3 Fatal Mistakes I Made in my First 30 Days on Substack

Start messy and learn

I admit it, I made a mistake.

But first, it’s important to differentiate mistakes from failure.

Failure carries a destructive emotional state. It tells you to stop, that you were wrong to try. A mistake, on the other hand, is a fundamental tool for learning and growing.

Mistakes are information, a constant source of learning that points you in the right direction.

The language of reality is action and discovery requires doing.

Which brings me back to my mistake, where I have to take a page from my own book and forgive myself for not having everything figured out from the start.

So learn from me:

• Allow yourself to start messy. Action, specifically through the process of trial and error, is necessary. Is how you find your path.

Intention without action is merely fantasy. Without taking that first step, I would still be living in my head, endlessly planning what this could be instead of writing, learning, and discovering what it needs to become.

Clarity comes after publishing, not before.

The Why

Deliberate practice requires feedback.

You can’t master a skill in isolation. You need reality to teach you what works and what doesn’t.

I started this publication because I want to write a book. But I’m not going to waste two years writing 70,000 words in private, only to discover no one cares.

Nicolas Cole calls it “Practice in Public.” Instead of guessing what readers want, you publish online, gather data in real-time, and let your audience show you what resonates.

For me, that means writing 800-1,000 word articles about the ideas I want to explore. Seeing what lands. Building something people actually want to read while I develop my voice and test my material.

If I write one article a week for 1–2 years, I’ll have enough material to turn into a book people will enjoy reading. Without the guesswork.

The Problem

Practice in public means paying attention to what resonates. Following other creators and seeing what works on the platform.

And there my friends, is where I went wrong.

The top creators on the platform were all selling the same idea:

“Escape your day job through online writing. Build an audience, monetize your knowledge, quit the 9-to-5.”

It’s not a bad idea. In fact, I think it’s one of the best paths available. But somewhere along the way, I started writing toward what was working for them instead of what I actually wanted to say.

I was chasing their audience instead of finding mine.

Niching Up

I’m a big believer in niching down. For most writers, it’s the smartest move you can make. Pick one problem, go deep, become the person people think of when they have that specific need.

But I realized I made a mistake.

I niched down to only a small part of the problem I actually want tackle.

Early Retirement Club sounds fine on the surface. But retirement is just one symptom of a much bigger issue. The inability of individuals to create their own destiny.

The real problem isn’t how to retire early. It’s why people spend decades trapped in work they hate, waiting for permission to live. It’s the systems that treat productive work as something to escape from rather than a source of meaning and dignity.

I want to write about why people feel stuck in systems they didn’t choose. About reclaiming agency over your work and life. About building something meaningful on your own terms in the information age.

So I’m niching up. Choosing a broader frame that encompasses everything I actually want to explore.

The Wrong Audience

Early Retirement Club attracted the wrong people.

The name pulled in retirees looking for side income. People who had already checked out and wanted a little extra cash in their golden years.

That’s not who I want to write for.

I want people who take action. People willing to work hard now to build a better future for themselves and the people they care about. People who see a problem and ask “what can I do about this?” instead of waiting for someone else to fix it.

But here’s my biggest mistake: I was selling prevention.

«Plan ahead. Build your freedom now so you don’t spend 40 years trapped.»

Humans don’t act on prevention. We don’t solve problems we might face later. We only act on pain we feel right now.

Early Retirement was a future promise, a solution to a problem most people don’t feel urgently enough to change their lives over.

I need to write for people who feel the pain today. People stuck in systems they didn’t choose, who want out now. People who refuse to wait decades for permission to live.

That requires speaking to the problem they’re experiencing in this moment, not the regret they’re trying to avoid down the line.

So those are the mistakes. And the lessons.

What can you learn from this?

• Start messy. Don’t wait until you have it all figured out. You won’t know what works until you put it out there and let reality teach you.

• Pay attention to who shows up. If you’re attracting the wrong audience, your message or your frame is off. Don’t ignore that.

• Be willing to pivot. Your first attempt won’t be perfect. Mine wasn’t. But that’s not failure. It’s information.

I’m rebranding. New name, broader scope, clearer mission. Same ideas, but finally aimed at the people who actually need them.