Breaking up with content marketing
here’s why + five considerations to embrace creative writing for your online presence
Welcome to the Lighthouse Library! In this publication, I explore how small business owners can let go of sound (yet questionable) content creation advice to focus on publishing long-form content that feels true to who they are as humans and professionals. This is my first essay, and I make a case against content marketing, which doesn’t always work for small businesses who want the freedom to share their ideas in their own, unique way.
Back when I worked as a magazine editor, one of my tasks was to go through submissions we received on a weekly basis. It was both an exciting and difficult endeavor: I might be on the cusp of discovering a new voice and perspective, or moments away from turning down a hopeful writer.
After some months in the role, I realized that, among the wide range of approaches, there were two clear types of first-time submissions. On the one hand, there were those who’d send in articles betting on their faultless SEO skills. Their articles included clean headings and hyperlinks to solid sources and their personal websites and social media, and they were often followed up with five email reminders to please take a look. That was an admirable and understandable approach in a digital landscape that values SEO-driven content (or a large social following) over authenticity.
On the other hand, there were those who’d write in saying they’d already read a piece about this topic on our website, and that they might not be the most knowledgeable person to write about it, but still, they wanted to give it a go. Their emails would feel like they’d been written in a single breath, keyboard burning with doubt, and a sweet “f*** it” gut feeling. While these writers might have been active on socials and blogs, it wasn’t until we created their author profile on our website that we found their IG profile or website. They wrote in, quite simply, because they had things to say.
It is the latter’s thought process that I would like to look at today. In my memory, those writers were often the ones with the clearest voices. They’d thought about a new point of view; they wanted to share another perspective, perhaps even one that might be controversial or that questioned the status quo. They might not have been new at their jobs, or at writing, but they were new at sending their words to a publication, the possibilities of getting published perhaps as daunting as the alternative.
Everything has already been written about
Here’s a simple fact: Unless you write about quantum mechanics or a secret planet in the solar system, it is likely that what you write about already exists. Every nook and corner of the world has been written about, whether in a bestselling book or hidden in a journal. Your writing soul mate might be living in a small village in the middle of China, and she is writing about the same things you are, quirks included.

But if we zoom out a little, sharing ideas is not about being the first to say something. Great ideas are formed in the unique minds of unique people, whose life stories and understanding of the world are shaped by a million different elements. Some of them are obvious, like where the writer comes from, or what education they received, but others have to do with that one person they sat next to on a bus on a random winter morning, or that book that changed everything for them. All those pieces of you are what make your ideas and writing unique – and worth sharing. In the words of multi-faceted writer Asha Dornfest, “[...] new writers are too worried that it has all been said before. Sure it has, but not by you.”
Today, this fact feels even more pressing. In a world of virality, trends, and AI-generated content, maintaining a sense of self is a challenge. In the context of work, that is an impossible fact to ignore, especially for those of us who fly solo as small business owners and founders. We want (and need) to “be found.” How can we write about our favorite topics when a million other people, or even possibly a billion, are doing the same thing?
How do we make sure our ideas are heard, seen, read, and by people who might benefit from them?
The fallacy of the niche
Modern content marketers will insist that the solution to this is niching down. Pick a few topics to write about (“content pillars”), have a clear brand — both visually and in your messaging — and keep at it. Make a content calendar for the next 12 months. Use SEO, repeat the same message over and over again in somewhat different ways (“repurpose”), and you’ll be set. This is how you’ll end your human doubts to conquer the digital algorithms: differentiating yourself with targeted keywords and carefully designed blog posts.
I’m simplifying it, mostly because my curiosity was never piqued enough to become an expert at content marketing the way I probably “should” have as a content writer, manager, and digital publisher. The deeper rules and formulas that make content marketing work bore me; they always seemed too stiff and dehumanizing. And at the same time, they feel too vague and unhelpful. Somehow it’s always about Google first, then letting yourself be human, when I believe in my core that it should be the other way around.
Let’s have a look at the definition from the Content Marketing Institute:
Content marketing: A strategic marketing approach focused on creating and distributing valuable, relevant, and consistent content to attract and retain a clearly defined audience — and, ultimately, to drive profitable customer action.
While content marketing might educate, entertain, or serve to position a company as a thought leader, its job is ultimately to market and sell. In that way, content marketing is like turning communication into a well-oiled, 24/7 machine. Its insidious goal is to produce content to drive sales, anchored in the ubiquitous productivity-centered mindset of our modern societies. We take an art – language, communication, the creation of meaning – and turn it into its assembly-line cousin.
Sadly, these practices have been flooding the online space for years, if not decades. It’s been sold to creatives and freelancers as the way to make an online business successful, to gain space on the market in a somewhat gentle way. For that reason alone, I could never blame the writers who submitted articles that followed marketing principles to a T, even though they did annoy me at times.
Back then, I thought: If there is no space for human, thoughtful content out there, then we must create it ourselves.
Yes, and: creativity & ideas-led writing beyond content marketing
I’m not saying content marketing isn’t creative, just like selling isn’t inherently a bad thing. Humans have been trading and convincing others to buy their products since time immemorial. On many occasions, content marketing serves its purpose, and many of its principles are interesting to take in.
But when our business is tied to ourselves, say, as service providers, it can be difficult to box our entire selves into a niche. In some cases, it can even be hard to define the industry we work in, or we may not want to be associated with it if we have reservations or strong feelings about its status quo. In that case, writing for marketing purposes rather than contributing to a higher vision can feel even more icky.
If your goal isn’t to add to the noise, and you want to share carefully crafted ideas because you want them to spark self-reflection, conversations, and perhaps connect you with future clients and colleagues in subtle ways — that’s where creativity lies.

