Write2Lead Report #2
What’s Evolving in My Writing—and a Few Growth Lessons
This is the second email in my “report series,” where I take you behind the scenes of how I’m building my writing practice — what I’m trying, what’s changing, and what I’m learning along the way.
If you missed the first report, you can read it here. My hope is that these updates give you a clearer sense of what it actually takes to build a writing project like this.
Today’s report is split into two parts:
Writing
Growth
Let’s dive in.
Writing
The Why
With every piece I write, and every conversation with readers, the Why behind this project sharpens a little more.
Its core doesn’t really change, but with time it gains texture — as if I’m getting closer to what’s true.
In the last report, I mentioned that my Why has shifted from a statement to a question. That part hasn’t changed.
What has changed is the question itself.
Last month it was:
How can thoughtful writers find their voice online and create meaningful impact with their writing?
That still matters to me, but lately I’ve been thinking more about the opposite force: the thing that pulls writers away from their voice, the thing that dilutes impact before it even has a chance to form.
And I keep coming back to the same answer: performance.
So much of modern life is framed through the lens of performance:
Action = Productivity
Self-Worth = Applause
Value = Metrics
And the environments surrounding us — social media, workplaces, cultural narratives — are built to reinforce that lens.
So my Why has been evolving to sit right inside that tension — and right now, it sounds like this:
How can thoughtful writers uncover their real creative voice in a culture obsessed with performance?
And this question has been at the core of every topic I choose to cover.
Writing Space
One thing I’ve noticed about my writing practice is that I almost always end up on the living room couch instead of in my office.
On paper, the office should be the obvious choice: a great chair, a big curved monitor, a proper desk. But it’s also where I spent the last few years working as a CMO for the project I’m leaving at the end of this year. I didn’t realize it at first, but the space still carries the emotional residue of that chapter. My brain associates it with meetings, deadlines, decisions — not with imagination or curiosity.
So without thinking about it, I started treating the couch as my creative refuge. Now, whenever I sit down to write, there’s almost a gravitational pull toward that corner of the living room.
But long term, this isn’t sustainable. My back is beginning to complain, and a large monitor is undeniably useful for writing — especially when I need research and drafts side by side.
So I asked my wife to help me reimagine the office into a space I actually want to write from — something warmer, more personal, more inspiring. A place that feels like the next chapter rather than the last one.
Over the next few months, I’ll be rebuilding my writing sanctuary and keep you updated on how it evolves (and I may even share a photo or two).
Writing Process
One of my priorities moving into 2026 is to keep developing my Notion Workstation.
The structure is still built around three core sections:
Resource Library: where I collect external sources — books, articles, videos, podcasts — connected to the ideas I’m exploring.
Knowledge Vault: where I store my own insights, plus anything distilled from those resources.
Writing: a pipeline divided into idea capture, drafts in progress, and published pieces.
This past month, I spent more time refining the Writing section — specifically, the research stage.
Until recently, I would gather everything and dump it straight into the first draft. Not ideal, but somehow it worked for the first six months.
Creating a dedicated Research tab brought a level of clarity I didn’t realize was missing. Giving research its own place instantly made the step feel intentional — something to invest in rather than rush through.
The difference already shows in the work. My recent piece, Why Discipline Feels So Hard, sparked some of the most thoughtful conversations I’ve had with readers.
The next improvement will be building a triage system inside the Research tab — a way to filter, rank, and highlight the strongest material from the initial pile. I’ll keep you posted as that takes shape.
The only “drawback” that I can report for now, is that with the more research, the more I feel the tension of leaving things out. When you see everything laid out in front of you, you can easily imagine adding another thousand — or two thousand — words to the piece. The Discipline essay, for instance, could have easily doubled in length.
But that’s part of the process. Progress requires choosing your tradeoffs, and right now, maintaining a weekly publishing rhythm matters more than covering everything.
AI Research
The last time my mom came to visit me (she lives across the ocean), we had this running joke: no matter what she told me, I’d ask her for the source.
