rallying support for your work.

5. Your weirdness is your winning streak. The internet is filled with homogeneity. It is digitally optimized for boring people. In a sea of beige, my newsletter welcomes kooky perspectives. Write like you’re only allowed to make three more pieces before disappearing forever…because you might be! Give your readers permission to be just as weird.

6. Your audience wants you to take yourself seriously: The more I experimented with coverage of awards season, press tours and other serious industry news, the more my readers embraced it and wanted even more (they also want me to keep making Tarantino jokes).

7. Write like no one is reading because they usually aren’t. I’m joking (kinda), but seriously: when you’re just starting out on Substack, no one is seeing your work except your existing friends and family. Take advantage of that. Write the pieces that excite you and help you hone your voice as a writer without worrying too much about what others will think.

8. I pray for thine protection over my open rate. I thank you for every 40-something, 50-something, and dare I say it, 60-something open rate that has graced my account.
   I plead forgiveness for the subject line typo, for the hastily sent email late on a Tuesday night, for the "this is not for everyone" reader I invited into my fold to unsubscribe. Deliver me from the "this is not for everyone" reader, oh Open Rate, and preserve me always in the graciousness of thine embrace. Amen.

   

9. Write the post that only you can write. It sounds cheesy but this is really important! There are certain things that happen in the film/tv world where every single substack/letter/bulletin writer is going to be covering it e.g. One Battle After Another. Instead of trying to write something better than everyone else (impossible), focus on making sure your unique voice shines through — think of it as an opportunity to speak to your community. Here’s what I wrote on the film instead.

10. Not everyone will want to give you money for your work, especially if you write words that are not conventionally “educational” or don’t include “resources”. Most of the best sellers in my vertical provide (incredible) advice, tips, news, guides and how-tos. This is something I can’t do because I’m not a traditional expert. But there is also power in unique perspectives and your work will resonate with people without intersectional frameworks around it.

11. Consistency builds credibility but don’t underestimate pushing yourself a little outside of your comfort zone!

12. Newsletters aren’t what you think they are. Nobody actually wants to subscribe to a “community” of “people like them,” but they will subscribe if they think you’re funny or interesting.

13. I say this all the time: Your newsletter is not a business unless you want it to be. As a Substack creator, sadly, you are a content creator, and as a Substack editor, you are a content editor. Build your newsletter the way you would build a content business, not the way you would build a tech startup or an app.

14. Don’t feel like you need to keep pace with the world’s attempts to move away from what people want on this platform: letters of any alphabet.

15. Don’t quit your day job, because you’re not going to get rich from Substack, but also don’t be afraid to think of your newsletter as something other than a passion project. But I will stop saying this as soon as Substack fixes their search function.

16. Musings are mid, analysis is superior for conversion. Long-form think pieces and articles are where the magic happens (for me). You’ll learn pretty quickly what works best for your writing — check your stats regularly!

17. People engage with vulnerability the deepest. The most successful pieces from this past year were the ones where I really opened up — which was scary and hard — whether it was talking about my family situation during the 2008 financial crisis through the lens of Margin Call, working through my grief over losing my grandpa from dementia with films about dementia, or sharing my personal struggles with ADHD through the lens of Letterboxd logging.

18. Writing film criticism on Substack is one of the only places (besides maybe Letterboxd) where using the phrase “middlebrow” isn’t considered an instant death sentence.

19. Film criticism might not always pay the bills, but it makes them up with abundance in other ways. Long live Filmstack!

20. Building a newsletter is all about building relationships — both between you and your readers, but also among your readers themselves. That Final Scene is now home to a wonderfully smart and funny group of people who regularly join the TFS Chat to talk about the latest films/tv shows or react to industry news (are y’all in our Oscars thread?). It feels like more than just a newsletter (though we do love talking about movies) because it’s genuinely a community of people who care about each other.