And I think we also have to be realistic: People are not stupid. We all know how the world works; we are constantly being sold to. Bringing a little self-awareness to our content creation can go a long way. Writers and readers alike can stop thinking about selling and buying, and we can all focus on what we really crave: quality and original ideas, belonging, opportunities for learning, and so much more. Making a product or service sale would then be a wonderful byproduct of the writing rather than its sole intent.
Besides, people are not even looking up the stuff we want to write about. Just take what I’m writing now: It has more chances of being read because you’ll share it than because of Google. Frankly, I’d rather spend a little extra time finding genuine ways to pique curiosity with a creative heading and subtitle than play the algorithm games.
Is it time to swap your content marketing efforts for creative writing? Five considerations to embrace it for your online presence
I know I won’t be able to erase years of content marketing conditioning in one post, but I did want to end with a little nudge. I hope I have made, if nothing else, a tiny dent in your mind. Sometimes we just need permission from someone else to do something we’d been thinking about all along. Here are five more reasons to follow your gut.
You’re sick of “optimization” and CTAs in every sentence. There is no harm in promoting services or products you believe in, and you should most definitely continue doing that. But it’s okay if some parts of your work involve letting ideas percolate in the mind of the reader; introducing new concepts or ideas you’ve been thinking about for years; or bringing people together around a cause, a hobby, or an aspiration. (Click here if the ideas in this article are percolating! Kidding! I have nowhere to take you! Well, perhaps the subscribe button below…)
Your role or industry is hard to define, or you don’t want to associate with it 100% of the time. Content marketing cannot fill the space you operate in. Here, I’m thinking about coaches of all kinds, business consultants doing things against the grain, storytellers and creatives… or even sales and marketing people doing things differently. Like I mentioned earlier, chances are the reader who’ll be eagerly awaiting your next piece won’t be Googling what you write about.
You feel limited by what you can write about because of content marketing “rules.” Related to the above point, content marketing favors quick, digestible, search-friendly articles like What is a life coach, Ways to be a digital nomad in 2025, 5 cafes to visit when you’re in downtown Toronto, or How to doodle a Christmas tree. I may not know you, reader, but I am absolutely certain that you have a lot more to say about your last trip than listing 5 coffee shops you went to (one of which might be a Starbucks because you needed to pee). You shouldn’t have to shrink yourself to exist in general – that applies to your online existence.
You may have tried content marketing, without ever really feeling convinced that it was for you — or that it was working for your business. You may also be apprehensive about identifying as a writer, even though you’ve been publishing online for years. You like to engage with ideas, even dive deep into research, but you are not a researcher. It’s okay to be a regular human who doesn’t fit into a neat and tidy box. Creative writing and curiosity give us the freedom to go in a box to discover what’s inside — or chuck it out altogether. You can do both if you like.
You want to write for and engage with humans. Here’s one thing everyone implicitly agrees with when writing content marketing: It doesn’t matter who writes the stuff. It could be Elena, or Robert, or, nowadays, AI-generated Clara. It works when a company sells a finance tracking app or skincare products, because nobody really cares about the marketing team. They might be great humans, but they are not really relevant in that context. When what you are marketing is technically yourself and your skills, the relationship you want to build with your readers is completely different. It might sound cheesy, but it would be sad to miss out on an opportunity to let them into your wonderful world – a world that they might want to take part in if you let them.

If these five scenarios sound familiar, you’re not alone. Besides giving you permission, I want to reassure you that creative writing most definitely still works and can still lead to business opportunities. If you are craving it, maybe it’s time to lean in with curiosity.
So what now? It might be scary to jump ship, and I can already hear you ask: Where to from here?
In my next essays, I will more about creative writing, publishing impactful long-form content, and how it can connect you with a loyal and fulfilling readership of collaborators, community members, or clients. So if you haven’t yet: Subscribe!
This article was edited by Jordan Parker Reed.
The Lighthouse Library is being built as I write and experiment. If my ideas resonate, you can let me know by liking, commenting your thoughts, sharing, subscribing, and pledging to become a paid subscriber for as little as 5€ per month. Thank you for supporting my work!



I LOVE this! I worked in journalism and PR and I had some kind of burnout bc it was all optimized content and I got really sick of it. I missed that joy writing used to give me. Writing, not ‘creating content’. And that’s why I started writing on Substack. And yes, I had many many questions about what and how I should write here, but I realized if I want to keep that joy in my writing there is only one path…
Thank you for this piece, I will save it and return to it in times of crisis. 😃
Wow, Ely! Once again you blow me away! It's like you peeked inside my soul and put into words what I've been feeling for years. I think I need to re-read this a few times and let it all sink in. Thank you for sharing your beautiful ideas with the world!