The first time it happened was when she claimed that Rio de Janeiro had been ranked the number-three city in the world to visit. When I asked where she got that from, she pointed me to a blog from a Brazilian travel agency. Sorry, mom—but you’re the one who taught me to question everything.
Lately, I’ve been using AI a lot more in my research process. But I use it the same way I questioned my mom’s travel facts: as a discovery tool, not as a definitive source of truth.
We can debate endlessly about the broader implications of AI—good, bad, or somewhere in between. What’s undeniable is that it is a powerful tool. And like any tool, it comes with strengths, weaknesses, and blind spots.
It hallucinates. It overinterprets. It pulls from questionable sources. If you understand that going in, you can design how you engage with it. You can stop asking it to be something it isn’t and start using it for what it’s genuinely good at.
In research, I’ve found that ChatGPT shines when I’m in discovery mode—when I’m circling a topic, and exploring the questions that naturally surface.
For example, I’m currently writing a piece on the idea of “follow your curiosity.” So I start with broad, exploratory prompts:
Who are the people throughout history known for their unusually strong curiosity?
How did curiosity shape their work?
Are there people who simply aren’t curious?
What about the ones who seem curious about everything?
Is curiosity innate, or can it be cultivated?
The amount of raw material you get back from these questions still surprises me. It’s not polished or complete, and it’s certainly not the final word on anything. But it gives me something invaluable: direction.
Once I have that, my real job begins. I go deeper. I challenge the model with harder questions. I check the sources. I decide what’s worth keeping and discard what’s not.
AI gives you the sparks. But the fire—what actually makes it onto the page—that still has to come from you.
Growth
Thank You Page Survey
This last month I ran an eye-opening experiment.
One of the drawbacks of running a newsletter is that you don’t get a lot of engagement from readers. Most people simply don’t tend to reply to newsletters — don’t ask me why. On the flip side, the ones that do tend to spark some of the best conversations I’ve had online.
But the point of the matter is that if all you do is run a newsletter, you’ll have to find other ways to get to know your readers better.
Until recently, when someone subscribed to my newsletter, I redirected them to a simple Thank you page, and did the obvious: Thanked them.
But in October I changed one small thing: I added a single question to that page.
And to my surprise, in a single month, 192 people answered it.
To put that in context, about 70% of new subscribers took the time to respond.
Now I’m thinking of switching up the question next month—and keep using this space to learn more about the people who show up and read what I write.
Cross-promotion
I was talking to a friend of mine—also a writer—and he mentioned that he’s been promoting other newsletters inside his own. Then he offered to do the same for mine.
His newsletter has 23,000 readers, and most of them are writers too, so on paper it’s a great fit.
But I wasn’t entirely sold on the method he proposed. The idea was to place a small box at the top of the newsletter recommending each other’s publications. Even if done tastefully, I don’t know, it kind of still feels like advertising—and ads aren’t something I want in this newsletter.
What I’d rather propose is that we each write a guest piece for the other’s publication. He’s a strong writer, so he’d deliver something of real value. And more importantly, it feels like a more genuine form of collaboration—one that actually gives readers a taste of our work and lets them decide whether to subscribe.
I’m still thinking it over, but I do like the idea of occasionally bringing in new voices and perspectives.
What do you think? Would you enjoy reading pieces from other writers once in a while?
Facebook Ads
I’m still running the same Facebook campaign I mentioned in Report #1 to attract new subscribers—if you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you came from that campaign.
But since I’m also managing a $100,000 email-growth campaign for a client, I’ll borrow some of what I’m learning there to give you a clearer picture of how the ad landscape looks right now.
The first thing that stands out: the market is crowded. Ads everywhere. Offers everywhere. And as a result, people have become far more protective of their email addresses.
Two years ago, converting 60% of landing-page visitors into subscribers was realistic. Today, you’re lucky if you hit 30%.
People are overwhelmed by options — and often underwhelmed by what those options deliver. So they hesitate. They think twice before subscribing to anything new.
In other words, the ad game is tougher than it used to be.
That said, my own campaign for this newsletter has been running for over six months, and I’m still getting subscribers for €2.40 each.
