Buckle up, Buttercup...

OK, you asked for it… at least a few of you have. Well, what you asked for was a book. “When are you going to write a book?” “You should write a book!” “You know, you could put all these stories together in a book.”

I hate to come up short and disappoint anyone right off the bat*, but I’m not quite ready to write a whole entire book. But I do think it’s time I surpass social media photo captions and dashing off thoughts tapped on a phone screen to something with a little more structure, a bit more permanence, even if still fully digital.

I created this Substack account over a year and a half ago. And it has sat empty and neglected ever since. But today, dear reader — and there’s probably only one or two of you for now, so I’ll keep it in the singular — today is your lucky day. (That is, if you’re looking to add another semi-regular newsletter to your inbox.)

But seriously, I’m doing this for myself more than anyone. I want to use this newsletter format as a place to refine and expand what I’ve written already, some of it already shared, some of it not, in addition to any new material that I create. In July 2024 I attended a writing seminar in Seattle as part of the Glen Workshop, and it was the first time I had ever shared my words with strangers specifically to receive critique. It was scary and affirming at the same time. At this workshop, after I read aloud a short piece about complicated grief entangled in the quick succession of the death of my mother and the collapse of my marriage, my classmates encouraged me to fill in the gaps. Tell us more!, they asked earnestly. Right then, the image of an accordion entered my mind. I had written sparingly, as if to carefully set minimal phrases and thoughts on top of compressed bellows of an accordion. But what could I add to these phrases and thoughts, if I stretched out those bellows to allow room for more? In the Middle of Somewhere is where I’ll pull my arms open, listen for the air seeping into the old squeezebox, take time to fill in the widened grooves, and then slowly bring my hands back together to express whatever has collected.

The title of my Substack, In the Middle of Somewhere, speaks to the stage of life I find myself in: Middle Age, which sounds about as creaky and removed from reality as the Middle Ages. Persiflage. And yet, here I am, age 55. I don’t feel unmoored or abandoned as, say, in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere seemed about right as a descriptor. The title also refers to my love of travel, and I tend to mentally and emotionally process more when I’m traveling Somewhere, and out of my regular routine. Much of what I write is generated either during travel or immediately upon arriving home.

If you’ve made it this far, congratulations! You’ve reached the end of my first newsletter. Thank you for showing up. In all the ways so many of you have shown up for me over the last few years. I hope what I write helps you in some way. Maybe it will encourage you to flex your own vulnerability muscle in whatever manner suits you best. I’ve got a draft of the next newsletter nearly finished, so look for it when the old year passes, and those lads and lasses are hailing the new year. Fa la la.

Cheers, my dears.

B

*Have you ever noticed how hard it is to avoid sports metaphors? I’m a casual-to-medium sports fan so I surely enjoy watching a good game every so often, but my goodness, how sports has permeated every part of our lives.