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While I share money-making strategies, nothing is "typical", and outcomes are based on each individual. There are no guarantees.
People ask me this all the time now: is Substack actually worth it?
And I want to give you the honest answer, not the cheerleader version. Because “is it worth it” is a real question with a real cost on the other side of it, and you deserve to know what you’re actually signing up for before you pour months into a thing.
So let me break it down the way I’d break it down for a friend who asked me over the kitchen counter. The good, the cost, and who it’s genuinely not for.
My short answer, then the long one
For me? It’s a no-brainer. Worth it, absolutely, hands down.
But I have to be careful handing you my “absolutely,” because my situation isn’t your situation. So let me tell you what makes it a no-brainer for me specifically, and then you can hold that up against your own life and decide.
It’s worth it for me because the cost is almost nothing and the upside has been real. The platform is free. I already know how to write. I already know how to spot what’s working and do more of it. So for me, Substack was a low-cost bet with a high ceiling, and that’s exactly the kind of bet I like to make.
Whether it’s a no-brainer for you depends on what writing costs you, what you’d be giving up to do it, and what you’re actually hoping to get. So let’s look at all three.
The real cost: it’s your time, and that’s it
Here’s the honest accounting of what Substack costs.
There’s no money cost. Substack is free. They take a cut when you make money, but you’re not paying to be there. So scratch money off the worry list.
The cost is your time and your willingness to show up. That’s the whole price tag. And I don’t want to wave that away like it’s nothing, because for a lot of people, consistent time is the hardest currency they have.
In my opinion, the time it takes to do this well is about three notes a day — those little social posts — plus one article a week. That’s it. That’s the rhythm. Three small things a day and one bigger thing a week. For me, that’s genuinely easy to fold into a day. I check in on my articles, I answer the comments that deserve answering, I keep the notes flowing. It doesn’t wreck my schedule.
But you have to be honest with yourself about whether you’ll actually do that, consistently, for months, through a slow start. Because the time cost isn’t one big payment. It’s a small payment, every day, for a long time. Some people can do that. Some people genuinely can’t, and there’s no shame in knowing which you are before you start.
Let me make the daily reality concrete, because “three notes and an article” can sound either trivial or terrifying depending on your relationship with writing. A note takes me a few minutes — it’s one true thought, typed out like I’m talking to a friend. Three of those across a day is not a heavy lift once you’re in the habit. The article is the bigger rock: an hour or two of real writing, once a week. So we’re talking maybe twenty, thirty minutes of notes spread through a day, plus a couple of focused hours on one day. That’s the actual shape of the commitment. Not a second job. But not nothing, either — and definitely not something you can do for one enthusiastic week and then abandon.
The upside: what four months actually produced
Now the other side of the ledger.
In four months, I went from zero paid subscribers to about $1,400 a month. The free list went from a handful to over five thousand. And I became a Substack bestseller along the way.
I want to be careful with that number, so let me be precise about it. The “annualized” figure on the dashboard looks bigger because Substack projects each subscriber’s payment across a full year. When I do the real math and divide it down, it’s roughly $1,473 a month, averaged over four months of actually charging.
Is that life-changing money on its own? Not yet. It’s not enough to live off of right now. But here’s why it still makes the worth-it column for me: the trajectory. If it holds and each quarter mirrors the first, it could be $5,000 a month by year’s end. Could be. I’ve seen people sitting at annualized six figures. I’ve seen one at a million. So the ceiling is real, even if my current number is modest.
A modest number with a real ceiling and almost no cost? That’s a yes for me.
Why it fits the way I build everything
Let me zoom out, because the “worth it” question isn’t just about Substack in isolation. It’s about whether it fits how you want your whole income to work.
I build my income in thirds, on purpose. I never want one client, one platform, or one partner holding the keys to whether I’m okay. I’ve lived the version where someone else controls the money, and I’m never going back to it. So when I look at a new thing, I’m not just asking “does this make money.” I’m asking “does this add another leg to the table so no single thing can knock it over.”
Substack passed that test. It’s a new, independent income stream that doesn’t depend on the others. That’s worth something to me beyond the dollars — it’s worth it in peace of mind.
That’s also why I can make these bets without losing sleep. When you’ve got a few legs under the table already, trying a new thing isn’t a bet-the-house move. It’s just adding another leg. I’ve made big moves before — I once bought two houses in six months when the right situation appeared — and the only reason I could move like that is because I’d built a base that could hold the weight. Substack is a small version of that same principle: low-risk addition to a diversified base.
Who Substack is genuinely NOT worth it for
I’m not going to pretend it’s right for everyone, because it isn’t, and you’ll trust my “yes” more if I’m honest about the “no.”
It’s probably not worth it for you if you hate writing and only want to do it for the money. The people who win here actually enjoy the act of sharing. If every note feels like pulling teeth, the daily cost will crush you long before the upside shows up.
It’s probably not worth it if you need money fast. This is not a fast-money thing. My first month was quiet. The growth came after I found my rhythm, and that took weeks of throwing spaghetti at the wall. If your rent is due next week, Substack is not your answer.
And it’s probably not worth it if you can’t be consistent right now. If your life is genuinely too full to put in three notes a day for months, that’s okay — but be honest about it instead of starting and stalling.
If none of those is you? Then I think you owe it to yourself to at least dabble.
So, is it worth it for you?
Here’s how I’d decide if I were you.
Add up the cost: do you have the time, the consistency, and at least some willingness to enjoy the writing? Add up the upside: are you okay with a slow start in exchange for a real ceiling and almost no money risk? And check the fit: would another independent income stream actually make your life feel steadier?
If those line up, go dabble. Play around with it. See if you could add a few hundred a month, maybe a few thousand, to whatever you’re already doing.
And the caveat I always give, because it’s true. There’s no guarantee. Nobody’s figures are the same as anybody else’s — not the niche, not the effort, not the timing. I’m telling you what it was worth to me, not promising what it’ll be worth to you. Your results depend on your niche, your effort, and a hundred individual factors I can’t see from here.
If you want the full setup before you decide — exactly how I run the notes, the articles, and the paywall — I put all of it in my Substack 101 guide. You can grab it here: https://loriballen.com/product/substack-101/
And if you want to judge “worth it” for yourself by actually reading the thing, come find me at The Real Time Creator on Substack. Read a few pieces, hit the paywall, and you’ll know in about ten minutes whether this is a world you’d want to build in.
Income disclaimer: I’m sharing my own results, which are not typical and not a guarantee of what you’ll earn. There’s no typical income, no guarantee, and no fast track. Your results depend on your niche, your effort, and a range of individual factors.
