It’s been a couple of months since I started this newsletter. Two and a half, if you fancy being accurate (which I almost never do, especially when cooking chilli, mixing Bloody Marys, or sticking to a budget). If you’re a paying subscriber, you’ll know I’ve spent a chunk of that time going back and forth on my ideas about the direction I want to take my business in from now on. If you’re a free subscriber, you may have forgotten you signed up in the first place. Sorry about that. It’s been a hot second, I know.

Writing again has been fucking marvellous, although it’s strange that most of my words lately have been confessional. Gives you a vulnerability hangover of sorts. Sure, I used to write similar things in my old newsletter, but it was smattered between how-to articles and spicy takes on sales copy, and I also had my shit somewhat more together back then. (Mmm, pandemic brain, am I right?) So the confessions weren’t as teeth-suckingly uncomfortable to share. No, no, that makes it sound like I’m not enjoying it. I am! I’m having a great time right this very second! Honest!!! Plus I get to write about my favourite topic all the time: me. Or maybe writing? Who can say.

Anyway, as you may have gathered from the headline of this post, I’ve decided to take a short break from writing Clattermouth. That’s because instead of sharing my every squirming thought with my paying subscribers, I want to get some shit done so I have something more interesting and/or helpful to talk about. Like, I know I said this wouldn’t necessarily be an inspiring ride, and that I felt like I was starting over from the beginning (actually, maybe I didn’t say that), but wouldn’t it be nice if I truly accomplished something and then told you how I did it? You know, like the good old days? Hmm. I think so too.

If you’re a paying subscriber, don’t worry: I’m going to pause billing, so you won’t be charged for my time away, and your subscription will be extended by the amount of time I’m gone for. You’ll also still be able to access the archive, on the (extremely high, I like to think) chance you want to revisit what I’ve already written. Free subscribers, you won’t be able to sign up as a paid subscriber until my return. Boo.

So, what shit am I going to get done? Well, I’ll tell ya, in the vaguest way possible. I recently shared with my paying subscribers my (final, no seriously, for real this time) plans for the business. The good news is that I have not since changed my mind again. A record! I made that sound like there was going to be bad news, too, didn’t I? Well, there isn’t, unless you count being without my newsletter for a while. Okay, I take your point. Anyway, those plans are what I’m going to be working on during this brief hiatus. I want to be able to focus on getting everything set up without panicking that I haven’t sent a newsletter for nine days.

Upon my return, you can expect—

Well, I won’t say too much now, because there’s a strong likelihood I’ll fiddle with the details while I’m in the thick of ‘em, and I don’t need to do anything else to add to my newly burgeoning reputation as an indecisive fuckwit. But suffice it to say, there will be a new website with all new content, plus my first new offering(s) in three years, which probably will not be a sacrificial lamb laid upon the altar of the god of bazillionaires. I’ll also announce Clattermouth’s new schedule, because I really should’ve listened to myself when I wrote on my about page these precise words: ‘I can’t stick to a schedule to save my life.’ They were also included in the very first edition of Clattermouth btw, so, you know… you can’t say I didn’t warn you. *strolls away whistling*

See you in a few weeks(ish),
Kaz

P.S. While I’m gone, I recommend amusing yourself with this just-the-punctuation tool, which removes all the letters and numbers from your writing and shows you what’s left. Whack about 6,000 words in for a good-sized sample. This article by the tool’s creator is also fascinating. Here’s the punctuation from the first few chapters of my zombie apocalypse novel:

That’s right. My protagonist doesn’t know what the fuck is happening.

And here’s the first few editions of Clattermouth:

Yes, I have an affinity for (if I say so myself) witty asides and holy-fuck-why-did-she-use-so-many-hyphens compound adjectives, but at least I have slightly more of a clue about what’s going on than if I were in a zombie apocalypse.