21. Oh Substack Gods, who are most likely Chris Best and Hamish McKenzie, I come to you with my exceedingly small problems in hand. I pray of you to protect my subscriber count from the prying eyes of my cyberstalkers, my exes, my old bosses who hated me and are probably still in prison for insider trading. Trust me, I see them. Remind me regularly that I am small, that I am mighty, and that even if my writing goes unread I will forever have an incredibly dedicated 4,740 people who show up for me every week. And when I inevitably away from my keyboard and succumb to the pressures of the Stacks, forgive me for my failures and my absences. Amen.

    

22. Writing consistently doesn’t mean ignoring the rest of your life — in fact, it means including it more! It can be easy when trying to build an audience to feel like you need to only write about your “niche,” but don’t be afraid to include your day-to-day, big life events, or what kind of takeout you had yesterday. I want to know.

23. Film criticism isn’t dead, but it is changing rapidly…so we’d better evolve with it (aka, have you subscribed to The Treatment yet?).

24. Put just as much thought into your subject lines as you do into your main body text. Subject lines are everything — that’s what encourages people to open your email over the hundreds of others in their inbox. Pay attention to what works (or doesn’t) for you when you receive newsletters from other writers on Substack.

25. Invest in yourself! I turned on paid subscriptions on That Final Scene almost right away and dozens of you signed up almost immediately! It means the world to me that so many of you believe in what I do here enough to support it with your hard earned cash (thank you thank you thank you). Investing in yourself can feel scary at first. But trust me: if you believe in what you’re creating, others will too.

26. Don’t be afraid to speak your truth on the platform — even if it’s unpopular! If there’s anything I learned from going viral for my Jeremy Strong x Kieran Culkin piece it’s that people appreciate honesty even when they don’t agree with you.

27. You don’t have to niche down…unless you want to: One of my hesitations about Substack was that I didn’t want to be pigeonholed as only a film writer or only a pop culture writer, but I quickly realized that this platform works best when you embrace your own eclecticism (and so many of my favorite Substack writers do this).

28. If your newsletter is about pop culture, it should not be in the “culture” category. Put that shit in “humor” or whatever else feels more real to you. You can still be smart and give incisive cultural commentary — but if it’s funny, lean into it. That’s what people want.

29. Writing for women specifically is profitable, especially if you don’t hate women (it’s amazing how rare that is). The minute I stopped caring about attracting a specific audience and started thinking, “what would my mom and aunt find interesting?” paid subscriptions went up.

30. Trust your instincts. When I started, people told me to write film reviews — after all, that’s the format that everyone has always known. But here’s the thing: while I love writing about film at least as much as anyone else does, there are other things I’m passionate about too (like how the internet fries up our brain daily????). So don’t be afraid to mix genres every once in awhile; after all, it’s YOUR newsletter.

31. As someone who’s started getting offers from brands and publications that want to partner with me on their newsletters/websites (and sponsors that want me to talk about their products), not all money is good money.

32. Bring your readers to your lore! Most newsletters encourage you to send in questions or thoughts but leave it at that; very rarely do those voices get published within the newsletter itself. I wanted TFS to be different by including reader questions/thoughts as often as I could so it feels more like a conversation where everyone has a voice and more opportunities for people who may not have one otherwise. TFS Hotline is now a monthly segment.

33. Find your stickiness factor. For some people it’s an advice column or pop culture analysis piece; for others it’s humor or snarkiness. For me? It’s usually rabbit holes and “what ifs” — whether that’s taking a bizarre internet trend too far or imagining Hollywood movies in ways they’ve never been imagined before.

34. The best thing you can do for your writing is read other people’s writing. (And pay them!) One of my biggest goals this year was to read as much as possible from other Substack writers, whether it was newsletters I subscribed to regularly or ones that popped up on my discovery feed. Not only did it give me new material to promote every week, it also made me realize how much room there is for unique voices on the platform.

35. Substack “gurus” are bad at giving advice. This is true about pretty much every aspect of life, but it’s especially true in writing spaces. My readers love me, and those who don’t, don’t deserve me. Like, sorry that I can read the subtext of American Pie II without a PhD.

