001 - Looking Back to Look Ahead
I'm diving into regular writing again, starting with a pop-up newsletter during my Japan trip!
This is Cody Schultz, and you're reading my monthly newsletter, Explorations. As always, one-click unsubscribe. One click, all done, goodbye. Otherwise, welcome.
Wait, What's This All About Again?
The last time I sent an email to this list was on June 4 of 2023. Roughly four months shy of two years. I struggle to believe it's been that long, yet somehow it has. At that time in my life, I just graduated with my masters in English education, and I planned on writing essays on a weekly basis, then consolidating them into something larger in a monthly email. An odd concept, in hindsight, but then again, it was an odd time.
Since then, I have continued with my podcast and have maintained my position as editor of Nature Vision Magazine. I've adopted a digital workflow with the Fuji GFX50s and traveled to the Palouse in Eastern Washington and Yellowstone in Wyoming. Most recently, I started working as a family-based therapist, and I'm planning a trip to Japan later this month.
In other words, I'm in a different mental space — though not entirely and not always for the best — with (slightly) different goals1 and prospects for the future. My primary objective will always be to create fine art books2 of the highest caliber, eventually, but for now, it's time I (finally) start writing at a regular clip.
Call it procrastination, call it laziness, call it a lack of motivation. No matter what you call it, there is no excuse, especially if I wish to call myself a writer, if I claim to enjoy writing more than most anything else. So, I plan to use this monthly newsletter as my primary outlet.
The idea is simple: This newsletter will allow me to write out my various thoughts on different topics, after which I can expand my thoughts on what resonates most with me, forming a proper essay which will then be published on my website. In other words, this is where I get to explore my thoughts and ideas.
If, after my long absence, you no longer wish for my emails to clutter your inbox, or you feel what I have described is too confusing/boring/etc., please do not hesitate to unsubscribe. I only want you here if you genuinely wish to be here.
Alone Atop Mt. Fuji
For my trip to Japan, I will be running a pop-up newsletter. What's a pop-up newsletter, you ask? Craig Mod — arguably the pioneer of such a thing — explains it wonderfully here. The first few paragraphs defines them pretty succinctly:
Most newsletters would benefit from being time-boxed or run in a “pop-up” style. That is: Seasonal, or with a hard stop.
Set a limit of three to six months and pick a frequency — perhaps once or twice weekly? — and a word limit — maybe 500 words? (something you can’t shirk away from, that you could refine in an hour if hard pressed) — and stick to your rules like a madperson.
Ignore how many subscriber you do or don’t get. The goal is to build a habit of writing and publishing. If you successfully pull off the writing, fantastic! Repeat. This is how large bodies of work are produced: Via a consistent, gentle, pinging into the aether of humanity.
Okay, but why do this for the Japan trip?
It's quite simple, really. This is my first time traveling internationally, my first time away from home for two weeks on my own, and, most importantly, my first time in Japan. If for no other reason, I want to document this journey, both through my photography and through my writing. A pop-up newsletter allows me to communicate with my family back home — as well as with whoever else cares enough to sign up — and share what I'm doing, what I'm seeing, and what I'm thinking.
In a way, it allows me to feel just a little bit less alone.
From 17 February until 3 March, I will be wandering through the snowy landscape of Japan. I'll land in Tokyo, stay the night to explore and gain my footing, and then take the train to my hotel in Nagano, where I'll likely remain until I catch my flight home. Unlike most who travel somewhere new for the first time, I don't care to see the tourist attractions. I don't need to see Mt. Fuji or the deer in Nara, adorable as they may be. Rather, I want to immerse myself within the culture and avoid the crowds the best I can. Depth, not breadth.
If you'd like to join me on this trip, you can subscribe to my pop-up newsletter, Alone Atop Mt. Fuji, by clicking here.
Each night, after returning to my hotel, I’ll write up my various thoughts, throw in some (likely unedited) photographs, and send it into the void. I’m not entirely sure how long each missive will be. Maintaining a 500-word minimum is likely a smart idea; that doesn’t seem like a lot of words — not right now, while I’m in the mood to write, while I’m decently rested — but after a long day of exploring, the excuses are all too easy to make. After all, this section is just over that minimum, and I feel I’m rambling at this point.
Anyway, if you have any questions about any of this, feel free to respond to this email. I'll do my best to reply back in a timely manner.
— C
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My primary life goal, so to speak, has remained consistent over the past few years. If I have it my way, I'll own a quaint cabin in the woods, set on a hundred acres or so, far away from society. I'll build out a large garden and I'll spend my days reading, writing, and creating. ↩
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It's important not to think of the books I wish to create as your typical photography monograph. Rather, I look to Craig Mod for inspiration, in that he is making a book which is fabulous to hold, as well as being beautifully printed. A book which includes both text and photograph, which tells a story, which guides you through a place/thought/idea. ↩