Promote one thing at a time. Yes, even you.
Here's the uncomfortable arithmetic of fan attention. A follower sees your post, gets interested, and clicks your link. That click is a tiny miracle — most people never click anything — and what happens next decides whether the miracle converts or evaporates.
Show them the thing: some healthy fraction follow through. Show them a menu of nine: that fraction gets divided, not just by the choosing, but by the deciding. Choice is work. Work on a phone, between two other apps, is where intent goes to die. The behavioral-econ people have a shelf of studies on choice overload; your analytics have a simpler version — compare any direct link's conversion to your menu page's, and wince.
The menu feels safe. That's the trap.
A buffet page feels like hedging: "whatever they want, it's on there." But a fan rarely arrives wanting whatever — they arrive because a specific post made a specific promise. The menu breaks the promise politely. They came for the new episode; you answered with a filing cabinet.
And menus rot. The sold-out merch stays up. Last year's tour lingers. Button four is the new thing, but nothing on the page says so. Curation is a chore, so it doesn't happen — not because you're lazy, but because the format demands maintenance that no one's week has room for.
The spotlight rule: if a fan asked "what's new?", you'd say one thing. Your link should give the same answer — this week's answer, not March's.
"But I have multiple things!"
You have multiple things that exist. You almost never have multiple things that deserve this week's push equally — and pretending otherwise means the big thing subsidizes the small ones out of its own conversion rate. Sequence them: spotlight the launch this week, the restock next week. Attention compounds when it's pointed; it dissipates when it's split.
The genuinely-two-things weeks are real but rare, and they're what secondary links are for — a named side-door (/you-merch) you mention where it's relevant, while the main link keeps carrying the headline act.
The mechanics that make it painless
The reason people run menu pages isn't philosophy — it's that updating fifteen bios and nine pinned comments every week is miserable. The fix is structural: keep one stable link everywhere, and change what it points at instead of changing what's posted. Ten seconds of re-aiming beats an afternoon of caption surgery, which is the entire reason this product exists.