Hi Folks,
If you’re receiving this, you signed up for a long-lost newsletter of mine via TinyLetter. Or perhaps you came to my website over the past few days. Regardless, thanks for signing up. And actually opening the thing.
First and foremost, I suppose I should tell you why you should open the next newsletter when it arrives. And the one following that. No guarantees after those two. I plan on using these for a couple things. First, I’ll use it to collect my writing and others I’ve enjoyed. It’s surprisingly difficult to stay on top of what work people are putting out into the world, even if you follow them reasonably closely, so I hope this will minimize some of the legwork for you.
Second, I’ll use this to share essays, thoughts, photos, etc. you won’t find on my other platforms. I’ve gradually retreated from Twitter and other forms of social media anyway, but they don’t handle those written things particularly well. Instead, those longer, in-depth memos will be found here. I have some travel and diverse stories coming up in the next six to twelve months, so I promise most won’t be dispatches from wintery New York City. If I find I’m spending significant time on those, or there’s interest for more, in-depth essays, I’ll likely start opening up the pay subscription system this platform makes space for. But I don’t plan on implementing that in the next few months, at least.
That travel brings me to an announcement, and the thing driving this newsletter. Earlier this year, while conducting research for a novel, I stumbled on an event I knew took place, in theory, but had few details of what it looked like. The event was the 1919 Tour de France, the second longest Tour in history and one of its most grueling iterations. Nearly everything that defined that race came about from its close proximity to the “War to End All Wars,” which ended just months before the race began. I immediately knew there was a story there so I began research with the aim of putting together a book proposal. After months developing and refining it with my agent, the proposal was bought by Little A earlier this month. In other words, Sprinting Through No Man’s Land is in the process of being made. You’re going to have to wait a couple years before you can get a physical copy in your hands, but I do plan on sharing some of the research finds and the like with you all here as an incentive and thank you.
More soon.
- Adin
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I don’t care much for newsletters. On occasion, they’re useful. More often, they’re not. Sometimes I use them to follow the work of others who are otherwise off my radar (even prolific Twitterers manage to publish things that slip past my eyes and ears). Other times, if I’m lucky, the person will include things on the newsletter I wouldn’t have otherwise seen. Tiny dispatches from the road, threads of thought that didn’t make it onto the page. The latter is what I hope to do here. In addition to my freelance writing which has wound down temporarily in recent months on account of grad school, I have a book in the works (more on that soon). 