I'm already tired of Ghost

It's been, what, three days of moving my blog to Ghost(Pro)? I'm already off it.

The whole idea was that I no longer want to worry about hosting or building or managing my blog. I want it easy and pleasant. I want an editor that does more than just let me type some Markdown. Ghost gives me all that, so what's the problem?

When I log in to Ghost, the first thing I see is a graph of how many member signups I've been getting. Then there's something about "engagement". Then below that are a bunch of articles on how to get more subscribers and convince them to pay me.

I'm not interested in collecting subscribers, and yet that's the entire reason Ghost exists, if we're being honest. It's off-putting.

I'm currently on the entry-level "Starter" subscription, which is $11/month. I could save a couple of bucks by paying for a year in advance, but I've learned that this never actually ends up saving me money, so monthly it is. The Starter plan is just that. I don't get custom themes or integrations. I can't tweak much of anything. Of course this was the whole idea, right? Pay someone to deal with hosting while also preventing me from wasting my time futzing with templates and whatnot.

Except I already feel hamstrung. I want a better archive page, for example. Nope, I get what I get with whatever basic themes come with the Starter subscription. Ugh, I don't know if I will be able to deal with the constraints. I want the constraints, but I hate them.

I could self-host a Ghost instance. It would be cheaper and I could do anything I want with it. Except then I'm back in do-it-yourself mode and living in futzville. Ugh.

As I sit here staring at this post, I'm worrying about whether I should trigger the email when posting. That's also kind of what Ghost is for, but I don't want to spam peoples' inboxes with every little thing I post here. Now I've got another decision to make every single time I post something. More ugh.

A deep breath and some time is required before I knee-jerk my way back to Kirby.

π