Hello and welcome.
Last year I quit posting stories to Medium, an online publishing platform that’s housed much of my personal work over the last five years. I did this for a few reasons, all of which I had to explain to thousands of fans who noticed my silence, flooded my electronic and physical mailboxes, and threatened to harm my loved ones if I failed to produce more words.
Dear reader,
I apologize for my lack of new work. Medium is Big Tech and I’m fighting against tyrannical hedge funders by erasing my digital footprint.
Best,
The Writer Formerly Known As Austin
Dear reader,
Sorry for ghosting you these past few months. I recently joined CROSSFIT, the fitness cult, and while I’ve chiseled my body into a STRONG AND AERODYNAMIC VESSEL, my brain has suffered adverse effects from a LACK OF OXYGEN and Scarface-level amounts of PRE-WORKOUT.
STAY JUICED,
AUSTIN
Dear reader,
I am a husk of my past self. The Plague has flushed my ambition and I’ve taken a brief pause from writing to focus on other things, like getting out of bed.
Pray for me,
Austin
Here’s what actually happened. Last year I moved to Fort Collins, Colorado, an elevated province where you can make out with your dog in public and no one will bat an eye. For a few months I delivered grocery bags to the doorsteps of large suburban homes while half-heartedly finishing my degree online. I hiked some mountains. I grew an appreciation for birds. I covered an election and monitored right-wing extremists. I joined a sustainability startup and learned the extent to which our food chain is fucked. I bought a camera. I got a job at a brewery slinging beers, photographing them for Instagram, and smiling as people tell me I look too young to work at an establishment that serves alcohol. I acquired a pair of cute but demonic kittens who love to cuddle and shred the leaves of my houseplants with their tiny paw scythes. For every book I read, I added one to my list. For every mile I ran, I drank a beer. For every friend I made, I missed another. Over time I got caught up in the weird and underwhelming slog that is post-graduate life, and at some point, I stopped writing. No one seemed to care, and that was enough to keep me from continuing.
But as I began to write for other people and their businesses, I realized how much I missed doing it for myself. Apparently it’s “abhorrent” and “vile” to insert dirty jokes and crass sarcasm into website copy, a stance I disagree with but must obey to avoid eviction. So I’m bringing that here. In spaces like Substack (and Medium, before it went full Venture Capitalist), no outlet, brand, or board of overpaid executives separates Writer from Reader, which means I get to snuggle in and be closer to you if you opt to subscribe.
What will I be writing about? The same thing I always have: whatever the fuck I want. I’ll write about the dumb and great things I see on the internet and in real life. I’ll write about books I like and people I hate. I’ll expand on my tweets, because long-form shitposting is an underemployed genre. I’ll respond to your letters and comments if you choose to write them. I’ll dust off my journalism background and delve into obscure but important topics: Who invented pillows? Is Kristi Noem a cyborg? Where do babies come from? I’M GON’ LEARN YOU SOM’. And I’m gon’ learn me som’ too, because I’ll also probably write about my FEELINGS, since therapy is expensive.
My mom always says “Something is funny as long as one person laughs, even if that one person is you.” (It stuck — she’s raised four children who laugh at their own jokes while tablemates trade looks of discomfort.) I think the same goes for caring about something. As long as one person cares about something, it matters, even if you’re the only one who cares about it. There’s a good chance that I’m the only person who cares about this newsletter. I don’t have thousands of fans and thousands of death threats (yet), and I don’t need them. All I need is a blank page, a platform, and my silly little keyboard.
Thank you for being here, even if you won’t be back. But if you plan to be, subscribe below:
We missed your writing and we are so fortunate that you are sharing your knowledge, humor, thoughts and feelings with us. Reading your words is our therapy. ❤️
Jealous of u (for making out with ur dog)