Ask Me (Almost) Anything
Mark the date: August 30
Before I get into the details, I’m about to shit on an entire genre of writers.
Actually, wait. I’m sending this to everyone all at once, so if you’re already a paying subscriber ignore the pitch part and just mark the date.
Back to the shitting on. I was never fond of those who made their blogging career out of sharing every sordid detail about their families and friends. They would detail every aspect of their children’s lives, their friendships, relationships, and even their sex lives, putting it all online. And once it’s on the internet, it’s there forever.
Imagine being a kid growing up where your parent detailed everything for an audience of several thousand, or even millions. Those kids don’t even have the maturity to grant permission, not that the parent asked. I don’t respect those writers, and I feel sympathy for those who had their private lives put online without their consent.
I am not one of those writers. You may notice that I very infrequently mention my family at all, except in passing, and only in positive terms. Yes, we have our struggles like any other family, but that shit is private. I don’t talk about it online. Ever.
But other than that, you can ask me anything. If you pay.
Paying subscribers get a deeper look into the life and thoughts and vulnerabilities of James, because some people want that. Just yesterday I published a 1,700-word piece about some negative shit that went down on my Facebook page that really pissed me off. I didn’t want to publicly post about it, so I made it for subscribers only. If you want to read that post, click the button:
There are plenty more posts like that for paying subscribers. You want deep secret shit? There is a post titled “The Story I’m Afraid to Tell on Facebook” about a time I found a dead body, except it’s more than that.
But maybe you don’t give a shit about that. Maybe you want to ask me other stuff, like about writing, or the business of writing, or fitness, or history, or motivation, or adult ADHD, or other shit I might know. Granted, the answer might be “I have no fucking clue.” Then again, it might not.
Just don’t ask about my family. That’s off limits.
Any-fucking-way, I’m going to do an AMAA (the extra A is for “almost”) right here on my Substack at 2pm eastern on Tuesday, August 30. I figure it will go for 90 minutes, and maybe longer if I’m having fun. This first one is going to be text based. You type your question and I type my reply.
If you can’t make that time, there will be others soon. This is going to become a regular thing. Some will be text, some will be Zoom or whatever-the-video-fuck. But the first one may be hilarious because I’ve never done it before.
So click the green button and mark your calendar.
And if you haven’t already, please buy my sweary fucking history book.