I thought running a newsletter about student journalism would be easy
Behind the scenes of The Nutgraf: My journey and lessons learned
What started as a fun project to cure my boredom has turned into a learning journey that has pushed me to do things out of my comfort zone — for the better. When I quit my reporting job to attend graduate school full-time, I wasn’t ready to give up reporting.
So, I started a Substack newsletter focused on student journalism, The Nutgraf, as a passion project. It was an overlooked and undervalued topic I was familiar with. I believed consistent storytelling would naturally attract an audience and ultimately lead to sponsorship funding.
My assumption was quickly challenged as I faced the complexities of audience engagement, growth and sustainability. There was so much more to running a successful newsletter than just reporting and writing.
You have to promote yourself, cold email people, care about numbers, seek feedback, be strategic, self-accountable and not afraid to ask for money.
The bottom line: Passion isn’t enough. You need a plan.
The Entrepreneurial Journalism Creator Program served as both a reality check and a framework for how to start and run a journalism venture, ensuring I can tackle challenges and seize opportunities effectively.
Embracing new roles alone
The Nutgraf focuses on student journalism, especially stories from lesser-known student media organizations.
It has covered various topics, including how student journalists cope with hate comments, AI policies in student newsrooms, and FOIA clashes.
Each weekly issue consists of a main story that I do original reporting for; a bigger-picture section where I look for a pattern of similar incidents at nationwide publications; and an advice section where I compile expert comments on what student journalists can do if they’re in the same situation as the main story.
On top of those, there are story spotlight and featured opportunities sections — where I go out of my way to look for stories related to the weekly topic and for industry opportunities such as workshops, internship openings and conferences.
It’s a lot of work each week, but I’m proud of each issue.
These were just the easy parts, however. What came after publishing was new to me.
I had to be my own publicist, marketer, business strategist, and social media intern. Transitioning from a reporter to an entrepreneur required multiple new roles.
These are conversations I would have with myself all the time:
After a story runs, nobody will read it if they don’t know about it.
OK, so I have to promote it? How do I do that?
Let me post it on X.
Oh, but I don’t get much impression from X anymore.
Let me try LinkedIn.
But I hate self-promotion and I hate how people talk on LinkedIn.
If I post on LinkedIn and tag people, will they think I’m annoying?
Maybe I’ll just email the article to my subjects, hoping they’ll share.Oh wait, someone’s talking about student journalism on X.
Let me reach out to them.
Should I ask them to subscribe?
Is that too direct? I don’t even know them.Wow, someone’s reaching out to me because they wanted to do an interview about my newsletter. Should I say yes? Should I do it?
But I hate public speaking too.Oh there’s a student journalism conference in New York. Should I go?
Yes, I think I’ll go talk to students to promote the newsletter.
Wait what do I say to them? Would they hate self-promotion? I know I do.Ugh, my numbers don’t go up at all.
What did I do wrong?
Are my stories not good enough?
What I’m trying to say is I didn’t know what I was doing. I tried everything that came to mind without having a reason to back my decisions.
But I have done things I never thought I would be capable of doing: podcast interviews, speaking with professors (that I didn’t know) about my work, submitting my work for awards, guest speaking at a youth journalism panel, and giving advice to young reporters.
Because it solely relied on passion, I was worn out and questioned why I was doing all this at times.
Keep in mind: I also worked on grad school full-time, had three other part-time jobs, and juggled the EJCP course.
Here’s a screenshot of my busiest week in April. I would start my day at 4:30 a.m. and be tight almost every hour until the evening. I didn’t even put Nutgraf time (beyond interviews) in there. I don’t know how I went through that.
I never regretted doing those because these activities pushed me out of my comfort zone and allowed me to build a network of supporters and collaborators.
I’m actually not alone
Being part of the EJCP made me realize I wasn’t alone. Almost everyone in the cohort shared the sentiment of being a solopreneur. I felt like these people get it.
Among other things, the program introduced me to landscape and audience analysis. I got to talk to my audience — some already knew me personally while some were strangers.
Then I realized my project had value and that I wasn’t sending out these articles into the void. People actually read it. I was doing a service.
One student told me he had class at 8 a.m. on Monday and would make it his routine to read my newsletter during his commute as it comes out around 7 a.m.
Another student said they normally don’t look at everything in their inbox but always open The Nutgraf. Another student said they read every issue.
I thought to myself: Wow, I really don’t believe it. I knew what I was doing was good, but I didn’t think it was THAT good and actually had value.
From those conversations, I identified two areas The Nutgraf can tackle: student journalists are hungry for a community, and there’s a gap between scholastic and professional journalism.
The Nutgraf needs to be a supportive community for student journalists, a go-to resource for advice and new story ideas. A place where their voice is uplifted and represented.
I’ve been making changes to cater to my audience’s needs more: being more concise, offering more advice-based stories, organizing stories more (e.g., one topic for each month), adding calls to action, revising the structure, and changing my welcome email and about page.
Just more than a month into the program, I felt more secure about what I was doing. I cared less about subscription growth because I knew my current subscribers were quality, engaged ones.
I knew I was doing a service.
My next 100 days
What has been successful so far is building personal connections with my audience. I want to continue doing that.
I don’t just want to be a journalist behind a screen. I want this to be two-way. I want to create a relationship. I want to build a community.
During my publishing break over the summer, I plan to reach out to journalism professors to introduce myself and the newsletter and offer one-on-one talks about challenges their students face and what resources might be helpful for them.
I also plan to reach out to professional organizations involved in the student journalism sphere to see how we can help each other.
When the new semester begins this fall, The Nutgraf is exploring hosting virtual events where student journalists can exchange ideas. Some topics I have in mind are AI policies and covering the 2024 presidential election.
My passion for student journalism remains.
Student journalists are journalists. They are overlooked and undervalued. The Nutgraf is here to create a supportive community for them, uplift their voices, and showcase their work.
It has been an intense few months with the newsletter, the EJCP, my master’s program, and my other part-time jobs. I’m admitting here that I’m burnt out. I need a break.
I will do that. But I will be back better.
