Substack Superstar Shay Andrewin is Doing the Most

The writer/book club facilitator/literary magazine editor talks community, creativity and following their passions as a young, queer Black person

Like many young people fresh out of college, 22-year-old Shay Andrewin has been attempting to answer the question of “What next?”

And like many fresh graduates, instead of doing something with their psychology degree like their mom is telling them to, they say they’re just “vibing” at the moment.

“Vibing,” of course, meaning amassing over 16,000 subscribers on their Substack publication, facilitating a local chapter of a book club with an international reach and creating and editing their own literary magazine.

Still, they insist with a sheepish grin, “I’m just a regular guy!”

Andrewin’s Substack page, “Notes on Being,” was born at Nina’s Coffee Cafe in St. Paul. We met there to chat on one of those Minnesota summer days where the heat plays chicken with you (you think it’s OK to wear pants, but you still come home swampy). Our table was next to a Little Free Library, and we laughed at the number of divorce self-help books inside.

Andrewin writes extensively and beautifully about their experiences as a queer Black lesbian. Their writing, infused with passionate honesty and intimacy, brings to mind the Latin root of the word “amateur,” “amare,” meaning “to love.”

“I started [Substack] because my friend would post articles all the time that she reads and I thought, ‘What, that’s so cool!’” they explain. “I got the app and I saw that it’s just a bunch of queer people sharing their art, so I was like, ‘I think I’ll just hop on and do that!’ It just felt like a very comfortable space to share my art without being judged.”

Indeed, on my own Substack feed, I’ve seen folks insist that Substack is not social media, but rather a space for people to be authentically creative.

Andrewin’s most popular piece to date, “The Weight of Wanting Love,” is a reckoning with their feelings of having to earn love by constantly giving and learning to accept their inherent worthiness. It’s a weighty piece that describes a widely felt insecurity with the rawness of a journal entry.

Judging by the piece’s like count, over 24,000 people have resonated with Andrewin’s words in some way.

“At first, no one was reading my art, until one random day it just blew up, and I was like ‘Okay, cool!’ I just went along with it,” they say. 

Their queer commentary, “Bring Back the Fingers,” is “A Masc Lesbian’s Ode to the Lost Art of Touch” that discusses lesbian sexuality with playful charm. “I want to be like Solange” is an ode to one of their inspirations, whom Andrewin says they were listening to before meeting with me. 

“Her music creates a space that feels sacred and deeply personal, yet universally resonant. Every song feels like an invitation to let your guard down, to heal, to just be,” they wrote.

If “Notes on Being” is any indication, Andrewin is most definitely following in Ms. Knowles’ footsteps.

Andrewin is bringing people together not only through their own writing but also by encouraging others’ intellectual and creative pursuits.

Andrewin started their own Black book club, The AfroReads Collective, aspiring to build a community similar to rapper Noname’s book club, which has chapters across the country and the world. Then, in January, they were asked to facilitate a Twin Cities chapter.

“I’ve gotten a lot more comfortable being [the facilitator,] cause when I first started, I was so nervous!” they say. “I had [AfroReads], but I was too scared to hold events. Now I can’t wait for Saturday to come! It definitely allowed me to step out of my comfort zone when it came to talking to groups.”

The Twin Cities chapter of the Noname Book Club meets on the last Saturday of every month to discuss different pieces of radical Black literature. Monthly reads and meeting dates and times are posted on the @nonamereads Instagram.

Andrewin says their favorite Noname read so far is “Blessings” by Chukwuebuka Ibeh, which tells the story of a man growing up queer in Nigeria who is sent to a seminary school by his father.

“It’s just a really fun time to sit there and discuss books with like-minded people,” they say. “Even if you haven’t read the book, you can still come, since not all of our discussions are about the book. More people should come through.”

Andrewin’s latest pursuit has been starting a literary magazine from scratch, which they say was motivated by boredom and the whiteness of similar magazines at the University of Minnesota.

“I’m lowkey Tyler, The Creator if he was a regular guy,” they say, mentioning the rapper and fellow Pisces releasing his latest dance album just because he wanted to.

Tagged as “A publication by us, for us,” “HOMIES” showcases Black creativity on an immense and international scale — Andrewin says they’re shocked by the amount of submissions they’ve received, some all the way from Nigeria.

“The fact that it reached all the way out there, like when I got [the submission email], I was so gagged, like, what do you mean you’re submitting work from Nigeria?!” they say. “Most of the work has gagged me.”

Andrewin says they want “HOMIES” to become something big, with their response to issue one — out August 15 — things may be headed that way.

“I feel like if I had a magazine and it became big and I could, like, interview local artists, that would be dope,” they say.

I joke that they wouldn’t need their psych degree in that case. “No, actually!” they chuckle.

Still, to Andrewin, “HOMIES” is about a lot more than fulfilling their own creative pursuits or avoiding the field in which they earned their degree.

“Community saved my life, I’m not even gonna joke about it,” they say. “Having people around me who look and act like me, it really helped me become who I am today. ‘HOMIES’ isn’t just a magazine you pick up and flip through, it’s a community of people who put it all together.”

For as long as I’ve been in Andrewin’s orbit on social media, they’ve exuded an effortless coolness and humor that makes their success in so many pursuits seem like a given. Throughout our chat, though, it became clear how following their creative passions has made them more confident.

“The world we live in today is trying to not have people pursue arts and just keep them in this little box, and every time I do step out of my comfort zone to do something like that, it just feels very empowering,” they explain. “Like I’m going against what everyone wants me to do.”

They insist that everyone can — and should — find a way to be creative.

“Literally just do s—. Once you get an idea, just do it. Even if you think you don’t have the money or resources, find a way to do it.”