Why, hello.

Originally, Where Is This Going was meant to be a fiction newsletter, something to motivate me into writing a short story or some chapters of a novel, and an exercise in creating enough tension and intrigue for readers that they'd consider coming back to read more. That idea was scrapped, though, when I realized that I’d essentially be giving my stories to Substack. My stories are destined for other great mediums, like the Google docs I start then lose track of.

So this space has instead been devoted to nothing, until now. Because of the novel coronavirus outbreak, I’ve been home socially distancing for nearly two weeks. I am bored. I am sad, though I fluctuate wildly between “can barely move” depression to “hurl myself around the apartment listening to this oddly good, basic Spotify punk playlist” mania. I need something to do besides work, which I’m lucky to be able to perform from home, and my life’s most consistent hobby, watching TV.

These are scary, unprecedented times and to be outright, I don’t think my thoughts are particularly valuable. I am, and I say this with probably too much self-acceptance, a gigantic dummy. But that’s why this newsletter is free.

Essentially, this will be a slightly more organized LiveJournal, only I’m no longer a 19-year-old depressive attending community college in my hometown. I’ve grown, blossomed even, into a 33-year-old depressive with recent breakout of red, patchy skin on the right side of my face…and living in NEW YORK CITY, baby! How far I’ve come! There will be controlled topics like “MOVEMENT,” “GORE,” “COMMUNITY CATS,” “PICKING HAIRCUTS FOR MY FRIENDS,” and some other (hopefully fun!) culture stuff.

If that’s not for you, I understand. Please check out some other newsletters instead, like the one Dayna Evans writes about women and bread, Ellie Shechet’s hilarious and grim lists, or Kate Dries’s chronicles of making all the recipes in her family cookbook.

Be well and bye for now.