This morning, Patreon sent me their latest State of Create report. Interesting, but not exactly news. Creatives everywhere are battling algorithms—whether it's Facebook, YouTube, or any public platform. Growing an audience doesn’t always lead to more income, so the advice (no surprise) is to build a core group of dedicated fans on a platform you control. Naturally, Patreon recommends Patreon.
I have nothing against Patreon. I subscribe to a few creators there and enjoy the higher-quality content. But as someone who’s deeply explored the online creative world, I know how quickly it can become more about posting and promoting than creating. I didn’t want to be an online entertainer (YouTube) or teacher (Patreon), so I retreated to my own little corner—WordPress and Substack—and life immediately improved. Still, sometimes I feel like I’m drifting along the fringes, watching the digital creator ecosystem unfold from the sidelines.
But that report made me wonder: Maybe the fringes are where the good stuff happens.
Years ago, when I was considering biology as a major, I learned about transition zones—places where two ecosystems meet, like where a forest fades into a field or land meets water. These zones are full of species you won’t find in the core of either ecosystem. They thrive by adapting to both environments. And because these zones are unique, what grows there can’t be replicated elsewhere.
This got me thinking about a podcast I love—Andy J. Pizza’s Creative Pep Talk. Two ideas he emphasizes that have stuck with me are: First, own your platform, or at least the part of it that helps you reach your audience outside of that platform. Second, build your own creative path instead of copying someone else’s success model. Together, they create a kind of transition zone—the space between mainstream success and pure hobbyist.
I realized that my so-called backwater isn’t a stagnant place—it’s a backchannel, a hidden current where creativity flows freely, away from the noise of algorithms and trends. And I don’t think it’s a place where I’m alone. It must be full of people who are genuinely interested in what I do—either because they do it too or because it helps them in some way. Finding them is what I understand to be the definition of "finding the tribe." Only I don't want a huge tribe; I just want to find my fellow enthusiasts in this little online backwater of fantasy and sci-fi worldbuilding and writing.
That said, I’m still figuring out what works. Building connections outside the algorithm is a slow process, and some days, it feels like shouting into the void. But I’m learning that success doesn’t have to mean going viral or gaining thousands of followers. It’s about finding the people who genuinely resonate with what I create, even if it’s just a handful at first. Those connections are what make the effort worthwhile.
So, I’m rethinking my online approach. I want to experiment in this backchannel—trying everything from daily behind-the-scenes posts on Substack to short, insider-only videos on Patreon to physical zines and stickers left in places where my audience might find them. My first book is almost finished, and once it’s edited, I’d like to publish it. But no one will know it exists unless I start putting things out there.
I think of it like those floating lantern festivals—one lantern might go unnoticed, but a river full of lanterns is impossible to ignore. The challenge is finding the right current that will carry them to the people who need to see them.
I think it’s time to start setting out some lanterns and trust that my backchannel will lead them where they need to go.
