Welcome to my Substack
Happy New Year. And if you aren’t convinced that 2022 is a new year, or if happiness is as elusive as a COVID-19-free world, well, I guess I’ll just wish you. I wish you whatever you wish for yourself. Maybe a better year.
I took some time off between my first story and now. I don’t think unpaid subs got an email about it, so if you missed it, here is how many successful death claims have been made to Ontario’s WSIB for workplace-aquired COVID-19 infection resulting in death.
I’m technically still off. Or, I’m technically, technically never off, or on, as I exist in a space where I am both always off or on, depending on what I agree to writing. So I’m both. I’m a leaky faucet, but I hope that the rhythm of the drips stirs something in you to move (and not like what I think is mostly what we imagine a leaky faucet to me — wasteful and mind-numbing dripping). Why did I just write that?
This post isn’t a story (like, obviously). It’s to tell you what you can expect from this experiment.
I’m going to continue to write for Passage. I’ve stopped writing for the Washington Post mostly due to a lack of time, but I’ll probably keep sending things to them when I feel like it. But aside from these two steady locations, writing opinion can be really difficult to place. There are just too few locations to write in Canada, especially when there are more outlets who formally refuse to publish me than who welcome my pitches but who may or may not bite. It’s become way too challenging to place stories consistently, and so, I’ve come here.
If you are an unpaid sub, I promise you’ll always get my writing that serves a public interest. If you’re a paid sub, I promise a few extras — like recipes and my innermost thoughts. For the founding supporters, I might even send you fiction. And if it’s the case that these things are not what you want, the unpaid subs will get fiction and the paid subs will get every swear word I can think of when dealing with freedom of information requests. I hope that’s an ok deal.
But really, this place won’t be for opinion. It’ll be for stories that I simply cannot publish anywhere else. Features, even. Your payment will help me hire an editor to ensure that longer stories that need someone to kick me in the ribs with their “uhh no” marginalia will have someone available. Steeltoed boots, a requirement of the job.
I can’t say thank you enough for you signing up already. And I’ll need your help to share what I write too, so I hope you’ll be able to do that (maybe not this. Or hell, this especially). But otherwise — I promise to send you something that is readable, that rarely surpasses 600 words (uhh) and that will stick my finger into parts of your brain that you’ve never really felt before. Can you believe a promise like that? Well, let’s see.
And, to prove that I’m not kidding about recipes …
How to poach an egg perfectly, every time (seriously) 1. boil some water 2. get a little bowl (plastic, melamine, silicone etc. --- probably not glass but I've never tried glass) and place it in the boiling water like a boat 3. pour a little bit of milk or whatever into the boat (cover the boat floor) and watch it dance around the boiling water for a few seconds. 4. crack some eggs into the bowl boat. Don't miss. 5. capsize your boat immediately following the delivery of the egg payload. This does not need to be elegant. Don't burn your fingers. Remove the boat bowl. 6. wait till the milk or whatever boils up and almost over (for soft eggs) or longer for hard ones (this really doesn't take much time. A few minutes and not more than 6.) 7. fish out your perfectly poached eggs. Tip: fresh eggs will keep their shape. Less fresh eggs will sometimes look like won-tons -- with the yoke as the nest of the dumpling and your whites trailing behind. This only matters if you're trying to impress someone because otherwise the taste is obviously the same.
Be in touch any time with your tips, your praise or your criticism. I appreciate you all so much.