How a Free Plan and Quiet Launch Killed My Motivation

A month ago, I built a tool called Threddr. It was supposed to help indie founders find early users by watching Reddit. Not the way marketers do it, but the way real people use Reddit.

People ask for help there all the time. They’ll literally say "is there a tool that does X?" And most of the time, the replies are dead, irrelevant, or drowned under spam.

But what I noticed was... those questions? They were goldmines for builders. If you had something relevant, you could genuinely help someone and get your first users without begging or promoting. So I thought, what if there was a tool that did the scanning for you?

Threddr was my answer. It would monitor subreddits, surface posts that matched what your product did, and even help you draft a helpful reply. Not copy-paste junk. Just something natural to start the conversation.

I believed in the idea. It felt like a missing link. So I built it, launched it quietly, and waited.

Where I messed up?

I decided to make it free. Not just a trial. A real, usable free plan.

I told myself it would lower friction, get more people in the door, help me collect feedback, and eventually I’d figure out monetization once I saw what users loved.

But what actually happened was this: People signed up, used it a little, and disappeared. No messages. No feedback. No churn notices. Just silence.

When a user doesn’t pay, they’re not invested. They don’t have expectations. They don’t owe you their time. And most of the time, they won’t tell you why they left. I couldn’t tell if Threddr was useful, broken, boring, or just invisible.

And the silence started to mess with me.

I stopped building. I stopped talking about it. My motivation faded fast. And instead of pushing through, I looked for something new to build. Something I could believe in again, temporarily.

I had also convinced myself the idea would go viral on its own.

I imagined people would share it. I thought the Reddit angle was unique enough to stand out.

But that never happened. Not because it was a bad idea. But because no one knew it existed. I barely talked about it. I didn’t show people what it did. I didn't make noise. And in Jun 2025, a good idea in silence is as good as nothing.

What I learned from it all?

• Free users are a bad signal. Not because they’re bad people. They’re just not committed. If something doesn't work, they won't tell you. They'll just stop showing up.

• Feedback doesn't come automatically. You have to create conditions where people care enough to give it. That usually means they need to pay or really need what you built.

• Marketing is the actual work. I still hate that, but it's true. Talking about what you’re building, over and over, is just as important as building it. Probably more.

• Motivation is fragile when it's based on other people's reactions. If you tie your energy to upvotes, messages, or numbers, you’ll burn out fast. The only way to keep going is to find a reason to show up even when no one claps.

If I had to do it again

I'd launch paid from day one. Maybe a small one-time price. Maybe a cheap monthly plan. But something.

I'd go super niche. Maybe only scan 3 subreddits. Maybe only work for certain tools.

I'd talk about it while building, not just after. Show examples, share results, ask for opinions. Even if it feels like shouting into the void.

And I'd keep showing up. Even when it’s quiet.

Because now I know...

Silence isn’t just bad feedback. It’s the thing that kills most products.