I’ve written over the years on a number of topics. I’ve written in defense of books and how to cajole Salesforce (a CRM platform) to do something it’s not quite designed to do. I’ve written a best-selling RPG adventure and about how theology is the hardest subject to teach. I’ve written a master’s thesis about dragon language and … well, we’ll see what comes next.
I did take a bit of a break from serious thinking and writing after my thesis. I don’t regret it—life was tough, I was tired, and time was short.
But I’ve been itching to start again.
I’m not sure quite where I’ll begin, though I am interested in adapting my thesis for publication in an upcoming anthology for which I think it might be a good fit. We shall see!
One issue I foresee with starting this Substack is one that’s plagued me for some time. Call it lack of discipline. Maybe a fear of commitment. Maybe a fear of success.
In a nutshell, I can tend to spend quite a bit of time up front thinking about doing something. I’ll research it to death. Build some tools and frameworks for myself. Some nice structure and metadata. Maybe even jump in with a whole toe.
But I’ll never really fully commit to Doing the Thing.
That’s why I’m writing this all in one go and hitting “Publish” without any preamble, strategy, list, or goals.
Another issue—though this is one that I’m hoping to “solve” with this outlet—is that I’m interested in and by wildly different things. Theology, literature, tabletop RPGs, technology, learning, chess. I enjoyed the operas I’ve been privileged to attend as much as I’ve enjoyed a good baseball game or a solid D&D oneshot or an exciting chess game (yes, they exist).
But that doesn’t lend itself well to having an audience in mind. I’ve yet to find anyone whose interests line up more than halfway with mine, because I can’t seem to settle on what, exactly I’m interested in, beyond the broad bagel category of “everything.”
So I’ll start a niche thing. Only write d20 Digest. Or Maximizing Salesforce (which ended abruptly when I got my current non-Salesforce job). Or a full-fledged website about study tips that’s floating around somewhere on archive.org.
But when I’ve said what I’ve had to say, I stop saying things. And maybe I’ll have more to say down the line, but meanwhile I feel guilty that I’ve abandoned yet another project. Maybe I do find one new thing to say, but don’t want to say it because why post once every few years. And below it all is bubbling an undercurrent of impostor syndrome—who am I, anyway, to be trying to teach anyone anything?
So this is me giving up: I don’t see me creating another niche blog. Yes, I’m breaking all the rules of getting popular online. Make a Publishing Schedule and Stick To It. Launch With Paid Turned On. Make Sure There’s A High-Quality Image and Perfect SEO for Every Post. Cross-Post on Social Media. Find a Niche and Stick To It.
I’m my own niche, as pretentious as that sounds (super pretentious, by the way), and I’m going to do this the way I want, not the way I’m Supposed To. In the words of Hikaru Nakamura, I literally don’t care. Or maybe that was Whitman first.
I’m not here to get popular online. I just want to write. To improve my craft. I’m not here to teach, not this time. At least not on purpose.
I’m just a dude learning things who gets excited about them and wants to share what I’ve learned. My notes are for me, though I’m “working with the window open.” This Substack is for you, whoever you are, even if it’s just three friends and my parents.
I can make no promises about frequency. Or about topic. Or if it’ll be worth reading. Let alone if I’m right about what I’m writing about. Someday I may even (gasp!) attempt fiction or poetry. But in any case, I’ll be learning in public, and you’re welcome to join me for the ride: