Forget 1,000 True Fans; Try This Instead

Why the One Wealthy Recluse model is a better, time-tested alternative

If you’re in a creative industry, you’ve no doubt come across the 1,000 True Fans model. The idea behind 1,000 True Fans is that you don’t need millions of fans to have a successful career in the arts. Instead, all you need is 1,000 dedicated fans who are willing to pay around $100 a year for what you create.

Well, I’m here to tell you that 1,000 True Fans is a load of crap. Because there’s a much more achievable, far more sustainable way to have a creative career. It’s called the One Wealthy Recluse model.

The One Wealthy Recluse model is simple: rather than finding 1,000 people who are willing to pay $100 for your work, you only need to find one person who is willing to pay $100,000 for your work. It doesn’t take a math genius to realize that finding 1,000 fans is 1,000 times more difficult than finding one fan.

Readers of this newsletter know that I’m far from having 1,000 paying subscribers or making $100,000 a year on Substack. In fact, at my current newsletter income of $74/month, I’m less than 1% of the way there. And while I’m incredibly grateful to my paying subscribers, it was still hard to see a path to making a living just from my writing.

That is, until I met Gregorio.

How to Find a Wealthy Recluse

Meeting a wealthy recluse typically happens in one of three ways:

1. While wandering through an empty cemetery on a dreary day, you come across an impeccably dressed elderly figure standing quietly by the grave of their deceased spouse. They notice you and strike up a conversation. After a while, you make a witty, off-hand remark, which you instantly regret, worried you may have offended them. Thankfully, they smile and tell you that you remind them of their spouse, who always used to make them laugh. They then invite you to their home for tea. 

2. While lost, deep in an old-growth forest, you stumble across a dirt road that isn’t on any of your maps. You follow the road and, after turning a corner, see a moss-covered mansion. At first glance, it looks abandoned, but, as you approach, you realize there’s smoke coming from the chimney. Just as you’re about to knock, the door opens and a stern-looking caretaker greets you, invites you in for tea, and informs you that the proprietor of the estate will be down in just a moment.

3. While home alone, reading a book, on a quiet night, you hear a knock at the front door. You answer it, and standing before you is a tall butler in a tuxedo and white gloves. The butler hands you a cryptic note that just says “Tea” followed by a time and address. 

I met Gregorio the third way. That’s one of the great things about wealthy recluses — you rarely have to go out and find them yourself. They almost always find you. When your wealthy recluse is fourth in line to the Duchy of San Lorenzo, they just have to make one phone call to instantly track you down.

Gregorio’s majordomo, Wilberforce (awesome dude, btw), escorted me to Gregorio’s palatial estate — in a location I am not legally allowed to disclose — where Gregorio explained to me that he would give me an annual stipend of $100,000 to write whatever I wanted, with zero editorial interference on his part, on just two conditions:

1. I relocate to the small cottage on the grounds of his estate and become his ornamental hermit.

2. I text him weekly pictures of myself wandering through the estate’s gardens barefoot (he insisted on the barefoot part — said “I must see your filthy serf toes”)

The deal was obviously a no-brainer.

Disadvantages of the One Wealthy Recluse Model

Of course, there are some minor downsides to the One Wealthy Recluse model. I was not allowed to bring my wife, so long-distance marriage is taking some getting used to. The cottage also doesn’t have electricity, let alone Wi-Fi, so I have to walk to the internet cafe in town whenever I want to publish anything. Plus, Gregorio insists on paying me in untraceable Italian bearer bonds, which can only be cashed in at the Central Bank of Italy. And, of course, walking everywhere barefoot means roundworms are a constant problem, so I’m on a weekly regimen of Ivermectin (thankfully, parasitic worms are one thing Ivermectin actually does treat).

There are silver linings to these downsides, though. The 10-mile walk into town is great exercise, and my wife and I are planning to make a romantic getaway out of my next trip to Rome.

A Time-Tested System

There’s a reason most art throughout human history has been funded by wealthy recluses. Have you ever read about how the poets of Tudor England wrote sonnets to each of their 1,000 Peasant patrons? Or how Roman playwrights would thank their 1,000 Plebeians by name in a special acknowledgements section at the end of every play? No? Exactly.

Sure, there’s the occasional asshole like Dickens who got paid by the word to write serialized fiction. But that’s how you end up with garbage like this:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way…”

If Dickens had a wealthy recluse sponsoring his work instead of relying on weekly newspapers, he could’ve just written: 

“The times? Mid.” 

And we would have all been better off for it.

So to those who are able to serialize your novels, or run newsletters with thousands of paid subscribers, I wish you nothing but the best. But I’m sticking with my guy Gregorio. 

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a shoeless stroll through the zinnia bed and wiggle my toes in the dirt a little. Gregorio needs his weekly pics.

Comments

1. Do you want to find a wealthy recluse of your own? Let me know what you’re looking for in an ideal recluse, and where you’d be willing to relocate, and I can hook you up with Gregorio’s network of mysterious European nobles.

2. Apparently Dickens didn’t get paid by the word, but I wrote the joke before I bothered to fact-check this, so if you were about to point that out in the comments, just know that I know and I don’t care. I’m keeping the joke.

Announcements

1. I’m teaching a topical satire workshop this Saturday! There are only a few spots left, so sign up before it sells out.

2. My short story “A Visit From the Tune Squad” is going to be on NPR this week!!! Tune into Selected Shorts this week on your local NPR station, or look for the Selected Shorts episode “Unexpected Guests” wherever you get your podcasts.

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Having a European nobleman who sponsors my work is great, but I can always use some extra cash for those trips to Rome. Upgrading to paid also helps me keep Shades of Greaves accessible to all, and gets you access to my monthly roundup of extra comedy tidbits, La Ñapa. You can support at any of the following levels:

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