Liv Jarrell, 29, has been living in sunny state of Texas since 2023 – the same year she joined Substack. It would be a while, however, before Liv would start sharing the beauty of her brain with the world with postscriptbyliv.
She was “quiet observer” on Substack before really showing up. Perhaps the energy of her new home incited this calling to write, an energy that bleed into her growing readership?
Wanting a change of scenery, and a cheaper rent bill, Liv left Washington, D.C. two years ago for the lively, young and “up and coming” Austin. When we chatted last month, Liv told me that on April 8 she had 100 subscribers. By our conversation on April 25, she was at 1500. At this time of writing, she is at over 3000. There is an undeniable magnetism to Liv’s prose – and everyone is noticing.
Just like the city where she now resides, postscriptbyliv is rapidly up and coming too.
slow burn
Before Substack, writing was a way of documenting for Liv in 2018 when she joined the Peace Corps.
She says she applied to go anywhere and was placed in Lesotho, a landlocked country in Southern Africa, where she taught English and sex education to primary age students.
She says, “There is a lot of downtime, typically, that comes with being a Peace Corps volunteer. So I started to get into creative writing.”
Liv began journaling with intention.
She said to herself:
I’m here for a very unique experience for a very limited amount of time. What do I want to take away from this? What do I want to remember?
During this period, she also started a WordPress for her writing.
But her time volunteering for the Peace Corps was cut short — the global evacuation of COVID sent Liv back to the US in March 2020, 18 months into what was supposed to be a 27 month program.
But Liv’s overseas adventures were not over, she eventually applied to grad school in the UK.
But with a stint of unemployment and a dissertation to write, Liv couldn’t keep up with the blog she had begun when she was a Peace Corps volunteer.
When she came back to the US, after completing her Masters’ degree, she thought to revamp her WordPress with a Squarespace blog instead but it didn’t stick.
When she discovered Substack, it was different.
In 2024, Liv made her first post:
We've all experienced that moment of hesitation, the desire to backtrack—a phenomenon that a well-placed postscript gracefully accommodates. It feels liberating when we summon the courage to voice our unfiltered thoughts. All we need is a bit of space.
This realization prompted the creation of postscriptbyliv.
There was a lull for a while over @ postscriptbyliv, but as of January 2025, Liv has connected with a growing corner of the internet.
Liv says, “It was a slow burn, but we're getting there.”
hitting publish
What drew Liv to Substack was not the audience—it was the lack of one.
“The thing that was really attractive to me was that none of my friends or family were on it.
“It felt like I had this kind of free space to put my work out there without feeling embarrassed or ashamed.
“I had been trying to do it on Instagram for a little while, and I just found myself so hesitant to hit publish. I’d be like, ‘My sister’s gonna see this’. Or whoever. It’s kind of scary.”
2025 was different.
“I’m not really big into New Year’s resolutions, but [I decided that] if I was going to have one, it was this: I want to start taking it seriously. Not for the desire to have people read my work — but for me. To get comfortable putting it out there.”
In the beginning, Liv says there wasn’t a structure. She was finding her cadence and posting in moments of inspiration.
But her time on Substack has gifted her a stronger identity as a writer.
“I’ve found my voice a little bit more.”
She realised what works for the audience and for her, “Cheekiness with vulnerability, humour with the recognition that life exists in the small things.”
Liv said that Substack “is the perfect space” for these ideas to “come to life.”
Lately Liv has been listening to…
you never really know anyone
“You never really know anyone. That’s something I’ve carried with me for a long time.”
When Liv first came across the word ‘sonder’, it gave substance to a lingering desire within her.
“It’s that realization that every stranger has a complex and unique life that we’ll never, ever be able to understand. And not just strangers, but even the people who are closest to us.”
“They have their own thoughts, their own feelings, their own songs that they sing to themselves, their own loops of thought that they think about in the shower. And we’ll never — we’ll never be able to touch those things.”
She wrote a piece about that feeling and she realised she wasn’t alone.
“It picked up a lot of traction. India Knight included it in her newsletter. She has something like 70,000 subscribers, I believe. So that definitely drove a lot of people to my page.”
But Liv’s writing is achingly poetic and tender. It is no surprise, that this post struck a chord for so many.
I think that’s what drives me to write. Not some lofty ambition to capture the human experience—but the nagging pull of it. The desire to make something out of all these brushed-past lives and unsaid things. To hold space for the stranger I’ll never see again, the fleeting moment that tugged at my chest for no reason I could name. There’s something sacred in noticing. And maybe something even more sacred in not knowing—and still caring anyway.
Sonder reminds me that the world isn’t built around me. That everyone is carrying their own epic—full of grief and joy and contradictions—and that, most of the time, I’ll only ever get the briefest glimpse. But what a thing to glimpse.
writing and resonating
“I think Substack has stuck for me because I don’t treat it with this insane amount of pressure.”
Liv’s day job requires her to edit pages of technical, impersonal jargon.
“Like today, before talking to you, I edited a 15-page report. Very technical jargon. It’s the voice of a brand. It’s mechanical. It’s precise. That’s most of my day.”
“What I love about Substack is I can use my own voice, but I also don’t feel the pressure to edit it until it’s perfect. I don’t think perfection exists on Substack — which I really appreciate.”
“I can be flirty, I can be cheeky, I can be vulnerable — however much I want to be. And I can pull back when I want to, too.”
Her process isn’t always premeditated. It often starts in her notes app.
“Every day I add something new, like, ‘Oh, this could be a good idea.’ Last week I wrote about the ego — I’d been reading ‘A New Earth’ by Eckhart Tolle and thinking about it all week.
How does the ego show up in breakups? In conversations with friends?
So, I’m writing about what I’m inspired by, but I do think about my audience. I’ll ask, ‘Is this palatable?’
At the same time, if it’s not true to what I want to say, I’m not going to publish it.”
Inspiration, Liv said, rarely comes from within the platform itself.
“I love reading what people post but I have such a treasure trove of things I still want to say, I haven’t really needed Substack to spark that yet.”
“I like to find inspiration outside of the digital world. I paint. I make jewelry. I talk to my friends. I get so much just from listening to other people’s lives and wondering, ‘What would I do in their situation?’”
“Even just people watching — I think inspiration is everywhere. And it’s not always when you’re looking for it. There are these little sparks that flare, you just have to catch them at the right time.”
notes & numbers
Liv said that her traction on Substack so far is due, in part, to some well-timed notes.
“People have really taken a liking to my short, cheeky, pithy notes.”
“I think there’s a lot of power in notes that maybe Substack doesn’t emphasize, but we as readers are naturally attuned to consuming content that way.
“We’re used to quick bites of writing.”
“Substack’s for long-form, sure, but I think finding a voice on notes is really important for growth.”
For Liv, notes were a place to be personal and lean into little silliness.
“I was kind of just yapping into the void, honestly. I try to always attach humor to what I say. Even if it’s something more emotional, I’ll twist it a bit.
“It’s a mix of wit and poeticism - part confession, part joke.”
But Liv is starting to realise that her words carry weight, too.
“I deflect a lot with humor, I use it as a tool. So when people started saying they were deeply moved by my writing, it hit me. I realised if there’s power in what I’m writing, that’s a responsibility. They’re subscribing for more of that, so I want to keep that resonance alive.”
In her latest post, loving the world is breaking my heart, Liv begun:
Earlier this week, I accidentally orchestrated a one-two punch of emotional devastation, delivered via podcast. Totally casual. No warning. No Kleenex in sight.
Liv isn’t afraid to wade into the waters of vulnerability, she sees a lightness in the dark. So why not join her over at postscriptbyliv?
Liv’s Loves: Substack Recommendations
Emma Lou Cogan: cheeky, funny, relatable, fashion & style content <3
Archaeology for Poets: storytelling, travelling, handicraftsmen and artisans <3
airplane mode: unapologetically millennial feminist - political commentary but make it fun <3
An honourable mention from Liv: my newslettter’s first Substack creator interview: a twenties pov <3
 | A guest post by
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kirsten!! this feels like such a love letter—not just to my writing, but to this whole strange, glittery season of showing up and seeing what blooms. thank you for making space for my story, and telling it with such care. so glad we met through substack 💐🫶🏼
Omg 💓 what an honour! Liv; your words are so pure, it’s no wonder the world is listening. Grateful to be in your orbit / ecosystem of inspiration - the feeling is mutual!
What a gorgeous interview x