A Heartfelt Tidbit

Update: In January 2026, I returned to Substack and learned a valuable lesson once and for all: NEVER try to monetize an email newsletter.

I launched the first iteration of this newsletter 951 days ago and—aside from crafting and selling Leverage—writing for you all has been the highlight of my professional career.

Of course, that speaks volumes about the atrocious industries and abysmal bosses I’ve suffered during my strange and surreal life, but I’d also like to think it’s a testament to the quality of the work I’ve done and the breadth of the community we’ve built.

As a scientist by nature, this newsletter has always served as my digital laboratory. I’ve experimented with a wide array of styles, formats, and story concepts, collaborated with brilliant and fascinating people, and fucked around and failed at monetization—multiple times.

I’ve learned a ton along the way, and this newsletter will continue to evolve in the future. But the one thing which has remained constant is the satisfaction I derive from the craft of writing. I love this shit, and I love this little online niche, and as long as my extraordinary and indulgent wife is willing to float my ludicrous literary lifestyle, I plan to keep pumping out this ludicrous and profitless newsletter.

This publication is a so-called labor of love, but it’s also one of necessity.

Beset by algorithms, enshittification, and oligarchs, social media is broken. Over the past two years I’ve reluctantly created and enthusiastically killed accounts on Twitter, Instagram, and Threads. I’m not famous, willing to operate in bad faith, or desperate enough to show off my dad bod, which means those tools can’t, or won’t, work for me.

Beset by advertising, clickbait, and oligarchs, traditional media is broken. I have a better chance of playing for the New York Knicks than publishing a piece of humor or fiction in The New Yorker, and even if I could land a once coveted writing credit from an august publication like The New York Times or The Atlantic, it’d amount to fuck all in terms of money or downstream book sales.

The digital ecosystem and the digital economy are a goddamned mess, but this crazy little online newsletter is mine, and this crazy little community of readers and writers is ours.

As of today, this newsletter has almost 1,500 subscribers. If Leverage finds the kind of commercial success I hope—and believe—it can, that figure could climb much higher.

Whatever happens down the line, I won’t forget that you incredible peeps were the early adopters and the original gangsters. Roughly 20% of the readers who received this post have been riding alongside me for over two years, and about 55% of you maniacs have been enjoying the madness for more than one. That’s gratifying and humbling.

In many ways, the fun’s just getting started. I sincerely appreciate all of you for supporting me on this exciting and unpredictable odyssey.

Looking ahead, I’m confident 2025 will be another fantastic year. I’m cooking up tons of killer “content” plus I’ll be reviewing several kickass novels, including surefire bangers from Lincoln Michel in May and Dennard Dayle in June.

Of course, barring catastrophe, on Tuesday, August 19, I’ll graduate from “unemployed rando with an email newsletter” to “unemployed rando with an email newsletter and a hella fun and darkly funny novel for sale at your favorite bookstore.”

Demise of The Republic notwithstanding, it’s gonna be a wild AF year.

I hope everyone has a safe, enjoyable holiday season.

As always, stay frosty out there.