What's next, then?
There’s no match today, but there are trains, so you get a dispatch.
My flight isn’t until 5:30pm local time, so instead of revisiting the WaPa while I wander London, I decided to take one more train ride out of the city. I can’t explain why this saves me from the WaPa, but it does. So after consulting a Welshman and a Londoner, I decided to take the train to Bristol. This added one more service, Great Western Railway, to my train count, and another general area of the UK. My train out left at 6:30am and will return to Paddington, where I can catch the Heathrow Express to the airport and still arrive just a touch earlier than necessary for my flight. We love buffers!
The train to Bristol was definitely my favorite of the bunch. It could just because it was mostly empty, but the route was lovely and the trains seemed to be in the best condition, or just the newest. Also, my train had a design on the outside of one car celebrating the victory of England Women’s National team at the Euros in 2022, which always wins points with me.
Similar to the lovely route, Bristol itself was charming. I was moving with a full pack so I spared my shoulders and found a place to store my luggage for a few hours before wandering around the Bristol Harbour area, walking a ways down Prince’s Wharf and back in some lovely sunshine.
Now, before I return to London and then fly home to Boston, I’m typing in a lovely coffee shop in Bristol, and I’d like to take this opportunity to talk about the future. As I mentioned a while ago, I have barely written for five years, or at least, I hadn’t before this trip. And this was after writing freely and consistently for five years prior to that.
To be exact, over the last five years, I haven't been "not writing" in a way that is free of writing. I've been thinking about writing. I've been staring at the page, both literally and figuratively. I've been wondering why the hell it's so fucking hard after it used to be so easy. I've been taking out a metaphorical hair shirt and wearing it every day, like the good lapsed Catholic that I am.
And you know what, it sucks.
I don't want you to think I haven't tried just actually writing. I have. I’ve sat in front of open documents and blank notepads. I've taken classes and managed to squeeze a little writing out of myself. I’ve taken classes and not managed anything at all, other than passing a little cash into the writing ecosystem. I’ve bought ridiculous notebooks and tech doohickeys that I thought might help. I've read books on writing, books on creativity, books about completely unrelated things. I've even tried highly experimental writing laxatives. Just kidding, but only about the last one.
I honestly used to think writer’s block was a myth. Just being too busy, or having different priorities, or dreaming bigger than one’s ability. I didn’t get it. I’m sorry. I don’t think I ever said any of my judgment aloud, but I definitely thought it, and I’m sorry. Because it’s so real. And I don’t know about everyone else, but for me, it physically hurts. When I look directly at my not-writing, it’s more painful than a migraine, physically, than my worst breakup, emotionally. And I simply do not know the solution.
Today, I do know that I’m really tired of this. I'm quite frankly, if you'll forgive the vulgar cliche, at a “shit or get off the pot" kind of place. Either I'm going to get back to some form of consistent writing, whatever that looks like today, in 2025, when everything seems to be literally and metaphorically on fire, or I'm going to put the hairshirt back in storage and walk away. Maybe not forever, but for a spell.
Now, see, the thing is, I've been saying even this, what I just said above, for much of the last year. So, not only does it seem like a pretty empty threat, it's also getting pretty tired itself.
So all of that is prelude to the topic at hand. These dispatches have really helped me get into the swing of things. If you’re up for it, I might continue to send them, though probably more like weekly than daily.
Here’s what I’m thinking, and what I’m proposing:
I’m not asking for cheerleaders, nor am I seeking to “grow my audience.” I just need someone(s) to whom I feel like I owe something. Specifically, I want to owe you something: words. Catholicism is a powerful drug, no matter how lapsed one might be, and the guilt of feeling like I owe you a newsletter update will, I believe, actually help.
Now here comes all the caveats, along with some questions and participation requests:
First, I'm not committing to anything in regards to topics. Once upon a time it was a fake advice column. After that, it was a fake data column. Apparently I'm really into fake writing. This time, I'm just going to go on vibes.
Everything is awful. From time to time, I might, maybe, possibly, but honestly probably not, write about or around the awful, and in that case, I will flag that I'm about to do so. If you're trying not to engage with unnecessary content around how awful everything is, you can skip that one. But to be frank, I don't want to engage with unnecessary content about how everything is awful either, so generally, I'm not going to focus on the funeral pyre of democracy burning around us. I will make little jokes like that, but I probably won’t write newsletters ABOUT it.
Topics you might expect: a lot of overthinking in general, but maybe in particular overthinking about sports, Lego sets, the exercise app that is currently gaslighting me but I already paid for upfront so I’m committed, my dog, my plants, or whatever I just learned from wikipedia. If I’m feeling really spicy, I might even do some fiction. I’m leaving it purposely open ended to try to reduce any excuses I might dredge up from the depths to avoid writing.
Lastly, for timing, I'm thinking once a week. How does that sound?
If you're game to be my word-creditors and lend me your patience, or at least room in your inbox, I will be your word-debtor and keep you on the mailing list.
If getting random thoughts from me once a week sounds awful, please feel empowered to unsubscribe, no questions asked, no hard feelings.
If you want to opt out, but want me to let you know if I get back to my data nonsense? Reply to this email and let me know.
If there's any topic you want to hear me ramble about? Reply to this email and let me know.
If you have any other thoughts? Yep, reply to this email and let me know.
Who knows. Maybe this will work. Or maybe you will get to see the dying embers of my writing as it fades into little charred bits of carbon.
Either way, sounds like an adventure?
Final Count:
10 matches
12 days
40 trains
12 different train services
2,247 miles traveled by train
24,891 words in 17 dispatches, ish
194,171 steps for 98.86 miles, if my watch is to be believed