A Galactic Guide To The Digital Void
It is a statistical anomaly of the highest order that when a human being presses a button labeled "Publish," they expect another human being to immediately read it.
The internet, which is essentially just a very large collection of cables buried in the mud under the Atlantic Ocean to help people argue about cats, does not care about your prose. It is currently busy trying to process 42 million simultaneous requests for videos of lawnmowers doing things they shouldn't.
If you are currently loitering on the platform known as Substack, or Bear Blog, hoping to cross the legendary 100-view milestone, you will have noticed the traffic counter. The counter is managed by a small, overworked algorithm in California that calculates your self-worth using a complicated mathematical formula involving cookies, email opens, and sheer, unadulterated luck.
Many novice writers make the fatal mistake of looking at their dashboard every eleven seconds. This is scientifically proven to slow down the speed of light.
The Golden Rule of the Ledger (An Actual Tip)
If you want the algorithm to notice you, you must understand the Principle of the Heavy Trunk.
An algorithm is a deeply lazy creature. If you only post once every three months, it has to wake up, find its spectacles, and remember who you are.
But if you build a structured filing cabinet—what the technical wizards call an Archive—and you feed it regularly with different formats (a bit of prose on a Tuesday, a short script on a Friday), the algorithm gets comfortable. It sets up a small camp bed in your dashboard. It brings its friends.
The best way to get 100 views isn't to shout louder into the void. It’s to ensure that when one lonely space traveller accidentally clicks your link because their mouse slipped, they find a room with five different doors to look through. If they don't like your poetry, they might stay for the bacon sarnie.