Something’d hit me this week. And this is for you to think about too! For eight months I was writing for the wrong person. Me.
I published multiple resources about AI usage, some of my foundations and my background. What I did in the past, and how it affected when I’m here.
But is anything of that important to YOU?
I actually doubt it is. It was important for ME. To show I’m credible. That I’m engineer, and that I’m not a noob.
Why did I do that?
Partially, because I was unsure for WHOM I want to write. The only thing I knew is that I want to work with developers - because tech audienuce is one of the BEST possible out there. Not the easiest one - actually, very demanding one, but absolutely amazing in many, many ways.
That’s why I I leaned towards writing technical content - issues with vibecoding, ai setups and tools. That was safe. Same as writing some philosophical content - that shows where is my PoV and where I’m aiming for.
But that was for me too! Trying to figure out where this publication is heading. Almost none of that was for you.
And then, this week, I’ve finally asked the obvous question: what’s the point of writing technical content?.
To prove I’m engineer? - That’s the only thing I never need to prove to anybody, my whole life is a proof.
To attract developers? - Then I’ll attract developers who want to be better devs - not those building business.
Conclusion was simple: There is NO point.
And now I know more.
My numbers were saying this the whole time.
I just... wasn’t reading them.
Here are some stats from my dashboard.
141 notes published. That is not a typo - almost five notes per day.
Those 141 notes earned 2,482 impressions and 29 link clicks.
But here is the interesting part:
60% of those impressions was seen by people who already follow or subscribe to me. Only 40% of my reach was new.
On X I have 1,066 followers. Last time I measured the split, everything outside Substack combined - brought me about 3 subscribers in a month.
This sounds crazy, but I was just talking to the same room, just louder. I published 141 times and reached no new audience.
I was busy working on the wrong thing.
Who I am writing for.
I’m writing for Developers WHO wanna sell what they built.
There are people who are great at selling but stuck on the technical side. I’m not writing for them. I am not here to cover basics of setting up Claude Code or Cowork - there are other newsletters for that.
There are great developers too! And they’re dedicated only to climb the career ladder because of great job they have. I absolutely can understand this because I love my job too! BUT I’m not writing for them. They’ll get more great publications in The Pragmatic Engineer or other tech-oriented deep dives.
I’m here for subset of people.
I’m ASSUMING you can build. I’m assuming you build well - and you know you can.
AND I’m assuming there is a next step in front of you that has nothing to do with the code: distribution of what you just built. Getting somebody to pay for the thing you’ve just finished.
People who visit my profile want to solve the problem of distribution, not building.
They’re not all developers. What they share, though, is one sentence:
“I know the technical foundations, I build for a living, and now I want to sell this.”
The thing is that my precise, analytical and strategic thinking won’t resonate with a lot of people, and I know that technical audience is full of people who do get it - because this kind of thinking is a part of the job.
But if you want to just be better dev, and NOT interested in building side business, then this publication is not for you.
It’ll be
Technical
Focused on building financial freedom
Something I did not expect
A few days ago somebody hit the paid button on this newsletter. The first one ever. So I asked him why he did it.
It wasn’t a discount. It wasn’t a bonus. It wasn’t even a any of the publication I had listed on my website.
It was the one-line description of the publication - for developers who can ship but can’t sell - because he read it and thought: that’s me.
One sentence, put where a stranger could read it, did what 141 notes could not.
Now the part that’s actually about you
Let me ask you:
What are you even doing online right now!?
Are you in tech communities? “Build in public”, “Dev.to”? “Hacker News”?
But why? Are you providing dev career growth services, coaching juniors or building tools for teams? If not, that’s not your audience! That’s YOU.
You’re hanging in the room that you’re feeling comfortable, and calling it marketing.
If you have an app for accountants:
are you anywhere near Accounting communities?
Which newsletter does an accountant open on Monday morning?
Have you researched WHERE they read, who they follow?
What do THEY call the problem you solved? (Because I promise you they don’t call it what you call it.)
If you can’t answer those points, it doesn’t matter how good the build is. You’re shipping into an empty room and reading the silence as a product problem.
The product is fine. You’re in the wrong room.
And I know this because I just spent eight months making the same mistake, with better tooling and more discipline than most people bring to it.
If you can define for whom is your product for, then here is the next step.
What stops people from selling
Defining WHO your product is for is step one. Most people can do it if you push them a bit.
Step two is where everybody hangs out:
Where are they, and what exactly do you do to be in that room?
I could not answer that in April. I can answer it now, and it changed how I spend my time this week.
What I did about it.
Everything above is generic lesson from my last months. Below is the exact workflow I’m using to overcome the issue.
If you’re not going to subscribe, at least take the standalone version.
If you’re not going to subscribe, at least take the standalone version.
I packed the launch side of this - the 47-point checklist, the researched platform lists, the landing page copy, the prompt pack - into the Ship & Sell Starter Kit. $29. It’s what I wish somebody had handed me eight months ago instead of another “just build in public” thread.
Hey, some people NEVER learn!
I think I finally narrowed down my audience, but I am still not 100% sure how to phrase it.
Sebastian, “You’re hanging out in the room that feels comfortable and calling it marketing” really landed. It hit home. 💯
I stumbled onto Substack three months ago because a friend recommended it and started largely by thinking aloud. I needed that phase to clarify my own perspective.
But by week two, I could already feel the pressure to keep finding new topics while still wobbling around who my audience might be. My brain saw a hundred possible directions and wanted to explore all of them.
After six years in business, I recognised the shape of another potential time trap — and hit the brakes.
I anchored my content in my existing transformation system instead. It gives my writing a direction without stopping me from exploring, connecting with people and having fun here.
So I agree: writing that helps *you* understand what you think can be valuable. But it isn’t the same as writing that helps the right person recognise *their* problem.
The contrast between 141 Notes and one clear sentence is brutal — and brilliant. More content couldn’t solve a direction problem. Clarity did.
I wouldn’t call those eight months wasted, though. You mapped the long route so others can recognise it — and perhaps turn a little sooner. Thank you for sharing the numbers and the messy part so honestly.