My son died eight days ago after eight months in the NICU. I keep vacillating between a sort of dull despondency and a passion to start a new project.
Grief is really strange.
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The app for independent voices
Substack is in danger of collapsing under its own weight. There are just too many worthy accounts here now to expect readers to cough up $5 for every writer they want to read. There needs to be some kind of subscription/revenue sharing mechanism so subscribers aren’t constantly asked for money for every damned article they’d like to read. Sell tokens. Punchcards. Come on, SS, INNOVATE ALREADY.
I will never, ever, ever get tired of living 700 feet from this waterfall.
I think it takes me exactly three minutes to walk here from my front porch. How the hell did I get so lucky?
You made it, you own it
You always own your intellectual property, mailing list, and subscriber payments. With full editorial control and no gatekeepers, you can do the work you most believe in.
I along with my wife, and seven others were confirmed into full communion with the Catholic Church at Easter Vigil on Saturday evening. It was a beautiful service full of celebration and joy. We all felt truly loved and welcomed.
It sounds cliche but I really feel like I have come home.
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The truth about this autism database proposed by RFK Jr…
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