If you do the math, you’ll see that even with a modest budget of €100 per month, you could grow to 500 subscribers in a year.
Most people will say that’s not worth it. And they’re right — if you don’t put in the work to earn those readers’ trust, it’s a waste of money. But if you genuinely pour yourself into what you create, those first 500 readers can become the foundation for making a living from your writing.
Ok, now let’s move to the practical part.
If you ever decide to experiment with Facebook Ads, here’s the single piece of advice I’d give you:
Facebook is extremely good at finding the right people for what you offer—if you communicate clearly.
That means understanding the core idea behind your writing and expressing it in a way that compels someone to want more.
If you can do that, you can run ads (the technical side of it has become the least important factor.)
But, I’ll be honest, it’s rarely obvious what the right angle is on your first try. So it’s important to give Facebook options.
Write 3–5 different versions of your ad text. Test 3–10 images if you can. Then step back and let Facebook identify what resonates.
Your job is clarity. Facebook’s job is distribution.
Deliverability Issue Update
Last month I realized I was making a rookie mistake.
I’d been sending my newsletter using Substack’s domain instead of my own. Which meant I wasn’t building any reputation for my domain. So if I ever decided to leave Substack, I’d have to start sending from my own domain with a completely cold reputation—and a good chunk of those emails would end up in spam. Not good.
So this month I temporarily switched to sending my emails through Systeme.io using my own domain. But I had to be strategic about it to make sure I warmed up the domain properly. Here’s what I did:
Removed anyone who hadn’t opened an email in the past 90 days
Split the remaining list into three engagement buckets: Hot, Warm, and Lukewarm
Sent the first email only to the Hot segment
Sent the second email to the Hot + Warm segments
Sent the third email to all three segments
Open rates have been between 37% and 50%, so I’m pretty happy with the results.
Ideally, you won’t have to deal with this issue—though once you get past 3,000–5,000 subscribers you’ll start caring a lot about deliverability, trust me. But here’s the main takeaway:
If you’re starting a newsletter on Substack, set up your own domain from day one.
Substack Notes
In Report #1, I mentioned that I was planning to start using Substack Notes in 2026 to attract more readers.
I still think it’s a great low-hanging fruit. My newsletter already lives on Substack, and Notes seems to offer meaningful exposure to new readers.
That said, I’m not a fan of short-form content—especially the kind that requires constant posting. The frequency, the volume, the churn… it’s just not where I want to spend my time.
So I’ve been working on a solution. The idea is to build a system that handles most of the work for me. My only job would be quality control.
Here’s what I mean.
Right now, I have 29 published essays. If I take those essays and:
Generate thoughtful questions based on their core ideas
Pull compelling quotes from the most interesting passages
Condense key arguments into standalone micro-essays
I suddenly have a huge pool of material that’s perfect for Notes, and that also points people back to the original essays.
But manually creating all of that is tedious. So here’s the workflow I’m planning to build—something that automates 80% of the process:
Each week, an AI reviews my published essays and, using my prompts and guidelines, generates 20–30 potential Notes
Those Notes get added to a database in my Notion workspace
I go through them, edit where needed, and approve the ones I want posted
The approved Notes get published
Next week: repeat
This would let me stay focused on the essays—where my attention genuinely matters—while still maintaining a consistent presence on Notes. My involvement would shrink to reviewing the batch once a week and checking Substack daily just to respond to anyone who engages.
I already have a good sense of how to build this system. With some luck, I’ll carve out time in December to get it done. If not, January for sure.
And if it works, I’ll let you know.
That’s a Wrap (For Now)
So far, this report experiment has been genuinely fun for me. It forces me to pause, reflect on the journey, and make the process of building this project more transparent. My hope is that it also gives you a clearer sense of what goes into creating something like this.
If you’re enjoying these reports—or if you’re not—your feedback helps me see whether they’re worth continuing long term. Even a brief “this was helpful” gives me a useful signal.
Thanks for reading all the way through. Next week, we’re back to the essays.
With trust,
Gianni