This is something I’ve been putting off for a long time.
Even as I type these words, I can already feel my nervous system firing.
First and foremost, I consider myself a writer. Years before I ever picked up a microphone - dating back to my childhood - I routinely filled the pages of my journals with fleeting thoughts on worldly events, miniature fictional stories, and emotionally charged diary entries centered on the classic suspects of teenage angst.
In school, my teachers often complimented me on my writing. As the son of two newspaper writers and editors, writing is in my blood. It’s always come naturally to me, and I’ve adored this art form my entire life. Whether it’s handwritten thank-you notes to friends, letters to pen pals, love notes to girlfriends, or blog posts originating from random creative writing prompts, a blank page has always called to me more than any other form of artistic expression. Paired with a love for sharing my art with the world, this writing obsession has led to hundreds (thousands?) of blog posts through the years posted on all kinds of platforms, including Substack, where I regularly wrote until leaving the platform in early 2024.
After that tough decision, I stopped writing altogether.
No more lengthy morning writing sessions. No more obsessing over proper punctuation and sentence structure. No more turning over every last word a thousand times until I felt I’d perfectly conveyed my intended message.
Because at this time, a few months prior to launching “Seacoast Stories,” I had found myself descending into madness.
After a then-recent diagnosis of type 1 diabetes, a long bout with bronchitis-turned-pneumonia, a gut-wrenching breakup with a woman I’d chased across the world. and a move to Portsmouth, N.H., my writing had taken a bizarre turn.
To my loyal readers (I had several hundred), I sounded crazy. I received tons of messages from people concerned about my safety, said in that same nervous tone we use when we’re seriously worried whether someone finds themselves on the brink of self-harm.
After hurting the feelings of several close to me via my writing (and damaging my reputation in the process), I decided to stop.
I think the beauty of art is that we’re given permission to express ourselves however we see fit in that moment.
I think that’s also the curse of art.
Because I feel so comfortable releasing my innermost thoughts to the world through this medium - thoughts that aren’t always the prettiest - I can often inflict damage on those around me when I share my fleeting thoughts with the world. When those feelings spill out onto the page, they cathartically leave my body, but they remain with others.
I stopped writing to stop hurting others, and to save me from myself.
So, then, why am I returning to it?
Well, a few reasons (😅):
First, I miss it. Desperately. Writing was my first love, and I’ve felt a gaping hole creatively since I put the pen (or keyboard) down in early 2024.
Secondly, it’s cathartic. These thoughts need to live somewhere outside of my head, and I find it’s far more effective when I release them publicly as opposed to in a journal. Plus, this way, others can read my thoughts and know they’re not alone in case they share similar ones.
Thirdly, I adore the routine of it. Sitting at my computer in the early morning - before the noise of the outside world kicks in - with a cup of piping hot coffee at my side is actually paradise. Right now, I’m craving activities that force me to lose all sense of time. Thankfully, writing still provides that avenue for me.
Fourthly, and most importantly, I feel more mentally stable than I ever have before (thank GOODNESS), and that’s largely thanks to YOU.
Since starting “Seacoast Stories” in June 2024, the people of the Seacoast have embraced me more than I anticipated. I feel so much clarity personally and professionally because of how you’ve received my work, and as a result, I’m a much happier version of myself, which will result in writing (hopefully) that doesn’t make me sound crazy.
So, what can you expect with this Substack newsletter moving forward?
Sure, the easy stuff. When we release a new podcast, announce the next Dinner Club location, or reveal our next big live event, we’ll let the newsletter audience know.
Beyond that, I’ll publish posts that are uniquely mine. Maybe I’ll take you behind-the-scenes of the podcast and the business, or maybe I’ll discuss something personal that’s completely unrelated to the podcast. The original plan is to publish these once or twice per month, but knowing me, I’m sure that will escalate quickly. Many of you have expressed a desire in wanting to know more about me, so I’ll use the newsletter as the best medium for that.
To receive an email from us, you can subscribe to the newsletter for free.
Additionally, many of you have inquired about how you can directly support the show financially. I’ve made this my full-time job within the last six months, and I’m committing myself to earning a full-time income alongside the time commitment. And as a single diabetic artist in Portsmouth … I’ve got my work cut out for me 😅.
If you’d like to directly support me in my mission of bringing the Seacoast closer together via the podcast, social media channels, events, dinners, and newsletter, you can sign up below, where you’ll also learn about the additional benefits you’ll receive for your contributions.
Thank you so much in advance for all of your support.
Season 4 starts tomorrow with two brand new episodes.
I’ll talk to you soon.