Maybe We're Done
Musing
The open and read rate if this newsletter is in gradual decline. I can only blame myself. I must not be talking about things that matter to you. Or, you’re just overloaded and newsletters aren’t the thing any more .But given those two options, I just think I’m not hitting the button for you.
Listen: all my wonderful long term faithful, I know you’ll want to reply and say nice things. But you’re always here. This is a touchpoint between the two of us. I’m not saying this about you. You’re here because this is a place we go together.
It’s the everyone else.
Newsletters Need a Very Narrow Focus
I get it. It’s dark and blurry here. I write about what I think might help you see the world and business differently. But I go all over the place when I do this. I review my topics often, and they’re fairly far ranging. To me, that’s clever.
It’s horrible, if you are to read and believe in the SEO-ification of our brainhead parts.
I’m supposed to talk nonstop forever about one thing and keep it fresh and give you a familiar angle of attack over and over. And in that, I’ve failed you completely.
Because I write about varied topics, though with a similar thread: how to apply a human approach to your business and other pursuits. The narrowing only reaches as far as: using technology to drive better human interactions. But that’s it.
I Don’t Read a Lot of Newsletters, Either
(This picture is hilarious: it’s a failed selfie in the dark using flash, but uh, too much flash.)
Very few of us sit around reading any more. We consume video, audio, voice. We chew on small bite content like reels and tweets. The rare times we feel driven to sit and read, it had best be something enriching, but maybe also something that scratches a really specific itch.
My day to day work is pretty exciting: I’m writing code with robots. I’m helping companies find the boring and repetitive parts of their jobs and automating them so they can focus. And I’m creating and creating and creating, because one thing’s for certain about me over the decades: I am prolific in creation, in many forms.
But I don’t think it’s something most people want to read about it. In fact, I was talking last wednesday with my business colleagues and said, “Of all the technologies I’ve ever been deeply certain will change the world, this one (AI, I mean) is the first time I’ve ever seen masses of humans push back against it.
And so, the thing I’m spending a lot of time on happens to be something most people don’t seem to want yet, and least of all, don’t want to read about it.
I’ll Just Chase Ideas Around And Make Them Serve
I started blogging in 1998. One day I stopped.
I started my first YouTube channel in 2005. (I haven’t stopped.)
I’ve started and stopped almost a dozen podcasts. I have a live video show every Friday.
I started a newsletter in January 2009. Maybe it’s run its course.
Creativity is a terrible curse, because when you produce material, it only “works” if someone reacts. It’s a two way street. And to make it and sense deeply that it’s not hitting just invites you to go off and try other things.
I like making things. I make new things all the time.
I’m going to write another business book. I might (but it’s not looking like it yet) also write a book of fiction, because I have the urge.
The newsletter, though?
I’m really only hearing from the long term friends. And you know how to reach me without me writing this letter.
So, maybe I’m done.
I don’t know.
I’m out wandering around taking photos, making youtube videos, reading books, and talking to robots.
This letter has always been a starting point for communication. Maybe Substack sucks. Whatever happened, it’s pretty quiet these days.
I’ll just go talk to some robots and create in other places.
I think.
I’m not sad about it. I just don’t want to keep writing to myself. I do that without Substack.
Please, if you’re the people I talk to every week, you know where to find me. Don’t talk about this letter. I’m not seeking reassurance. I’m just sorry I couldn’t keep it interesting enough to merit more interactions.
I’ll take my camera for a walk tomorrow. Then, I’ll go work on my book.
Chris…





