Was I a Coward to Pull Out of a Substack Live? Some thoughts on risk-taking
Thought for the Fortnight
This past August, the very thoughtful Substack writer
(The Literary Obsessive) asked me to take part with her in a Substack Live. We set a date a long time in advance, but I subsequently wrote to pull out of the event, the very first time in my 83 years that I had ever reneged on a professional commitment.For those who don’t know, a Substack Live involves one or two (or more) people talking live over the Substack airwaves, with anyone able to listen in. The event is usually recorded and subsequently sent out to the subscribers of those involved. Eleanor has now undertaken many of these events and she easily found a replacement for the date I cancelled.
Some people love doing them. Perhaps they also love being on live TV or radio.
But a lot of soul-searching occurred on my part, both before and after my withdrawal. Was my decision cowardly, as I felt at the time, or possibly brave?
I don’t know the answer myself.
Substack Lives
I was never drawn to take part in a Substack Live. You don’t know where the discussion will lead and you don’t know what you might say. Although I am very open about certain aspects of my life, I am essentially a very private person and guard the privacy of myself and my family with some care.
A lot of issues arose in agreeing to take part in such an event, at least for me.
Would I forget myself in the excitement of the moment and say something I would regret forever afterwards? Or would I be unable to remember some very obvious information, as happens more and more as I age, and feel foolish? Or would some other unforeseeable disaster occur?
And I have two more general fears, both touched by that invitation. First, I have an irrational and almost pagan fear of cameras. I somehow imagine that they see inside my head to my most private thoughts – and, sensible as I generally am, I have never been able to shake this off.
Second, I have a fear of the unseen audience. Years ago, I was a guest on a live afternoon TV programme and also took part in a live radio interview, both times on issues concerning my work. On each occasion, I was terrified beyond measure and did not do myself justice, somehow losing my normal fluency.
(In contrast, I love a live audience. I have spoken publicly on numerous occasions with great pleasure. Not just small groups, but large conferences. The biggest was a talk for World AIDS Day, when I joined Sir Ian McKellen and other luminaries in front of St Paul’s church in Covent Garden. It was said there were 3000 or more people present. I certainly couldn’t see them all, but I wasn’t uncomfortable doing the event.)
When the invitation came, I had already been asked by two other people to take part in a Substack Live and had refused on both occasions. But this time, I thought, I can’t keep turning down these requests – and maybe it would be fun. I think of myself as someone who relishes a challenge.
My response
From the moment I accepted Eleanor’s invitation, I was slightly anxious about it but I managed to keep that under control. Yet as the day grew nearer, I realised I was thinking about it more and more. Friends reassured me that there was nothing to fear and my husband, ever a believer in my competency, did the same.
Yet the real ‘tell’ was my sleep. Roughly three weeks before the impending day, I began to wake in the night with sense of general dread. Waking up is normal for me, but the dread is not. I realised that the only explanation was the forthcoming Substack Live. And it seemed to me that if this was my response now, by the time of the event I would be rendered completely inarticulate by insomnia, never mind all the other reasons why it didn’t feel like such a great idea.
So, with a heavy heart, I wrote to Eleanor explaining my problem, apologising profusely, but suggesting that pulling out was the only sensible course. I was doing so early enough that she would not have begun to publicise the event. And I emphasised that it had nothing to do with her.
I felt like a terrible coward.
It was in many ways a very minor decision, but it felt large to me. I hate letting anyone down – most of all myself.
She, of course, was kindness itself, saying that “Live Substacks are not for everyone.” She knew they were nerve-wracking, including for her.
My husband calmed me by saying I had been brave to acknowledge my own difficulties and I should not berate myself. Eleanor concurred. And, I thought to myself, surely at my age I should feel free to recognise my limitations without feeling badly about them. I am what I am. I don’t need to prove myself to anyone.
Once the decision was made, I slept long and very well.
And Eleanor invited me to answer her 8 Questions about being on Substack, which I did and sent out ten days ago.
Taking risks
But this discussion led me to reflect on that aspect of our personalities that make us avoid – or welcome – risk. It clearly differs from one person to another and in different spheres for any one person.
The first time I gave any serious thought to this issue was after reading the autobiography of a gay MP years ago. He had been caught soliciting on Clapham Common and noted that he was regularly asked why he would undertake something so risky to his career. I can’t quote him exactly, but he argued that his behaviour was not about the sex, but about the thrill of the risk. I found this a new and interesting take on human behaviour.
Eleanor also relishes risk – so many ways to demonstrate. First, there is her choice to undertake so many Live discussions. Second, she decided some time ago to write a set of Substack posts, now published as a book, where she wrote whatever came into her mind every morning, pressing ‘send’ within a certain time period. Risky indeed. And third, if you read her book, you learn of her years in all sorts of risky activities, including her life as a hippie and as a drug addict.
The photo shows her bungee jumping. Need I say more?
In correspondence on this issue, she replied simply, “Yes, I am an adrenaline junky.”
In contrast, I have often said I like a challenge, but in a much more controlled way. In fact, I have taken very few risks in my life. Yes, I married at age 21, which was kind-of risky behaviour but it didn’t feel that way at the time (I was too young to think of it as such).
But much later, I decided to work freelance, which is distinctly risky for anyone. I thrived in this capacity and loved the fact that when the phone rang, I never knew what I might be asked to do. I accepted jobs that I didn’t have a clue how to fulfil and had to work it out. I found it all very stimulating. And learned a lot.
Much later still, I took a certain risk here on Substack, by writing about older people and sex, including a post on orgasms. An interview with
was published with the brazen title: ‘On savouring old age, writing and sex at 82’. The title had been her decision, but I thought, why not? (She, incidentally, loves doing Substack Lives.)And I am announcing my own failure right here.
So do I like taking risks? Yes, a little. I am not completely risk averse. But not bungee jumping.
And not a Substack Live, thank you.
AND FINALLY
Most of you probably know this by one means or another, but I would just like to share the lovely fact that I have been shortlisted by
for an award for the Best Pro-Ageing Substack Writer 2025. It is a great honour to be so nominated.The decision is to be announced on 20 November at an awards ceremony in London. I feel I am going to the Oscars!
My great thanks to Eleanor Anstruther, who not only read a draft of this post, but also provided the wonderful photo.
So would you do a Substack Live? Would you write about sex here on Substack or elsewhere? How do you feel about taking risks? I love to hear from.you all on whatever is on your mind and will respond to one and all.
“To thine own self be true.” That’s it.
Very honest piece. I don't think that you are a coward one bit - I was never a fan of a life perspective that endorsed 'say yes to everything'. I got great advice from a mentor earlier in my career. He said to me that when it came to life 'challenges/brick walls' there were three approaches: (i) those that said 'this is a challenge' and I am going to get over this wall no matter what. (ii) those who say - this wall is too high and too hard so I am not going to try and (iii) those who climb to a better view point and see what is at the other side of the wall and then decide if it is worth the climb. its this third approach that many of us forget. Sounds to me like you took this third approach. Just because we could do something, doesn't mean we should do something. Give yourself a break - you have absolutely nothing to prove at 83! And you can also change your mind if at sometime in the future the 'view over the wall' becomes more appealing !