36. At the heart of all the “tips and tricks and tactics” is the idea that you have to be relentlessly marketing your job. It’s exhausting, it doesn’t scale, and most importantly, it’s not what I want most people to know about me or what I do. Don’t do that. When I’m asking people to subscribe to my Substack, I’m not just asking them to support me, I’m also asking them to go along with my vision for how I want to contribute to the conversation, and that’s a big ask.

37. Don’t be afraid to ask for help…especially if you’re a woman. I know it’s hard when you’re stubbornly independent like me, but one thing I learned in my early days is that women are often told they have to do everything alone and try to prove how capable they are as a result. Finding other women on Substack was imperative for me — I see you all and appreciate you. Also let me know if I can help 🫶🏻

38. Oh Email Gods, who are diverse across all digital platforms but converge in your devoted hate of me when I'm most vulnerable, I beg of you to have mercy on my open rates. I fear you, more than I fear the trolls, more than I fear unsubscribes in bulk, more than I fear the dreaded spam folder. I pray that you do not laugh too hard at this troglodytic request that surely isn't worthy of your time. But alas, as I have learned over endless Mondays: you are the most powerful force of all. Amen.

    

39. Sticking to your principles pays off and will make sure you don’t burn out. I never considered making That Final Scene an exclusively paid-only newsletter, because I genuinely believe that film & tv criticism should be accessible for everyone across socio-economic lines — especially considering how many people use it as an escape from their daily lives (including myself). In turn, I’ve made much less money than I could have but sticking strongly to what inspired me to start TFS means that integrity has not been an issue.

40. It’s only perfect if it’s working for you. It took me a while to realize this but sometimes I’d put a ton of work into perfecting something and then have it flop entirely. Meanwhile there were pieces I thought would be mediocre but ended up resonating with readers much more than anything else. That taught me that at the end of the day the best issue is the one your people respond to — not the one that looks best in your main.

41. If you write a newsletter on Substack that has even a modicum of success, you will inevitably feel pressure to add a (video) podcast. That said, you are not Serial or Smartless or Maintenance Phase or A Bit Fruity. You are not The Daily. You are not Joe Rogan, whose podcast is barely a podcast. This is your gentle “you are under no obligation” nudge — said with love, and said with experience. Only start a podcast if you can protect your mental space.

42. Hit ‘send’ already! As someone who previously struggled with insecurity around being too “online”, getting over that fear and hitting send helped me form such a tight bond with my audience. Start asking yourself: are you really curating this space for other people or are you curating it for yourself?

Dear God, Josh Hartnett, Substack Papa,

thank you for the readers who open every email (including this one)

the loyalists who never once considered hitting unsubscribe,

and the ones who know that I’m talking about them

and are stroking their chins with delight.

Bless the readers who like that I’m kind of wacky and messy and neurodivergent,

who send me DMs asking how I’m doing because

they can tell from the tone of my writing that I’m a little off.

Mercy for the ones who love Hartnett’s eyebrows as much as me,

and those who trust and understand the power of my long-ass essays.

Finally, thank you to the readers who would not want to be friends with me IRL,

but think I would be a hilarious and interesting choice for their email bestie.

I know you don’t pick favorites and I try not to either,

but I picture these readers when I pray for The Ones,

the ones who always, without fail, show up for me.

Amen

Want to be featured on That Final Scene and win a 3-month membership?

I’m always on the hunt for your confessions as part of my Reader Hotline.

You share your most revealing, weird, or controversial takes on films and TV.

I respond and my readers chime in. Think of it as therapy, but I’m not licensed and your thoughts might end up on the internet.

Here’s what I’m looking for:

• Plot armor: The show or film that got you through a difficult time.

• Spicy take: Your most controversial film opinion that you’ll defend with your life.

• Reality check: The film or show that completely rewired your worldview.

• Triggered: When something on screen or in the theater hit you unexpectedly hard.

Send your confessions to sophie@thatfinalscene.com or record your voice message on the link below. Everyone who submits gets a 3-month free membership extension, whether I use your story or not. See you in the confessional.